((Well, well... this has decided it wants to turn itself into a full-blown story. Do y'all think I should take this to its own thread, or keep posting it here?))
Celeste stifled a yawn and propped her chin on her hand as she listened to the professor's monotone. This was a sucker class, she thought. Indeed, it was a trap worthy of Nemesis himself. Anyone would think that a class on "Heroic Literature" would be interesting and exciting, wouldn't they? Here she sat, though, trying desperately to stay awake as Professor McDougal droned on through his lectures. Truly, "Prof Mcdull" had earned his nickname, and she wished she'd heard about it BEFORE she signed up for his class.
The fact that she'd been up almost 'til dawn breaking up a gang war between the Freakshow and the Warriors didn't help. That the Warriors were better at reciting ancient heroic stories than her professor, though, made it almost painful. She found herself wondering if she could have gotten a better lesson by visiting some of the previous night's arrests in the Zig than by sitting in this class. She was sure at least two or three of them could tell her everything she needed to know about Jason, and they'd probably have been much more engaged by the topic.
She pushed down such uncharitable thoughts and tried to focus on what the professor was in fact trying to teach her. It wasn't *his* fault she hadn't gotten any sleep, after all. Besides, she was pretty sure a couple of her classmates had been at the same throwdown the night before, and they might be asking her for her notes later. Even more importantly, it would look bad if she fell asleep in class.
Even so, it seemed as though it might be a losing battle. Her eyelids got heavier and heavier, and the thought of putting her head down on the desk for a minute grew more tempting with each word the professor spoke. She'd read the story before, after all... she knew what it was about, didn't she?
Her rationalization was abruptly cut off by a shrill whistle from her pocket. she sat bolt upright, startled by the sound, and it was only when she saw everyone--including the professor--staring at her that she realized it was coming from her cell phone.
She winced at that. She was certain she'd set it for silent mode, and that meant the call couldn't be anything good. Like many of the ruggedized models built specifically for heroes, her phone had an override for emergency calls.
Fishing the phone out of her pocket, she checked the number. It wasn't one she recognized offhand, which was in some ways good. It wasn't her parents, and it wasn't one of her teammates from from TI... that eliminated most of the worst possibilities. On the other hand, it also wasn't one of her regular contacts, which worried her. She flipped the phone open, still acutely aware of the eyes of the entire class on her as she did so. "Hello?"
"Miss Alexander?" The voice on the other end of the line was shaky, as though he was nervous. He might be in trouble, she thought... but there was no way some random citizen could get her phone number. "I'm... I'm afraid I have some bad news."
She really didn't like the sound of that. Images of potential disasters swirled through her mind. *Was* it her parents, or one of her friends, in some kind of trouble? It had to be something personal; who else would have her phone number? She shook herself, throwing off the panic before it could take hold. "Ah... I'm in class. Give me a minute." she looked up then, holding her hand over the phone's pickup. "I'm sorry," she said to the room in general. "I've got an emergency, I've got to go."
The professor nodded understandingly to her, and she felt a little relief over that. He must have been able to see how disturbed she was by the call. As she stood up and slipped her way past other students to the end of the row, she heard a couple of whispered encouragements. "Good luck," one said. "Be careful out there," was another. She'd long suspected there were other heroes in her class, given the subject matter... from the tone of those quiet words, she became certain of it.
Once she had made her way out the back doors of the lecture hall, she took her hand off the phone. "All right, what's going on?"
"Ah, yes..." the voice hesitated again. "This is Dr. Harold, from Rhode Island Children's Hospital."
She froze in mid-step. That was the hospital she'd visited so many times as a child... the one she'd believed for so long that she would die in, before the miracle that had given her life back. It was the same hospital she'd been visiting of late,
donating cell samples in hopes that her transformation might yield data that could help other terribly ill children as well.
Why would they be calling her? What could it be, that would merit such urgency? Had they found something wrong with her, again?
The voice continued. "Miss Alexander, about the cell samples you donated..."
"Yes, what is it?" she pressed, his hesitation only driving her worries.
"Well, Miss... I'm afraid... they've been stolen."
(Keep it running here. It's pretty good so far.)
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((Thanks. And thanks for taking the time to comment, as well. Should have more in the next couple of days. Have also started building a virtueverse page for her, but it's not finished yet.))
Skylancer stuffed her civilian clothes in the locker she kept on campus, then tucked the cellphone into its designated pouch on her right arm. Two soft beeps sounded in her ear as it engaged her costume's comm rig, and a holographic display sprang to life in front of her eyes. Already the system was connecting to air traffic control to keep them apprised of her location and vector; it was doubly important for this trip, since she'd be leaving the city... and in a hurry.
She stepped out of the locker room, letting the heavy door close behind her. Once she was past that obstacle, she floated quickly down the hall, moving with an effortless ease that had come only with long practice. Even in closed quarters, she could fly more quickly than she could run, and with greater control. It was an ability that seemed to unnerve some of her non-superpowered classmates, so she saved it for when she was in costume or in a hurry. This time, she was both, and not terribly concerned over whether anyone else was disturbed by the sight. She followed the corridor into the main entry hall, and from there she moved to the building's back doors.
She touched down lightly in order to gain leverage to open the door, and stepped outside. Then, abruptly, she blazed into the sky like a Fourth of July rocket, a red-and-blue blur leaving a trail of white light as she ascended into the heavens. She'd catch some flak for that later, she thought... she'd blown past the 60-mph in-city legal limit well before she was above War Wall altitude. Once she was clear of restriction, she really poured it on, watching the airspeed indicator surge into the triple digits as the familar skyline fell away beneath her. Navicom fed her coordinates, and she turned northwest, headed inland.
She topped out at just over 400 mph at the top of her arcing ascent, then angled downward toward the destination marker on her display. She'd be there in three minutes.
It wouldn't give her much time to think, but that was really the idea. Already her mind was reeling with the possibilities. The theft had not been a random act, that much she was sure of... whoever had stolen the cell samples knew exactly what they were doing. How they had known, she would have to find out, but she'd need the details first, and she was not about to ask for that kind of information over the phone. More importantly, who had stolen them, and what did they plan to use them for? She could think of several reasons, and none of them were good.
she declerated rapidly as she the hospital came into view, seeing the two police cars near one of the main entrance. She pulled up short, settling lightly to the ground, then paused a moment to take a couple of deep breaths and settle herself. She had to keep her fear and her anger in check, she told herself; if she came off as overly emotional, the police might hesitate to give her the information she needed. The fact that she was personally involved in this case would be a detriment in their eyes, but it was exactly the reason she had to see it through. Finally, drawing herself up, she walked through the automatic doors and into the reception area.
"Ah... hello, Celeste," the receptionist greeted her nervously. She seemed almost fearful, Skylancer thought; had the theft spooked her that badly, or was she afraid of some kind of retribution? She shook her head, hoping it was the former; it was all well and good if the badguys were afraid of her, but the last thing she wanted was to terrify people who *knew* her. "We're very sorry about--"
"I know," Skylancer interrupted in the gentlest tone she could manage. "Dr. Harold said he'd be waiting for me?"
"Oh, yes," the receptionist nodded, suddenly remembering her responsibilities. "He's in the lab, where the theft occurred. The police are there as well. From the elevators, it'll be the fourth door on the left."
"Thanks."
It took a couple of minutes, mostly spent waiting for the elevator, to get to the lab. Dr. Harold greeted her when she came in.
"Hello, Cel--er, Skylancer," the tall, thin, doctor addressed her, realizing that her appearance in costume made it a professional visit. "The police are still going over the scene, but there's very little evidence to find, I'm afraid." He shook his head and sighed. "It had to be an inside job. None of the locks were forced, and only an employee here would know the work that we were doing."
"What about the security cameras?" She remembered seeing cameras in the labs during her previous visits to the hospital, as well as in the hallways and lobby.
"Nothing. Someone shut down the entire system. Our security chief is obviously a suspect, but between you and me I don't think he did it. First of all, he's always seemed like an honest man--though I'd say that about almost anyone on our staff, which clearly calls my judgement into question--but I also don't think he's stupid enough to do something that would so blatantly implicate him. Of course, the police aren't willing to rule anyone out at this point, and I certainly don't intend to interfere in the investigation."
"Fingerprints?" Skylancer was starting to form her own suspicions, though she wondered if her experiences as a hero were coloring her viewpoint.
He sighed. "They're still looking, so I can't get in there, but I don't think they've found any. Whoever did this was careful."
She nodded. Whoever did this, she thought, was a professional. A common thief wouldn't know what to do with such a prize. It wasn't something you could pawn, or sell on eBay. You needed a buyer for something like this before you stole it. Better, for the thief, you needed someone to hire you to steal it in the first place. "No witnesses, I assume?"
"None." He grimaced. "We don't just leave these labs unattended all day, you know. There are people in and out of here all the time."
"I know." She frowned, thinking for a moment, then looked toward the open door at the other end of the room. "I'm going to go talk to the investigators. I think this is going to be a job for a hero." Or two or three, she thought. She made a mental note to check the operational roster for Trouble Incorporated. Wherever this path lead, she was sure of one thing: When she found what was waiting at the end, she'd need backup.
((Episode 14))
"When last we left our heroes--" a nasally annoucer said.
The screen flashed to a picture of Hephaestus 1 and Mobius Knight in their latest publicity photo.
"They were seen," said the unknown announcer, "at a car dealership turned den of robotic ill-repute, run by the nefarious Pimp Nemesis of That 70's Dimension!"
The screen flashed to a picture of Pimp Nemesis and his bevy of robotic and cybernetic ladies. Pimp Nemesis' diamond-studded tooth could be seen shining in their publicity photo.
"How will our heroes get out of this mess?"
The screen flashed to a scene of a very-nervous looking Mobius Knight as he was surrounded by robot strippers who apparently weren't programmed with the concept of "personal space." Hephaestus 1 is nowhere to be seen.
"And what of Hephaestus 1's dear mother? How will she deal with the fact that her son has been exposed to robot strippers?"
The screen flashed to a picture of Heph being dragged along by one antenna by his mother, who was hitting him with a shillelagh.
"All this and more tonight on-"
Animated versions of Heph and Moby appeared to be running towards the screen to a familiar-sounding tune.
"SERV'D!" a chorus sang out as the cartoon forms of Heph and Moby leapt over office workers and lawyers.
"SERV'D!" the chorus sang as cartoon Heph and Moby hand over summons with the screen being replaced with a wildly-lettered "SUBPOENA!" This was followed up by Heph and Moby handing a summons to a Freakshow Tank which switched to a wildly-lettered "DELIVERY!" Cartoon Heph and Moby then were seen handing a sheaf of papers to Lord Recluse "PROCESS SERVICE!"
All of that was followed by a trio of cartoon villains looking very annoyed and confused.
The rest of the opening graphics were pretty much still versions of Cartoon Heph and Moby looking awesome, with the chorus just singing "Serv'd!" every so often at appropriate points.
The screen faded back in to the car dealer's building that was secretly a front for Pimp Nemesis' robot strip club. Heph, Moby and Mrs. O'Flannagan faced down the odd Nemesis with the outrageous hat and the Android Sisters.
"Look, Nemesis," Heph began, but stopped when Pimp Nemesis held up his hand.
"Don't call me Nemesis, call me by my street name," Pimp Nemesis said. "4C6F7264204E656D6573697300, my metal brother."
"But that's just Lord Nemesis in Hexadecimal format!" Heph said.
"Still, 4C6F7264204E656D6573697300 is what my ladies call me, isn't it?" Pimp Nemesis said as the Android Sisters nodded.
Moby shook his head as if to drive away the weirdness. "That guy who just ran into your... robot gentleman's club... has been cheating people out of their scrap metal."
Pimp Nemesis looked worried as the Android Sisters locked on to him.
"You said that was freshly-forged brass, you worm!" BOOG-E said.
"Yeah, and aluminum sheeting isn't supposed to be wrinkly!" WOOG-E added.
"But baby, that's how I got it at Abercrombie!" Pimp Nemesis said. "You said you wanted something from there, right?"
"I called the store and they don't sell aluminum sheeting!" the robot stripper said.
"You're lying to us," the sisters said as their eyes glowed red. "We don't like liars."
Pimp Nemesis raised an embroidered shop towel to wipe the oil sweating from his face. "Ladies, have I ever lied to you?"
"YES," both said as they fired their lasers at the brasswork giant.
Pimp Nemesis ran around screaming and swearing as his favorite outrageous hat caught fire from the laser attacks.
Heph looked at Moby. "Well, that's one way of distracting them while we go find that guy."
"I'm not going in there, Heph. I don't even like knowing that robot strip clubs exist. It tears at my soul from the weirdness." Mobius Knight stood there, hand on his sword.
"Fine, I'll go in there, then. Hand me the paperwork," Heph said.
"OHHH NO YE DON'T, MICHAEL BRIAN O'FLANNAGAN!" Mrs. O'Flannagan said with rising indignity in her voice. "Lord only knows what mischief you'll get into in there without yer mother along!"
"Uhm, no," Heph said. "I can't go into a robot strip club with my mother. That's just wrong. You have to stay out here-- WAITWAITWAIT!" Heph shouted as his mother grabbed one of his comm system antennae and dragged him in there.
"I came to see my darling son do his job, an' that's what I'll see!" Mrs. O'Flannagan said as she dragged her son towards the den of mechanical iniquity.
"But Mom," Heph whined, "I don't want people to see me in there with you! It'll be embarrassing!"
"They're only robots," Mrs. O'Flannagan said.
"They're sentient AIs, Mom, so they're like regular human women in a way. They're-" Heph's attention was caught by something else. "Uh, WOOG-E? Your I/O ports are showing."
"Gah! Embarrassment subroutine activated!" the robot dancer said as she tried to cover herself more with the Turtle Wax.
"I meant on your neck," Heph said.
"Double embarrassment! This isn't good!" WOOG-E said as she ran back in the club.
Mrs. O'Flannagan began walking towards the club, dragging her son by one of his ear-mounted antennae.
"I don't wanna go in there!" Heph shouted. He received a smack on the head with Mrs. O'Flannagan's shillelagh.
After twenty minutes, an embarrassed-looking Mrs. O'Flannagan and a somber-looking Heph walked out of the club.
"There will be therapy bills because of this, Mom. Mark my words," Heph said. "I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to rationalize being dragged into a strip club by my mother."
"It's because it's your job and I won the chance to ride along with you! Well, I hope I never see such horrible sights again!" the older woman said.
"I told you, Mom," Heph said. "This job goes from weird to really weird in an instant." They walked back to Moby who was currently being fussed over by the Android Sisters and a few of the other robot dancers.
"I'm happily engaged, thank you very much!" Moby said as he tried to extricate himself from the throng of robot women.
"We have many advantages to human women," WOOG-E said.
Moby turned away from the robot dancer. "No you don't."
"But we're self-lubricating!" WOOG-E said.
Moby's eyebrow raised. He seemed to be twitching just a bit as well. "I did NOT need to know that!"
"No, you sicko, I meant that our various points of articulation are self-lubricating so we don't get the robot version of arthritis."
Moby sighed. "You're robots who are throwing themselves at me. I have told you to stop it. I'm getting really really- oh, never mind." With that, the masked swordsman drew his katana. "ROBOT SMACKDOWN TIME!"
The robots scattered. "I have had it with all these [CENSORED] ROBOTS on this [CENSORED] PLANE OF EXISTENCE!" Moby shouted as he swung wildly.
Heph ran to the melee and grabbed Moby's arm in mid-swing. "NO! BAD SIDEKICK!" Heph shouted at his teammate.
The fury died down a little. "Sidekick?" Moby asked. "I'm your partner!"
"You're acting like a sidekick, so I'm going to treat you like a sidekick," Heph said. "Now drop the sword and apologize to these women."
"They're robots, Heph."
"They have feelings, Moby. If you puncture them, do they not leak? If you say '01100110011000010111001001110100' do they not engage humor subroutines?" Heph asked. "Regardless, you still need to apologize."
"Oh, all right," Moby said.
As the crew was driving back to the court building, Mrs. O'Flannagan started in on her son again.
"'Tis a horrible job you took me on, son," she said grimly. "Your sainted grandmother would die again if she'd seen what we saw today!"
Heph parked the SUV and turned it off. He got out, opened up the passenger door and pulled his mother from the vehicle. With a little grace the big blue cyborg set the older woman down gently upon her feet.
"Mom. I didn't ask you to come along on this call. You won the contest and picked today out of all the other days you could have gone."
"That's true, boyo."
"And what's with the lousy Irish accent? You're from Downers Grove, for crying out loud! You're from the far west SUBURBS of Chicago! No one talks like that in Downers Grove! Not even Grandma did!"
"Well, I thought it might add something you don't hear every day to your show," his mother said, her accent disappearing.
"There's a lot of things you don't hear every day on my show, Mom," Heph said. "When I tell you not to follow me, it's for a good reason. It could be dangerous or unexplainable. I spent almost 25 years as a cop, Mom, I have good reasons for not wanting you to get in the line of fire, even if it's just someone throwing pies."
"Well, you shouldn't be mad at me, Mickey, I was only doing what I thought was right," Mrs. O'Flannagan said.
"Yeah, and now you can't unsee what you have seen. Just listen to me the next time, okay?"
"There's a next time?" Mrs. O'Flannagan asked.
"Yeah, if you buy another ticket and win," Heph said.
"Well, I do have the luck of the Space Irish," Mrs. O'Flannagan.
"Not the Space Irish story again, Mom," Heph said. "Grandma told me that there's no such person as Xandar O'Herlihy, High Roverlord of the Space Irish Empire."
"Oh, really now?" Mrs. O'Flannagan said incredulously. "Then who's that hovering over your shoulder?"
"That's Clem, the cameraman. I really do have eyes in the back of my head, Mom. They were an option."
Mrs. O'Flannagan scowled. "Rats. I almost had you, too."
"Let's go home, Mom. I'm sure you're dying to tell Shava about the family," Heph said as he opened up the door to th SUV.
"Fine," Mrs. O'Flannagan said, "but we're going to dinner at a proper restaurant tonight. I don't care if you get free meals at City of Gyros, I want something good."
"Did I tell you about the time when Mobius Knight and I fought the Gyrobber, the mischievous rival to Yanni Baklavapoulos, the City of Gyros Mascot?"
"Yes, a dozen times," his mother said as the scene faded to credits.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
"Come on, come on, open already," Skylancer muttered at the door. She'd put in her keycode twice, and she was sure she'd gotten it right. "System must be acting up again. Have to talk to Angela about that." She tried to enter the code again, and got about halfway through it before the door opened on its own. She took a step back, surprised, then shrugged and walked in.
Trouble Incorporated's base--if you could call it that--took up the first three floors of a converted apartment building in Kings' Row. The building had been in sorry shape when they had first acquired it, but with a lot of work they had managed to make it mostly livable. In the year that had passed since then, the base had seen little upgrades here and there; a couple of teleport pads, a basic medical lab, new computers, and a stronger generator had turned it into something that would almost pass for a legitimate supergroup base... but even then, Skylancer thought, the place more resembled a home for wayward metahumans.
She glanced at the sign in the entry hall. "(1) days without a massive collateral damage incident. Keep up the good work!" it read. The 1 was a little metal card hanging on a pin stuck in the sign. She couldn't recall ever seeing that number change. She had always assumed that was Ember's idea of a joke, but she'd never been entirely certain of that, either. The fact was, Trouble Incorporated had been formed as a refuge for those would-be heroes whose past troubles were always on their heels. Whether it was Ember herself, who'd seen her life go up in flames of her own making, or the rehabilitated archvillain Shadow Ruby, or simply those like Nanodrive who had too many enemies to ever feel comfortable with their own safety, the team had earned its name in spades. She still wasn't entirely certain how she'd fallen in with this motley crew, but they were her hero family now, the ones she could turn to in time of need, and as much as some of them might worry her she had come to love them.
Trudging through the entry hall, she crossed into the large room that served mostly as a communal living room for the team. About half of them lived in the upper floors of the apartment building, but they tended to hang out here in the base unless they truly wanted to be alone. After all, this was where the 50-inch TV was. As she entered the room, she saw Nanodrive hunched over the security console. The covers were off and she seemed engrossed in working on it. "Oh, hi, Angela. I was gonna tell you it was busted, but I guess you're already working on it."
Nanodrive looked up with a smirk, and responded with her typical East Texas drawl. "Well, I did let you in, didn't I?"
That explained the phantom door, Celeste thought to herself, slumping unceremoniously onto the couch. She picked up the remote, flipping through channels looking for something to take her mind off the day's problems. The fact was, she needed to talk to Ember. As she'd expected after talking to Dr. Harold, there had not been much to see at the crime scene. The lab hadn't been broken into at all. Someone had simply walked in and taken the samples from the secure room with no apparent effort at all. Either someone with legitimate access had taken them--and that was a short list--or someone unauthorized had managed to acquire the access codes. No fingerprints, no unusual fabric fibers, no strange dirt tracked in from outside... essentially, no evidence at all. That the video camera system had been shut down, and that someone had gotten in and out without being seen at all, implied some very unpleasant possibilities.
She ticked off ideas in her head. Invisibility, teleportation, disguise, deception... it was stalker work, she thought. Anyone could have been behind it; at least, anyone with the resources to bring in a master thief for the job. THAT list was not short at all.
Lost in thought, she didn't notice the footsteps until they were right behind her. "Hello, Lancer," a hard-edged alto voice spoke, and she turned to meet her supergroup leader's angry gaze.
"Uh, hi, Ember," she answered weakly.
Ember Soulfire leaned on the back of the couch with both hands, uncomfortably close, and her flame-red eyes seemed to bore into Celeste's. "I got a phone call from the city today. Care to guess what it was about?"
Celeste sighed and looked down. The city had called *her*? About a speeding violation? "Ah, I got a little carried away in Steel Canyon today."
Ember stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "Yeah, you did." She paused. "Seems like a little thing, doesn't it? Maybe, for most people, it would be. For us, not so much." She sighed, walking in a small circle as if trying to rein herself in... it was something Ember did when she didn't want to explode at someone. "Look, Lancer. You guys have no idea how hard a time they give me over some of the things you people do. Whether it's the collateral damage incidents, the harrassment complaints from Crey," Ember gestured across the room at Nanodrive, who smirked, "the letters from concerned citizens about the records of some of our members, you name it... it's a wonder they haven't pulled our charter, or my hero license, or both." She pivoted on her heel, whirling suddenly back on Celeste. "But YOU! You're the one I THOUGHT I could trust not to get me in trouble."
"Come on, Ember, it can't be that bad," Nanodrive suggested, trying to calm her down, but Ember waved her off with one arm.
"In some ways, it's worse," Ember insisted. "Most of the problems we have are accidents, or things in the past. And most of them happen while we're in the process of saving people, which gets us cut some slack. I can deal with those things. What I *can't* have is someone on my team FLAGRANTLY DISREGARDING THE LAW for no good reason!"
Celeste sighed and nodded. As much as it seemed like an overreaction, she understood where Ember was coming from. It was the law, after all, that separated the heroes from the villains... the law she had sworn to uphold when she had gotten
her hero license to begin with.
"If you'd had a qualifying emergency, it would've been fine. But traffic control picked you up at nearly 100mph in the restricted zone on your way out of town. No emergency report, no request for clearance, no nothing." She sighed, calming herself again. "Where were you going that you were in such a hurry, Lancer? Tell me you had a good reason. I know you're usually in class at that time of day."
"I had a reason," Celeste answered carefully. It was a *selfish* reason, she thought, not a good one. "I got an emergency call."
"So why didn't you report it?" Ember threw her hands up in the air. "You could've saved us all this trouble."
Celeste shook her head. "No, it was a *personal* emergency."
"Oh." Ember's anger faded as she took on a concerned look. "Something didn't happen to your parents, did it?"
"No." She sighed. "The cell samples I donated for research... I told you about that, right?" Ember nodded. "Someone stole them."
A long moment of silence fell on the room. Finally, Ember sighed heavily. "That's... not good, Lancer. Any idea who was behind it?"
Celeste shook her head. "No. I can think of lots of reasons someone might. Maybe to develop a weapon against me. Maybe to try to copy me." She shuddered. "Considering what I went through that gave me these powers, that's a scary thought."
Nanodrive looked up. "Gotta be Crey."
Ember scowled. "See? That's what I'm talking about, Angela. That's your answer to everything."
"No, I mean it," Angela insisted. "The Revenant Hero Project. You know about it. Supposed to have been shut down, but it's never that easy with Crey and you know it. This is *exactly* the sort of thing they'd do."
Celeste thought about that for a moment. "She's got a point."
"She does," Ember agreed reluctantly. "It's a good place to start looking, at least."
"Still, if it's supposedly been shut down, how are we going to know where to look? Crey's not going to put up signs saying, 'Secret Illegal Project Lab here'." Celeste countered.
Ember thought about that for a moment. "Angela, call Eleanor."
"You sure, boss?" Angela looked doubtful.
"If anyone can find out where someone's gone to ground, she can. She's on the team for a reason."
((Season 2, Episode 15!))
*The "Serv'd!" Theme plays. Now available as both a floor wax AND a dessert topping!*
Hephaestus 1, Mobius Knight and their faithful recording crew sat with Fang, Larry McGonigle, the Cobalt Claymore and Nick "Pipewrench" SanFilippo at the High Park KC Hall's bar. Nick stood behind the bar as usual, since he became the official bartender about a year ago. Heph and the others sat around a large table with some kind of display hidden under a sheet.
"The issue at hand is that fans have been asking for something other than just the ride-along program," Heph began, "and I think I may have the solution. Behold!" he shouted as he pulled the sheet off of the display.
The display was a decently-designed model of one of Atlas Park's lesser-used green spaces which was fenced off and filled with a variety of tents, a bandshell-type stage and what looked to be a small pile of cars.
The Cobalt Claymore looked at the model. "Either someone just put together a Warhammer 40K terrain set for you, Heph, or you're planning a flea market and junkyard."
Moby shook his head. "No, he's going to have a beer festival. The pile of cars is clearly for the DUI parking."
Heph sighed. "Fine. Be that way. You won't get a cut of the profits when this works out."
Moby shrugged. "That's fine if it means you not telling me about your stupid ideas."
"It's not a stupid idea if it makes money and gets us good press," Heph grumbled. "Besides, I've gotten hundreds of fan letters, from hundreds of different people no less, who have wanted a fuller experience than that provided by our ride-along program."
Fang's ears perked up. "Fuller experience? That sounds like a bad idea. I mean, the ride-along is already pretty messed-up."
Larry nodded. "Yes it is. It's also a liability nightmare if you let the ride-along crowd help you with your job."
"I took that into consideration already which is why I came up with this question. How do we give the fans what they want without exposing them to dangerous villains?"
"By watching your show," the Cobalt Claymore said. "That's pretty obvious."
"There's no 360-degree interactivity, though, so I thought that if we can't take them to the weirdness, let's bring a little weirdness to them. Thus, my idea: The Hephaestus 1 Experience Fan Campstravaganza!" Heph said, gesturing to his model.
The group just looked at their big blue cyborg friend like he was a big blue moron.
Heph continued. "Each of the tents will help fans live vicariously through our adventures through virtual reality and uh, real reality simulations of highlights from the show! There's also going to be games and prizes and stuff, too."
"Highlights from the show? Like what? Being attacked by a giant doughnut? Enforcing leash laws on demons? Helping sentient androids kick drug habits? Touring the inside of a middle-aged man's colon?" Moby asked.
"So, the Larry McGonigle Memorial Tunnel of Terror is a bad idea, then?" Heph said as Larry paled.
"I'm not dead!" the court liaison said.
"No, but your dignity is after that episode," Heph said.
Larry sat and fumed for a bit over that.
"Look, guys, I like our fans. They like the show. Let's give them what they want!"
"So, what's the pile of cars, then?" Moby asked.
"Oh, that's one of the games. Car Catcher. I throw cars at them like what happened to me on my first day as a solo superhero. Northdier and Southsider threw full-sized cars at me in an attempt to get away from me. I had to catch them and set them on the ground safely. Two drunken baseball fans with superstrength can be a handful."
"You throw the cars," Fang said, "and they catch them. You're going to kill people with that!"
"Nah," Heph said. "They'll be wearing powered armor that will allow them to catch the cars while on a full sprint. The only problem, though, is getting the cars loaded on the catapult. Oh, and the whole deactivation of the suit if they try to leave the fenced-in area thing, too. That could also be bad."
The Cobalt Claymore shook his head. "Okay, that could be pretty cool, Heph, but there are a lot of problems with the whole thing. The insurance alone would bankrupt you. You'd be launching cars from a catapult. How is that not a deal breaker?"
"Well, I was also going to have the winner of of the Society of American Catgirls 'Paragon Idol' contest hold a concert, too."
"Lousy singing and smashed cars don't cancel each other out insurance-wise," Moby said. "This is maybe the dumbest idea I've heard from you since I signed on to the team."
"Well, don't sugarcoat it too much there, Moby," Heph said.
"Fine. It's a stupid [CENSORED] idea that makes me wish I'd never joined up with you guys, will cause me to go bald, I'll lose my fiancee, and thousands of people who see it on tv will die when anvils drop on their heads from interdimensional rifts caused by the stupidity of the idea. That's how [CENSORED] stupid it is."
"No, no," Heph said. "Tell me how you really feel, Moby. I appreciate your feedback. Don't hold back."
"You make me hate going to work in the morning."
"Yeah, that noon production meeting is a killer." the Cobalt Claymore said.
"You know what I mean!" the monochromatic swordsman snapped at his blue-clad counterpart. "And why are you here anyway? You're not on the team."
"Heph wanted an unbiased opinion from a biased friend," the Cobalt Claymore said. "You know, someone who doesn't have any kind of financial or job interest in the series, but still wants it to succeed."
"You sound like a fan," Moby said.
"Yes, I'm a fan of the show, for what it's worth," the Cobalt Claymore said. "It's great to watch on a Friday night before going out on late-night patrol."
"Or before watching 'Happy Pony Rainbow Squad: The Midnight Directive,' you mean," Moby snapped.
"There's nothing wrong with that show!" the Cobalt Claymore said. "It's good entertainment!"
"I thought that was a kids' show," Fang said. "You know, bright and colorful ponies having adventures about sharing and other stuff."
"Maybe you need to watch the show, Fang," Heph said as he picked up the now-forgotten display. "The only thing they share there is a love of violence, heavy drug use and sexual situations not fit for younger audiences."
Fang was bewildered. "But... they're always smiling in the commercials! And prancing around in a meadow!"
"That's not prancing," the Cobalt Claymore said. "If you actually watch it, you'll see that they're circling each other in preparation for a graphically-intense and bloody knife fight."
"How graphic?" Fang asked.
"Uhm, it makes Watership Down look like Teletubbies?" the younger swordsman said.
Fang's lupine jaw dropped in horror.
"Yeah, one of the later characters, Sunshine Flenser Omicron, does a little dance after killing his enemies, then he cuts their hooves off for trophies."
"But how?" Fang squeaked. "They seem so wholesome... and they don't have hands or opposable thumbs!"
"I agree with the werewolf," Moby said. "That just doesn't seem possible."
"Because it's a cartoon?" Heph asked. "Anyway, you guys don't like the idea of the fantasy camp. So noted. You guys don't believe that it's an entertainer's duty to engage and entertain the public. Got it."
"No, we don't want lawsuits from lawyers who want to be the next Chris Jenkins over the related injuries, that's what it is, Heph," Moby said. "Also, no one in their right mind wants to be you. We're stopping the madness before it starts by doing this."
Larry's cellphone bleeped. "Hello?" the liaison said. "Oh, hello, Verlene. Another notice to appear, huh? All right. I'll assemble the team and we'll be right there. Oh, could you save some of those cookies you made? I skipped breakfast. Thanks, bye."
Larry looked at his teammates. "We've got a case. We're headed to the Yards."
"Yer in the Yards," Pipewrench said from behind the counter. "Did ya not notice the street signs?"
"I was trying to be ironic," Larry said.
Pipewrench snorted. "It was a lousy attempt."
The crew got their gear and headed back to the office.
Once they arrived at the office, the team started reading through the sheaf of papers on the dingy gray desk. Larry stopped in mid-paragraph with a look of surprise on his face. "Guys, we have a problem."
"Let me guess, the Clockwork Paladin is asking for ramp access to the bank in Kings Row?"
"No, I'm serious. This is bad. Back Yard Boom is being sued for sexual harassment by the Knives of Artemis, the Carnival of Shadows, and... female Nemesis Automatons, it says here."
Heph grabbed the paperwork. "Let me see that!" He began to read the papers. "The plaintiffs say that they were groped by the defendant during the course of their official duties. This is serious. We'd better get over there now before his mother or little sister find out."
The team ran for their waiting SUV and headed back to Kings Row.
Heph and Moby managed to catch Back Yard Boom as he was about to head into the aged brick building that held his apartment. Their feet echoed across the flat stone courtyard that connected his building with three others.
"Boom, you got some 'splaining to do," heph said as he handed his fellow cyborg the court papers.
"What the crap is this? A lawsuit? Fer what?" Back Yard Boom sputtered. "I know it ain't business related, 'cause I build quality stuff."
"You're being sued by three major criminal groups for sexual harrassment," Moby said.
"Dude! Keep that quiet," Boom said. "Everybody's gonna hear. Come inside."
After exchanging pleasantries and calming his easily-excitable mother down, Heph, Moby and Boom discussed the case. Back Yard Boom's mother set out coffee for the group and sat down in her late husband's recliner to listen as the trio of heroes talked about the lawsuit.
"Look, I never harrassed any'a them women, no matter how tight their clothes might be," Boom said. "I was raised better'n that!"
"Well, these pictures don't lie," Heph said. In each one, Boom seemed to be groping a woman from one of the aggrieved groups.
"That ain't gropin'! That's a kinetic energy transfer punch ta the chest!" Boom said incredulously. "Same thing with that one there, too! Look, I'll show ya, just without the power up." With that Boom fired off a punch at Moby's chest. "It's like that, with a modified eagle claw hand strike from kung fu."
Moby looked down at the young cyborg's hand. "That's my pectoral there, Boom. Please remove your hand."
"Well, then there's the aspect where I get their attention so they don't attack my teammates an' stay focused on me," Boom added.
"A hand on my pec is pretty attention-getting," Moby growled.
"Yeah, but this is what keeps 'em focused on me. Honk honk!" the blue-armed hero said as he squeezed the swordsman's pectoral muscle. Moby twitched.
"I want to kill you. You just groped me on national television. That's worthy of a smiting," Moby said as he went for his sword.
"It's a legitimate strategy in a fight!" Boom said. "Use yer enemy's weaknesses against him or her as the case may be."
"I don't care. You should have done that to Heph!" Moby shouted.
"Yer stayin' focused on me, right?" Boom said.
"Because I want to chop you into tiny bits, that's why I'm staying focused on you!" Moby shot back.
"An' that allows my teammates ta get behind ya and take ya out."
"Then take your hand off my- wait, where did your hand go?" Moby said, looking around.
"Right here," Boom said.
Moby looked up to find Back Yard Boom's hand less than an inch away from his face. The swordsman jumped back. "GAH! Don't DO that!"
"Well, according to the Rhode Island Superheroic Activity Statutes, distracting tactics like that fall under the Gauntlet Act of 2005. The only law you might have broken was the law of good taste."
"No matter what, though, I gotta show up in court, right?"
"Yeah," Heph said. "Get a good attorney."
"I got Chris Jenkins on retainer. He owes me fer a last-second escape from a Rikti plasma blast."
"No," Moby said. "A good attorney, not a ethically-challenged one."
"They're the best ones, right?" Boom said.
Heph shrugged. "I'm not touching that comment at all. Just show up with the papers at the courthouse on the date provided."
Moby blinked. "You're not going to say that he got SERV'D!, Heph?"
"No, but someone's going to be in for a lot of painful testimony. If he gets Athena Currie as plaintiff's laywer, there's gonna be trouble."
"Why's that?" Moby asked Heph.
"He can't demonstrate the technique on her without getting slapped." Heph said.
"I didn't think of that. Well, hope for the best, then." Moby said.
"Either that or... wait. Who do we know who's comfortable enough with Back Yard Boom not to freak out if he uses a tried-and-true distraction technique?"
"She'd have to be familiar with the ways of the tanker," Moby said, "And she'd have to be self-assured enough not to be creeped out."
"DOC DELILAH!" the two court agents exclaimed.
Back Yard Boom's face reddened. "Ah, geez, guys... it was only a couple dates we went on!"
The camera faded out and the credits rolled.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((interrupting my story for a special interlude...))
She stared down at the medal in her hand with a certain sense of disbelief. It seemed it had been only yesterday that she'd been just another SERAPH lab assistant, watching the heroes come and go with a certain sense of awe and no small amount of envy. Everything that had happened since seemed almost unreal, like a waking dream.
She reflected on the adventures that had passed since that fateful day when she had been so changed. She'd hardly known what she was doing at all when she started. Her first costume, with the open vest, had been a mistake; sure, it had *felt* nice over her fur, but she'd quickly learned better than to wear clothing that wouldn't stay in place during a backflip. The claws had at least been a better purchase. She didn't use those so much anymore, not since she'd gotten the Vanguard energy blades, but they'd served her well in many battles.
She remembered the first time those claws had cut flesh, the first time she'd drawn blood in battle. She remembered the mixed sense of revulsion and elation as her predatory instincts kicked in. She remembered her first encounter with a gun, and the terrible rush of fear and excitement as she found herself having to dodge bullets--and found herself able to do so. So many things had been so frightening then, and seemed so minor now. A Hellion punk with a handgun, a Vahzilok zombie, the crowd of Skulls on a street corner just within sight of her bedroom window... all these things had been grave threats once, and only the feral surge that came with using her powers had kept her from fleeing in terror from those early battles.
Now, she knew she was made of stronger stuff. She'd fought Council stormtroopers, and sinister corporate agents. She'd earned countless honors in battle against the Rikti invaders, and she'd put down the vile schemes of the mighty Nemesis. She'd faced off against the shadowy Malta group, and done battle with evil mystics deep beneath the Earth. She'd even fought Lord Recluse himself, and somehow won the day. And while she might not have ended any of those threats, she'd held them in check, and kept the city safe time and again.
She remembered looking at heroes, admiring them, wondering what it must be like to live as they did, free to soar the skies or leap from building to building. She remembered trying to comprehend the courage it took to face down the great evils that plagued Paragon City. She smiled, remembering her innocence, her naivete about what it really meant to be a hero.
She'd had some things right, even then. It took courage, and determination. More than that, it took faith... faith in the ideas of justice and freedom. It took sacrifice to protect those ideas from those who would trample them underfoot. It took love... love of life, and love for the city she stood and guarded.
And it took a city, a City of Heroes, that stood behind its defenders and refused to cower before evil's fury.
She was proud to serve that city, and proud of the honor it had bestowed on her.
She placed the medal in its small display, setting it beneath the picture of the smiling girl on her old SERAPH ID tag. For once, she thought, the words said it all.
Serina "Kitten America" Willmore
Hero of the City
6 December 2008
((Because Hephaestus 1 is a kid at heart, he loves doing live appearances at schools and making public service announcements for kids. Here's one of his earlier ones.))
Hephaestus 1 appeared on screen with three schoolchildren. "Hi, I'm Hephaestus 1. Kids, do you know what to do if you're ever approached by a stranger? Jack, Tanisha and Damian from Paragon Heights Elementary School all know what to do, right kids?"
"Yeah!" the children shouted.
Heph gave the kids a thumbs-up gesture. "Okay! Let's show everyone out there," he said while pointing to the camera, "what to do!"
The scene shifted to a playground, where Jack, Tanisha and Damian were playing on a jungle gym. Heph walked up to them in a bright orange t-shirt with "STRANGER" printed on it in big black letters.
"Hi, there, young man," Hephaestus 1 said to Jack. "I found a lost puppy. Can you help me find its owner?"
"I'll go tell my teacher!" Jack said as he ran off-screen.
Heph snapped his big metal fingers. "Drat! The old "Get a Teacher" ploy! A classic!" He walked over to Tanisha.
"Excuse me, little girl, you've won an all-expenses-paid trip to a candy factory! Just get in my car and we'll go!"
Tanisha looked up at the big blue cyborg. "I better ask my mom first!" she said as she left.
Heph shook his fist. "Bah! Parents! The bane of strangers everywhere!" This time he strode confidently over to Damian, who sat there, looking a little ill.
"You there!" Heph said, pointing dramatically at the little boy, "You look like a perfect candidate for my army of genetically-engineered cyborg children! Mua-ha-ha! I laugh that way because I am not just a stranger but also a supervillain!"
Damian twitched a little and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. "I sUmmON thE dEMoN-GrizZlY GURVOHL THE JUDGMENT!" he shouted before doubling over and vomiting a puddle of indigo-colored liquid hate onto the concrete.
"Uh-oh, we've got a sick kid, here, guys. Looks like he had a lot of, uh, is that grape soda?" Heph said as he tried to check on the boy. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning and a twenty-foot tall grizzly bear wreathed in flame and carrying a huge sword appeared from the puddle.
"I HUNGER FOR THE FLESH OF THE GUILTY!" Gurvohl the Judgment roared.
"By Sergeant Belker's sweaty stocking cap!" Heph said as he looked at rather-peeved demon bear.
"FLESH!" the demon-bear roared again.
Heph and the camera crew ran away as fast as they could.
"So remember, kids," Heph said as he ran, "if you're approached by a stranger, go find your teacher or your mom and dad or, uh, summon a demon bear if you're so inclined!"
Gurvohl roared again with the sound of a thousand damned souls being torn from their bodies. Lightning snaked down from the skies and struck a dozen Hellions simultaneously.
"And, uh, strangers," Heph said, "don't prey on children because they're likely to send guardian beasts after you!"
As Heph kept running, the "The More You Know" star appeared over his head on-screen.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
(Also, WOOT for Kitten America! Now you get the 10% discount at IHOP.)
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((Things have been hoppin' in Smith's life since the last "Young Love" post. He's made lots of friends and shared lots of adventures, many of them with a beautiful blonde goddess named Cassi Nova. Life seemed ridiculously wonderful for a short while, but then life has a way of suddenly becoming complicated. Ms. Nova fell in love with Smith, even though he is deeply in love with Jessie Eagle.
How or why Cassi Nova has found herself in her current predicament (as described in the following story), only her player knows, but it had a profound effect on my favorite amnesiac teen hero.
Note -- The Mr. Kinsolving referred to is the headmaster of Maggie's Rock, where Smith resides and attends classes.))
"What were you doing? What drove you to do this?"
What am I supposed to say? I hate this. I really hate this. I didn't consider this when I shot an air bubble into my blood stream. The worst I thought could happen would be that I'd die -- not that I'd have to convince a psychiatrist that I'm not suicidal.
"Have you had problems with your girlfriend?"
This doctor doesn't have powers. She's no superhero. Plus she's old. How can she relate to anything I might consider a problem? But still...
"No."
Really. Until a few days ago Jessie and I were so happy together that our friends found it disgusting. I mean, most guys find something to complain about about their girlfriends. Some find lots of things. But not me. She's perfect. Brave. Funny. Beautiful beyond my ability to describe. I'm so lucky that she loves me. She loves me so much that she would give me up to another. It sounds paradoxical, buy you'd have to understand the circumstance.
"I'm entirely happy with Jessie."
Not a lie.
I hate how this doctor just looks at me over her glasses and flips back a couple pages in her notebook. What was it I said fifteen minutes ago that she's relating this to now?
"And you play soccer."
Soccer? Yes, I play soccer, but what does that have to do with anything?
"Yes. I play soccer. My school doesn't have a team, but there's a soccer club in Atlas Park that..."
"And you're a good player?"
"I... I like to think so."
I so do not like to brag on myself, but I'm an excellent striker.
"It's a contact sport."
"Very much so."
"And do you enjoy that aspect of it?"
"Ye-- what?"
What the heck was that about? Whatever. She flips forward through her notebook. I'm ready to just get up and leave, but Mr. Kinsolving said I had to do this.
I could have avoided it if I had told him about Cassi, but I just couldn't. The Kinsolvings love Cassi like a daughter. How could I tell him that she's... What? Possessed by the devil? Which devil? She told me his name was "Ash", but really, which devil is he? Cassi's a daughter of the Amazons. Who is the Satan of Greco-Roman mythology? There's not a direct corelation. Whoever it is seems to have her in his/its thrall until Cassi's true love rescues her. A classic fairy-tale curse. And I don't mean that in jest.
"Tell me... Smith...?"
Every time she says "Smith" she looks back to the front of the notebook to look for my first name, then remembers I don't have one. It's the only part of this whole "counselling" thing that I find at all amusing.
"Tell me, Smith, about your best friend."
"My best friend?"
"Every young man your age has a male companion with which he bonds. Tell me about yours."
Cassi is my best friend. I love her dearly. I admire her strength. Her sense of duty. Her humility. I mean... she's a goddess! She could be so above us all. But as strong and indestructible as she is on the outside, she's struggling and fragile on the inside. She recently broke up with her girlfriend, and though they're still friends, I can tell Cassi's lonely. I wish I could help her. I wish I could find her somebody to love. But, the thing is, Cassi's in love with me.
"My best friend is a girl I know... Cassi Nova."
"Your best friend is a girl?"
She flips back to the soccer page again. Yes. Soccer is a contact sport. Yes that's part of the fun of it. No. I'm not...
"...happy, Mr. Smith?"
"What?"
I wasn't listening.
"Would you describe yourself as happy, Mr. Smith?"
"I... Yes. Yes. I would."
Which until very recently was as true as true could be.
"Then why did you do it? Why did you try to kill yourself?"
Because if you'd heard that devil's voice coming from Cassi's lips, and seen the look on her face which made it look not like her face at all, and if you had heard her when she said she couldn't fight him/it...
"I... I was under stress..."
"Stress."
Gosh. How do I explain this? Yes, I was under stress! Cassi said she is under this... this thing's control until her One True Love -- which in this instance is me -- devotes himself -- myself -- to her entirely, forsaking all others.
Jessie and I talked it out. She told me that if it saved Cassi, she would understand (which only made me love her more). And I tried. I found Cassi and told her that I loved her.
It wasn't a lie. I do love her. I love her very much. She is and will remain my best friend. I am devoted to her in that respect.
But whatever entity that has mastered her knew how I really felt. When pressed, I could not deny my feelings for Jessie.
I could not.
"You got stressed out and used a hypodermic needle to shoot an air bubble into your vein."
Yes. I did.
"Yes. I did."
"What kind of stress were you under? You're not telling me anything about the situation. What were you doing when this... this urge came over you?"
What was I doing? I was ripping out my hair and screaming! Cassi -- or the entity that seemed at that moment to fully possess her -- told me I had failed her. He/it humiliated me. Made me feel helpless. Worse, made me doubt that Cassi could overcome him. I had to do something desperate that would force Cassi to fight -- to exert control if even for a moment. So I took a spare needle from my belt pouch and... well... you know what I did.
It wasn't like it was a huge risk. I knew Cassi could become dominant if only long enough to get me to Jessie. And I knew that Jessie would heal me, though it would take a huge toll on her. But it would be worth it if it showed Cassi she could fight against this thing!
"I can't tell you exactly what was going on and who was involved. I... I just can't. You understand?"
"Of course."
"But I can tell you that I felt utterly defeated. Humiliated. Desperate."
"And this involved a female?"
I nod before I catch myself. And then I don't say anything. Which makes my nod look that much worse!
Oh, do not do that! Don't you dare turn back to the soccer page!
"Have you ever had... feelings... for other boys?"
Argh!
*The "Serv'd!" opening theme plays. The opening montage takes us through some of the cooler moments of the past two seasons.*
Larry McGonigle's office was covered in streamers, confetti, and all kinds of decorations. A banner stating "Congratulations, Larry!" hung over it all. A large cake carrier sat on the desk. Clem and Earl looked at each other as they'd been sitting here waiting to film Larry's arrival for the past twenty minutes.
"I wish they'd hurry up," Earl said. "I have to go."
"Go where?" Clem asked.
"No, I have to go," Earl said, his leg bouncing up and down.
"Are you nervous?" Clem asked. "You look nervous."
"I. Gotta. GO," Earl said through clenched teeth.
"Don't worry, you've got plenty of time," Clem said. "Just relax and think of a calm blue ocean, the waves coming in... and going back out... the rushing noise of the gentle tides. Or imagine a tropical waterfall where the water just trickles down in a happy way. Like a Bob Ross painting. Just trickle, trickle, trickle."
"You're not helping, Clem. I'm going to need to sprint to get to the bathroom in time now."
"Oh, going to the bathroom! Well, uh, don't think about the trickling of the waterfall or the rushing noise of the tides. Definitely try not to think about flowing water," Clem said helpfully.
The door rattled as Larry opened up the door to his office, with Hephaestus 1, Mobius Knight and Fang in tow.
"SURPRISE!" the television show's crew shouted as Larry hit the lights. Larry jumped back, startled.
Heph clapped his judicial liaison on the shoulder. "Happy Retirement, Lar!"
"Oh- Oh- Wow. Wow, guys," Larry stuttered, unable to find his words.
Moby looked around. "We even got your favorite cake from Atlas Avenue Bakeries," he said as he went over to reveal the german chocolate cake under the carrier lid.
"You went to the place where I held my first job as a kid?" Larry asked. "You guys really are thorough in your research."
"Heph was just going to get doughnuts and call it good," Fang said. "I told him no."
Heph shrugged. "Hey, you can put a 'Happy Retirement' decoration on it just as easily as a regular cake."
"Spoken like a true cheapskate cop!" Larry said with a laugh. "You guys have made my last couple of years here hell. But it's been the most fun hell anyone could ask for."
"Well, dealing with the courts is going to be Moby's job now. He's taking over your liaison gig," Heph said.
Mobius Knight nodded. "Two hundred grand a year means Moby can put up with stupid lawyers and judges."
"Without stabbing anyone?" Larry asked.
Moby's eyes darkened. "Dammit. I should have held out for three hundred thousand."
Larry sat down at his desk. "So, does this mean that you're going back on the show, Fang?"
"No, Uncle Larry, my job with the police department means I can't work on the show anymore. Remember all the paperwork I brought to last week's dinner?"
"Yeah, it looked like you were developing leads and contacts. A good cop always has a network."
Heph grabbed a knife and began to slice the cake. "Actually, Lar, he was helping Moby and me vet potential recruits for Moby's old job as my full-time field partner."
"So, you'll be running solo for a bit?" Larry asked.
"Nope. We already have our candidate," Heph said. The big blue cyborg popped his head out through the doorway. "Em, can you come in here, please?"
A young blonde in fighting leathers walked in, a compound bow slung over her shoulder. "Guys," Heph said, "this is Agent Munin. She asked really nicely for the job. Besides, she's a fan."
"Hi, guys! I'm Agent Munin. Most people call me Em or Emmy. "Agent Munin" is more a formality than a name I use," Em said.
Larry nodded. "I was about to ask that. You do realize that this job can get a little weird, right? So, uh, Agent Munin, what are your qualifications in dealing with weirdness?"
"Two words: DJ Cozmic." Em said.
Heph, Fang and Moby all nodded knowingly.
"He's got a sentient afro," Fang said.
"His sense of color coordination makes blind people yell at him for hurting their eyes."
"He also sprays orange butt-glitter from his tail. Yes, he has a tail," Heph said. "I think it also might be sentient like his afro."
Fang nodded. "He's also got this thing for Perrey & Kingsley, Masters of the Moog synthesizer. That music seems to follow him wherever he goes."
"I thought I was hallucinating when I heard that, guess I was wrong," Moby said.
Heph brought up the first slice of cake. "So, who wants cake?"
After everyone had gotten their fill of the party atmosphere, Larry called the team meeting to order.
"All right, guys, here's the case. We'll be delivering a summons to one Doctor Pantone over in the Buckingham Estates neighborhood. The neighbors are complaining about falling real estate prices. Mind you these are old-money homes as well, so they're not likely to be affected by the current financial mess."
"Okay. So what's this guy doing? Trying to be the next Morgoth Carter-Whately?" Heph asked.
"No, apparently Doctor Pantone has an unabashed love of... kitsch. Unfortunately for his neighbors he proclaims his love of kitsch very very loudly."
"Describe 'loudly,' Larry," Moby said.
"Well, he took a Queen Anne-style mansion and turned it from its dignified weatherbeaten stone color to... a deep salmon pink, it says here," Larry said. "Also, one of the smokestacks has a giant version of a Kit-Kat clock on it."
"Okay, so the guy's a lousy decorator. Big deal," Heph said.
"The giant clock is lit with bright yellow neon and has a 180-decibel klaxon to tell people when the hour is struck."
"And his neighbors asked him to tone it down?" Em said.
"He refused and shortly thereafter covered the existing roof in a layer of mylar shingles. Brightly polished. When the light from the giant clock hits the roof, it scatters like a giant disco ball."
"So, he's deliberately annoying the people around him?" Heph asked.
Larry nodded. "He says it's his property and no one can stop him."
"Have any of the local heroes stopped by?" Moby asked.
"Well, no. Apparently the eyes on the giant clock are so creepy that they turn around and leave," Larry said.
Moby stood up and checked his gear. "Let's get going, team."
Larry held out a hand. "Easy there, Moby. You're coming with me today to meet the district court staff. You're going to be working with a lot of them so now is the time to make good connections."
"But paperwork sucks," Moby protested.
"Two hundred thousand per year," Larry countered.
"Paperwork sucks less now," Moby continued, "is what I meant to say. Exactly what I meant."
Em shook her head. "Well, Heph, it looks like it's you and me."
"Let's go then," Heph said.
"Shotgun!" Em called. Heph drew his holdout shotgun from a concealed holster in his trousers. Being a large cyborg meant having the ability to conceal long guns as if they were pistols.
"Got one, thanks," Heph said.
Em massaged her temples. "Right."
As the two left, Moby and Larry gave each other a knowing look.
"Five bucks says she tries to put an arrow through his forehead by five PM," Larry said.
"I'll... take the bet!" Moby said with enthusiasm.
As Heph and his new partner walked to the SUV, "Less Talk More Rokk" began to play. Heph stopped and looked around, waiting for an attack.
"What the hell is that?"
"You apparently picked up a soundtrack. Remember when you got sprayed with that glitter from Uncle Coz?"
"Yes. The butt-glitter from his tail. I was most unhappy," Heph said icily.
"That may be causing this. The effects are random," Em said.
"I put my body through an ultrasonic cleaner to get rid of all of it. I'm cleaner than Pat Boone in a semiconductor factory!" Heph said over the synthesizers.
Em shrugged. "The glitter is disturbing and random. It happens."
"Man, this soundtrack better have Journey on it," Heph grumbled.
Sadly for Heph, the soundtrack did not have any Journey on it. Instead he and the crew were subject to "Telefon Rin Rin Rin" and "Caramelldansen" and other such songs. As they exited the SUV, Em shot a look over to Heph.
"What?" Heph asked.
"You took your hands off the wheel while we were merging into another lane."
"Well, I had to do the dance. The song demanded it."
"We were merging at 90 miles per hour. Not. Shiny."
"But it was the Caramelldansen!" Heph explained. "It's a requirement! Besides, I was in control. I was driving with my knees."
"Did you do this to Moby all the time?" Em asked.
"Yes?" Heph offered.
"That can't be good."
"You said you could handle the weird," Heph said.
"The weird? Yes. The stupidly dangerous, though?" Em said with a pause, "I can handle that, too. It's part of the hero business."
As they stepped onto the stone portico with "Bless this Mess" inscribed into the stone, the duo checked the clock again. Five minutes until the klaxon sounded. Heph rang the doorbell.
"This is the second house i've been to that's had "Fly Me to the Moon" as its doorbell."
"Is that significant?" Em asked.
"The first time, it made no sense. This time, it makes sense. This Doctor Pantone knows her obscure sitcom references."
A chipper-looking blonde woman in a paint-spattered lab coat and t-shirt proclaiming her love of the series 'Sheriff Lobo' answered the door.
"Oh, hi! You must be the new decorators!" she said. "Sorry about the last two, but their minds broke with color patterns that Man Was Not Meant To Know." She gestured to them. "Come on in. I'm Doctor Pantone."
The team stepped into the foyer and the slammed shut behind them, followed by a hissing noise as the acoustic seals reintegrated themselves.
"Well, let's take a look at the kitchen, first," Doctor Pantone said.
The crew walked into what could easily be called an abomination in Harvest Gold and Avocado. The Formica countertop had a set of macrame potholders in some of the most muted bright colors out there. The space near the ceiling normally left for crown moulding was wallpapered in a red-orange-yellow accent band in a pattern that could only be called 'hyperpsychedelicalico.' Em slid on a pair of dataglasses.
"Oh, I'm afraid those won't help you here," Doctor Pantone said. This house is wired to keep you from seeing pleasant colors unless I so wish it. Ooh! Look at the time! Let's check the CCTV cameras at the door!"
She pressed a faux-chrome button built into the countertop. A camera raised up as a package deliveryman gingerly stepped onto the portico and was about to ring the bell. The lights dimmed and the deliveryman collapsed on the ground holding his ears. There was only a muffled whine inside as the klaxon set off.
"Yes! The klaxon is right on time!" Doctor Pantone said. "Take that, neighborhood homeowner's association!"
Em slammed her hand on the countertop. "You think this is just a precious little game to play in a fight with your neighbors? That driver will probably need artificial eardrums now! What kind of lunatic are you?"
"It's my property, so it's my rules. And who's to say my rules aren't the right ones? Besides, they're a bunch of boring rich people. Screw 'em!"
"Well, these rich people are rather ticked off that you're ruining something they waned to keep nice, like their quiet neighborhood and their undeafened children. You do realize that sound carries, right?"
"They're only humans. It's no big deal," Doctor Pantone said with a smile. "They're totally replaceable with my army of fashionable bioclones! Besides, this is all being done on my property."
"Okay, see, that's not cool," Heph said. "People don't do that if they expect to be left alone to build a bioclone army in peace. It's also wrecking the value of their homes, which in turn lowers the amount of taxes that can be levied to-"
Doctor Pantone stepped back. "You're not decorators, are you?"
Heph slapped a stack of subpoenas on the counter. "No. We're with the Rhode Island District Courts. And lady, you're going to learn that there's a fine legal line between property rights and being a dick to all and sundry."
"I don't think so," Doctor Pantone said as she hit another button.
"Oh, I think- Em, where did the floor go?" Heph asked as the floor dropped out from under them.
Em thought quickly and fired off a grappling hook arrow into the ceiling. Sadly it only penetrated the false polystyrene ceiling panel and fell back through.
"Ooh! The run-down family room look!" Doctor Pantone said with glee. "I like it!"
The two heroes and their crew found themselves sliding down a large chute and into a hideously early-80s room. The top of the walls had the words "welcome to the doom tube" painted in a hideously-round lowercase font, with bright-colored stripes painted at non-Euclidean angles abounding.
"Good grief! It's like this place was painted by the hideous love child of Jackson Pollock, Peter Max and DJ Cozmic!" Heph shouted.
Em shot Heph another look.
"Sorry," the cyborg mumbled.
The room disassembled itself and reconfigured into a large arena. Doctor Pantone walked out on a raised hovering platform and looked down at Heph and Em.
"Sorry, you two, but this is my property. You just can't come barging in here. So there's going to be some consequences to your actions. Behold the power of STEVE!"
With a flourish, the crazed scientist gestured to another wall. It split apart and out walked a gray-skinned humanoid in a red track suit. Its features were vaguely human but almost featureless.
"Huh. Like that Play-Doh guy from the one Star Trek show," Heph said.
"Odo," Em corrected him.
"Ha! You're a Trekkie," Heph shot back.
Em sighed. "So, Doctor Pantone, care to tell us triumphally about this Steve guy over here?"
"Well, I'm not much to follow tradition. But I will tell you that Steve is the culmination of my two loves: mad science and vintage television shows!" Doctor Pantone said. "And now, you'll face Steve and when he beats you with his superior technology, you'll both have to help me paint the living room and finish the guest bath!"
"You've got to be kidding me, Doc. This is all that you've got?" Heph asked. "Can you get any sillier? Seriously!"
Doctor Pantone scowled behind her glasses. "You'd best do as I say, Hephaestus 1, or my friend will be very unhappy."
"Is that so? What's he gonna do? Stand there and look dumb?" Heph said as he locked his gaze with the mad scientist.
"No, I think you'll change your mind once you've seen the power of this FULLY FUNCTIONAL ACTION TV STAR! Lo, here walks STEVE THE RETROID!"
"FOOL-PITYING POWERS... ONLINE!" Steve the Retroid boomed. Within a few seconds, Steve transformed into a large metal version of Mr. T.
Heph slapped a giant metal hand to his forehead. "Vae mihi..."
"ROBO-T HAS NO TIME FOR JIBBA-JABBA, FOOL." Steve said. "ROBO-T PITIES THE FOOL THAT TRIES TO STOP DOCTOR PANTONE'S PLAN FROM COMING TOGETHER."
Thinking fast, Em readied an electromagnetic pulse arrow. "Heph? You know ancient television better than I do. Hop to, big guy!"
"Ancient? It's not ancient!" Heph said.
"JIBBA-JABBA," Steve said as he readied his Fool-Pitying Death Ray cannon. "IS NOT ALLOWED, NOT EVEN FROM THAT FOOL MURDOCK."
"Yeah?" Heph asked. "Well, in order to beat us, you'll have to get on the next plane to Ecuador!"
"ROBO-T BOARDS NO AIRCRAFT, FOOL!" the Retroid said. "PREPARE TO BE PITIED INTO OBLIVION."
"Wait! There's the plane to Ecuador right now! Murdock is totally taking your van, too!" Heph said as he pointed behind the Retroid.
"MURDOCK CAN WAIT, YOUR DESTRUCTION IS MORE IMPORTANT."
"He's got a nice cold glass of milk... but he might spill it!" Heph said, desperately trying to buy time.
"THAT FOOL MURDOCK HAD BEST NOT MESS WITH ROBO-T'S MILK," the Retroid said as he turned momentarily.
That quick turn gave Em the chance to fire the EMP Arrow directly into Steve the Retroid's neck. The Retroid twitched and sputtered as it leapt into the air with a slow-motion pinging noise.
"SYSTEM SHUTDOWN IMMINENT. REQUIRES REBUILDING. STRONGER. FASTER. BETTER. Estimated repair costs... six mill..." the Retroid said as it dropped to the floor.
Doctor Pantone looked at the two heroes. "You... You got your EMP Arrow in my Retroid!"
"Yeah, well, you put your Retroid in the way of my EMP Arrow!" Em said. "Now they're two great technologies that... uh," she trailed off.
"Taste great together?" Heph offered.
Both Doctor Pantone and Em shot the cyborg a look.
"What?" Heph asked. "Seriously, what?"
Doctor Pantone leapt from the raised platform to the ground to start the Retroid's repair process. "This is gonna take hours. Way to go, guys! I just wanted to have a little fun is all."
Heph took the stack of subpoenas and filled Doctor Pantone's lab coat pockets. "There. You've got your papers. Stop being such a dick to everyone, all right? Show up at the court or else we'll have to come back out here, fight through your entire bioclone army and cause you trouble, hero-style. Got it?"
Doctor Pantone looked down and grumbled. "Fine," she said as she kicked at an imaginary rock. "I'm gonna get revenge, though."
"Take a number behind Morgoth Carter-Whately, the hippie guy who leads the Warriors, some Tsoo henchmen, Maestro, I EAT PASTE MAN, Arbiter Sands, the Clown on Fire from the Red Beast INTENSITY commercials and a whole bunch of other people," Em rattled off.
"I totally forgot about Maestro," Heph said. "You really are a fan, Em!"
"Well, yeah. Why do you think I took the job?" the young archer said.
"I think this new partnership is going to work out very well, Em," Heph said.
"Shiny!"
Meanwhile, Larry McGonigle sat at his desk while Mobius Knight went through a bunch of work-related nonsense. He looked around to see if anyone was outside his office. Seeing no one, he shut the blinds and put a pair of earbuds in his ears and clicked Play on his iPod. Soon he was dancing like a monkey having a brain seizure.
"Won'tchoo takemeto... FUNKYTOWN!!! Awantchoo takemeto... FUNKYTOWN!!!" Larry sang as he danced.
Hephaestus 1, Agent Munin, Mobius Knight and the recording crew of Clem and Earl stared in horror as they opened the door. The scene cut to black as "Funkytown" played during the closing credits of the show.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Grandville, Rogue Isles
Everything was going according to plan. Well as much as anything went to plan around here. The various officials in the American government had been persuaded to approve the visas for Kelly and her group-though that was the sticky point. Dr Aeon looked down at the list in his hand. Three people she had asked to bring with her-and all three of them were registered heroes in Paragon City, and had caused a vast multitude of problems for Arachnos. Irine Jacobsen, formerly of the FBI, until outed as the martial artist Violet Raccoon, Rhonda Evans, aka Polekitty, who had defaced the grand statue of Lord Recluse by painting a large Groucho Marx moustache on His cowled visage, (after helping to beat both his inner circle and Recluse himself into the ground like tent pegs, and destroy the Web Device prototype to boot) and
the third. Modern Samurai. Even the best intelligence had not discovered his true name, though it had to be somewhere. Not but a few months ago he had single handedly breached Ghost Widows tower, and now? He was listed as manager on the form.
Still it was not really unexpected. Kelly was still rather naive in the ways of the world, and the Defenders of Paragon would have talked her into taking some support incase if was a trap of some sort. Still, Jacobsen was an accomplished bass player, and Evans was listed as a photographer-from the dossier that one of the Arbiters had handed him on her earlier, she was in line for a possible photojournalism scholarship when she finished high school. The swordsman on the other hand
that was obvious. He was there as insurance, and also as a challenge.
Dr Aeon?
He almost jumped at the tap on his shoulder. Quickly gathering his composure he nodded to Lord Recluses major domo yes, what is it?
Lord Recluse shall see you now sir.
Taking a deep breath and with confidence he didnt really feel, he entered his Lords chambers.
Recluses mood as was ever, dark. There were bloody teeth on the floor, testament to the last briefer who was the bearer of unpleasant news. You wished to see me my Lord?
What is the status on Project Songbird?
We have received the list on who she wishes to bring with her- he began, holding it out, only to have it snatched from his fingers by one of Recluses extra robotic arms. Trying not to sweat too visibly he watched as the lord of the rogue isles went over the list.
Not surprising, she has worked with us before on that nuke problem three years ago, and PoleKitty is a close confidant of hers- Recluses voice stopped, and a small tic formed over one eye.
Aeon groaned inwardly as the PDA shattered, a white-hot glare of fury on Recluses face. He closed his eyes and winced waiting for the blow-
Approved. Notify our consulate in the Bahamas and have them notify Miss lamb that her partys visas are granted.
He nodded and bowed, backing for the door before his Lord changed his mind, only to be stopped short by an ominous growl. And Doctor
Aeon gulped yes my lord?
This had BETTER work.
Alpha Sanction Base, undisclosed location, Rogue Isles
This must be serious she thought as she winged in through the hallways, to take her off the Malta incident case. The pink winged mutant landed gracefully in the main room, pausing to glance at herself in the mirror, one does not appear before an Arbiter looking like you just woke up, even if you had. While her coloring did tend to make it hard to do much in the way of undercover work, huge pink feathered wings matching her hair, and almost bobcat like ears, a legacy of parents who survived the meteor strikes on Bloody Bay, it did tend to make sure that those she fought definitely remembered her. Taking a deep breath she squared her shoulders, knocking on the commanders office door.
Enter!
She stepped in, closing the door behind her, standing at attention before his desk. That was one of the things he liked about her Saka thought. Others had their own agendas, their own plans and schemes that such as summons would have not produced the same response. Oh they would have come, but their displeasure at their own plots being disrupted would be obvious.
Talana however, was like himself in many ways. She was not in this for the glory, or money, or power-but because these isles had been her familys home for hundreds of years. Her father had served as an Arbiter, a fact not known to her or her mother until his death during the first Rikti invasion, and thus had followed in his footsteps, serving Arachnos and defending her home. He smiled have a seat, there is something special that has come up.
She nodded, noticing then that the commander was there as well, Operative Bane actually behind the desk. He gave her a quick reassuring smile as well as the young mutant sat down. Yes Sir, how may I serve?
He handed her a file what do you know of this person?
She opened it and blinked Kelly? Well, she was a former lackey of the so called Emperor Xanatos, escaped prototype from Crey industries, had her mental conditioning broken by the vigilante Aurora, then moved to Paragon city-
No, I dont mean what do you know of her dossier, and I am impressed that you have obviously read it he replied, I mean, what do you know of her personally?
Oh, well Ive run into her at Pocket D, shes a nice kid. Ive never seen or heard of her having a bad thing to say about anyone, and Shes a great singer.
Youve heard her?
Talana nodded yes Sir, it was in a report from several months ago, there was a situation that the Vanguard needed taken care of, she and I were some of the ones available for Lady Grey.
Saka nodded I remember that, there is a commendation in the works for you in that matter by the way. She blushed and he held up his hand to forestall her protest no, you have earned that and more. But continue, you mentioned something in your report about her turning the tide?
For a moment she saw it again in her mind. Rikti, thousands of them, their so-called four riders were tearing the team apart. She and one healer from the mainland were doing all they could to stem the tide. Her mentor had fallen and before she could get to him to heal his wounds he selfishly teleported out, another dammed hero looking out for himself first. She had been staggered from a vicious blow from a chief soldier, his alien alloy blade gleaming in the dim light of the tunnels-then she heard it-a lone voice, singing, loud and strong
One life Im gonna live it up
Im takin flight I said Ill never get enough
Stand tall Im young and kinda proud
Im on top as long as the musics loud
If you think Ill sit around as the world goes by
Youre thinkin like a fool cause its a case of do or die
Out there is a fortune waitin to be had
You think Ill let it go youre mad
Youve got another thing comin
The Rikti officer had snarled and turned, ignoring her, as he spun towards the small sheep hybrid, the blade skittering off whatever sort of defenses Kelly had. She diddnt even stop singing along with her iPod she thought at the absurd tableau before her, as the nine foot alien warrior was sent sailing into the ceiling , out cold by ehe small fist of the four foot tall hybrid.
She didnt even like Judas Priest, but she found the music renewing her confidence as she cleared her head, getting to her feet, the flames curling around her, healing her near fatal wounds. (and a few minor nicks on the lamb) Kelly just smiled and said stick close to me before diving back in again, singing at the top of her lungs to be heard over the cacophany of war.
Thats right heres where the talkin ends
Well listen this night therell be some action spent
Drive hard Im callin all the shots
I got an ace card comin down on the rocks
If you think Ill sit around while you chip away my brain
Listen I aint foolin and youd better think again
Out there is a fortune waitin to be had
You think Ill let it go youre mad
You got another thing comin
Snapping back to the office she nodded yes Sir. It was totally random too, she just sang along with whatever was on her iPod set on shuffle. It was weird, it seemed like whatever came up was oddly appropriate to the situation at hand.
Bane laughed a bit Dr Aeon actually spent several months studying if Apple had some how put mind scanning technology in those, my own tends to pick songs that fit the situation at times. Almost like its psychic.
The arbiter nodded, well the devices were ubiquitous as he looked back at the report on his screen. Even with your numbers reduced, you still managed to defeat the Riktis four horsemen and their honoree. Most impressive.
She blushed again, though with her dark coloring it wasnt easy to see thankfully as Saka continued. Arachnos has a new task for you he said, handing her a sheet of paper. She glanced down at it and blinked, it was a concert flyer Kelly Lamb at the Golden Giza? Shes coming here?
Yes he replied, handing over a folder, large top secret lettering stamped on its cover this is Project Songbird, which you are now a part of. You will be the official liaison between our Lords government and Miss Lambs party. Make sure they have everything they need.
She nodded, putting aside the thought of why me? because she knew why. While many of her teammates were good people, in many ways she was like Kelly. She fought because she had to, not because she enjoyed it. Setting people on fire was a particularly poor way of changing their minds, and more fatal than she liked to think about. It was a reward, something important that didnt involve mayhem after the last few weeks. When are they due in?
End of the week, and the concert is one week after that. Keep an eye on them, especially the Samurai replied Bane. He had many clashes with the swordsman himself in the past Jacobsen is former FBI, Evans is about your age. I dont expect any trouble with those two, but as for him-something worries me.
Saka nodded if there is a threat, it will be from him, but we have intelligence that has promised miss lamb to be on his good behavior. They will be arriving from the Bahamas straight to the Giza at 1600 Friday.
She nodded and rose Ill have everything ready by then sir.
The arbiter actually smiled. Hed worked with her father, it was a sad day when he died, but he died honorably serving, and he could still see him in her at times I know you will, dismissed.
After she left Bane looked back at the Arbiter you know that file was from Dr Aeon, it doesnt disclose everything about the project.
Saka just smiled enigmatically and sipped his tea Yes, but she is like her father. She will figure it out herself, and make it work as our Lord intends.
*The "Serv'd!" theme song plays, the montage rolls on, and the credits go to black and fade back into the picture.*
Hephaestus 1 pulled the SUV into its reserved parking space and noticed the empty space next to him. He nudged his field partner, Agent Munin, and pointed to the spot with his thumb.
"Look at that, Emmy," he said. "Moby has Larry's old parking spot, but he never drives to work."
"Does he have a car?" Emmy asked.
Heph shrugged. "I don't really know. Maybe he doesn't."
The duo got out of Heph's SUV and walked into the district courts building. Both planters that flanked the doors were slashed in half, as was the cluster of newspaper boxes.
Heph's mechanical eyebrow popped up. "He couldn't have done this!"
Emmy looked around. "It's his second week, right? He shouldn't be that angry already."
Heph looked over the reception desk at the security guard. The old man was currently cowering behind the marble. "Uh, excuse me, Marty. Did Mobius Knight come this way?"
Marty's hand rose from behind the desk and pointed towards Moby's new office.
"Is he mad?" Emmy asked.
"Yes," a meek reply came from behind the desk.
"Really mad?" Heph asked.
"Yep."
"About what?" Heph asked again.
"You'll find out," Marty said.
"Hey, boss?" Emmy asked. "We'd better get to the office before he goes nuts again."
Heph nodded and the two heroes quickly moved to the office. The layout was pretty much the same as Larry's: the desk faced the door and anything that Moby saw on his computer wasn't viewable by visitors. The pictures of Larry's family were gone and replaced with pictures of Mobius Knight and his fiancée, the lovely and talented Terra Skye, pictures of Moby and his dog Mr. Snugglesworth, and a picture of the Burger King that Shava gave to him as an officewarming present. Despite the obvious signs of attempts to remove it, the frame stayed firmly attached to the desk. Heph shuddered as he walked in.
"That picture still creeps me out," Heph said. "I don't even have to look at it and I can feel the King's eyes burning through my soul."
"Why did she give Moby such an awful present?" Emmy asked.
"She likes to see people squirm," a voice filled with restrained fury said behind them.
Heph and Emmy turned around to see their legal liaison, Mobius Knight standing behind them with a katana in one hand and a rolled-up newspaper in the other.
"Hey, Moby," Heph said. "Bad night?"
"No. Just a bad morning. Did you see Paragon Entertainment News' headline today?" the swordsman asked.
Heph shook his head. "I can't say that I have."
With a flourish, Moby unfurled the paper edition of Paragon City's entertainment industry news. The headline was stark: "BRICK LANDERS LANDS LEAD IN 'THE CHRISTMAS NINJA'" and the sub-headline was worse. "Landers to play local ninja hero Mobius Knight." The picture of Brick Landers was one of the actor in his Mobius Knight costume, if Moby was known to wear lemon yellow and lime green pants, a red-and-blue striped t-shirt and rainbow suspenders, topped off with a rainbow-colored fright wig.
"That's not Moby, that's more like Uncle Coz," Emmy said.
"I know. Who told him that I was a ninja?" Moby yelled through his mask. "I'm sick of everyone making that mistake!"
"He's probably seen the show, saw what you looked like, put two and two together... and come up with seventeen," Heph said.
Moby ran his fingers through is hair. "I don't look anything like him. How can Brick Landers be this stupid?"
Neither Heph nor Emmy answered this question. Brick Landers was the zenith of stupidity. Even asking a rhetorical question about Brick's stupidity made you lose a few IQ points for a few seconds. Moby let the wave of stupidity and nausea pass, then he sat at his desk and began to fill out paperwork.
"I'm giving you two an assignment. You're delivering a cease-and-desist order to this guy, you're delivering a shutdown order to Paragon Film Partners for... I don't know... crimes against humanity or something," Moby growled. "Just make them halt all production on this movie!"
Heph shook his head. "Moby, for one you just can't write this stuff yourself, you need a judge-"
"Judge Mannis signed them already. He's dealt with their crap too many times," Moby interrupted.
"Huh," Emmy said. "What, did he consider the picture in the paper to be probable cause?"
"Yeah, for once he and I agreed on something. Now as for you two, get over to the Paragon Film Partners studio immediately! This has to get stopped today!"
"Right, right," Heph said. "We're on it, boss man."
Emmy scooped up the papers and dropped them into a messenger bag. "I'll deliver them. Besides, I need the practice."
"Uh, okay," Heph said. "It doesn't take a lot to say 'Here are your papers, please sign here' though."
"All right, fine," the blonde-haired archer said to her mentor. "I just want to drop off the papers for once!"
"Sure," the cyborg said. "I'll let you."
As the two walked to Heph's waiting SUV, Moby threw open his window and leaned out. "Avenge me! AVENGE ME!" he shouted to the duo.
The palm of Heph's metal hand found his forehead again. He realized that he shouldn't have told Moby about the Red Dawn marathon on the 80s Movies Channel. He and Emmy got into his vehicle and drove to the Paragon Film Partners Studio.
The studio wasn't too far away from the District Courts building. It was an older complex of red brick buildings near the south end of Steel Canyon. The chain-link fences that marked off the property line laid on the bare ground, witnesses of the many Outcasts who regularly used the complex as their dumping ground for unconscious Trolls and stolen goods. One would think that putting your enemies near your loot would be a bad idea, but the Outcasts weren't noted for intelligence. Who else but the Outcasts would try to break into bus stops and park benches these days? The studio's crowning feature was an old soot-stained building from its heyday, when Paragon Film Partners could film a sequel to "The Towering Inferno" and no one tried to stop them. The budget ran out after three floors, so the directors demanded very tight shots to make the building look more imposing. Then again, salmon pink isn't exactly a threatening color. Eventually, the company was sold to a mysterious cabal of investors, one of whom seemed to want Brick Landers to star in every movie. After a few years of making Troma look like Merchant-Ivory, Paragon Film Partners shuttered the studio for most of the year. And now, this window of opportunity to make another movie opened once more.
Despite this upswell of activity, Heph and Emmy drove up to an abandoned studio. The security gate was locked down and no guard sat in the booth. The duo got out of the SUV and peered into the studio lot.
"They must have finished filming," Emmy said. "There's no one here-- wait! Heph! Look!" she shouted, pointing towards two men huddled together as if in discussion.
Heph looked over. The men both wore broad-brimmed brown hats and nondescript camel-colored trenchcoats with the collars turned up, so he couldn't make out their faces very well. They noticed Emmy pointing at them, and the two men began running away from the heroes. Within seconds, Emmy's bow was out and a volley of glue arrows arced into the sky. The arrows found their marks and splattered all over the two men. Heph ran to the men, his eye-lasers gleaming and at the ready.
"All right you two, it's time to talk," he said. The two men looked at each other and seemed to pop out of existence as they teleported away from the trap, their trenchcoats still stuck in the glue.
"I hate when they teleport away," Heph said dejectedly.
"We'll find them boss," Emmy said as she made the quick jog to the glue patch. "We can search their coats when the glue hardens. Or we can ask Myme."
"Myme?" Heph asked. "Why would we ask Myme?"
"Well, he's been standing there watching the two guys talk."
"How do you know?" Heph asked.
"He was mocking them in a carefree but non-verbal manner, making a commentary with his actions," Emmy said. "How could you not see him?"
"I don't know, maybe he did the "stuck in a box" routine and it was somehow opaque to me, or something," Heph said. "Hey, Myme, come here a minute."
The Myme sauntered merrily to the two heroes and with a jaunty push of his beret, he greeted the heroes with a flourishing wave.
^o^
"We need your help. Can you come with us? We want to find out who those two men were," Heph said.
The Myme acted as if he was pondering something, then nodded his head.
^_^
In one of the interview rooms at the District Court building, Heph and Emmy sat with Myme, trying to get an explanation from him. Heph slapped his hand on the desk.
"We haven't gotten anywhere with this, even if we've only been here for five minutes. Was Brick Landers one of the two men talking to each other in the studio lot when we showed up?"
The Myme nodded and gave Heph a thumbs-up.
^-^
"Look, Myme, you're our star witness for this case."
^_^
"You heard what Brick Landers was planning to do, and we need you to tell us," Emmy said.
^^'
"Right... well, let's figure something out," Heph said.
-_-
"No, napping won't help."
>_<
"Oh, sorry, you were thinking. My bad."
^_~
"Riiiiight," the large cyborg said. "So, we know it was Brick. Was the other guy, Larry, my old liaison from this show?"
The Myme shrugged.
Heph showed him a picture of Larry from Larry's retirement party. "Did he look like this?"
The Myme shook his head.
"Did he look like Larry wearing a trenchcoat?" Heph asked.
The Myme shook his head again. Everyone settled in. This was going to take some time.
Three hours later, the trio of heroes was still in the interview room.
"Okay... bigger than a breadbox?" Heph asked. The Myme nodded.
^_^
"Hero or villain?" Emmy asked.
@_@
"He's a hypnotist?"
The Myme nodded.
"Is he... an evil hypnotist?"
The Myme put his pinky to the corner of his mouth.
What evil hypnotists do we know?
"Quite a few actually, like Brainman, Braindo the Thought Mutilator, Cerebral..."
The Myme rolled his eyes melodramatically.
"Yeah, it's going to be a long list."
The Myme shook his head again and rolled his eyes melodramatically.
"Yes, really, really long."
Again, Myme shook his head.
>_< !
Heph and Emmy sat there, stunned. They had seen the rarest of things, a mime being so dramatic that it was like he'd shouted at them.
"Fine, we're all ears," Emmy said.
^^'
"Oops," the young archer said.
The Myme held up one finger.
"First word," Heph and Emmy said simultaneously.
The Myme nodded.
T_T
"Weeping," Heph said. "Weeping Sores Man!"
The Myme shook his head.
T_T
"Crying?" Emmy asked.
The Myme tugged his ear.
"Sounds like crying," the girl said. "Drying... trying... uh, brying?"
The Myme tapped his nose and pointed at Emmy.
"But that's not a word. Brying, brying," she said, then paused. "Wait, is it a proper name? It's Brian!"
The Myme gave a thumbs up.
"We have evil hypnotists who use their proper names?" Heph asked.
"Named Brian, hmm?" Emmy pulled out a pair of dataglasses similar to her father's. "Wait a minute. The only one here is listed as Brian Frieze, the Misspellcaster!"
"Oh, him," Heph said, trying to sound like he knew about whom Emmy was talking. His internal link to the police database brought up the Misspellcaster's profile. He learned mind-control spells, including one that was supposed to induce a feeling like a "brain freeze" as if you'd just sucked down an entire Giant Slurpee in three seconds. Fortunately, he often misspelled his words of power and regularly misspoke them as well.
The "Serv'd!" crew and The Myme ran to the SUV to deliver the necessary summons to the Misspellcaster.
In a small apartment near the Pandora's Box store in Skyway City, the Misspellcaster was having a bad day. He meant to say "Lock the door" when he cast his spell to secure the apartment, but said "Dock the Lore." The next thing he knew, his door was still open and half of his magic library was gone.
"Oh, I hate that," the Misspellcaster said, "Spam doonerisms....GAH! Damn spoonerisms!"
Heph poked his head through the unlucky mage's doorway. "Anyone home? Like a guy named Brian Frieze?"
"Uh, mat's thee, ah, dammit! That's me!" the Misspellcaster said. "What can I do for you?"
Hephaestus 1 stepped inside. "We'd like to talk about Brick Landers with you."
"Lick Branders? Er, Brick Landers? Never heard of him."
"We've got a witness saying you were talking to him on the Paragon Film Partners studio lot today."
"Your writness is wong, uh, witness is wrong," the mage said.
"You've also got a large blob of bright orange glue from my glue arrow stuck on your pantleg," Emmy said.
"Oh," the Misspellcaster said as he looked down. He looked back up and gestured at them. "BRAN FREEZE! Oh, dammit! BRIAN FREEZE! Gah!"
Brian found himself encased in ice up to his neck.
"We're going to have a long talk with you, Brian," Hephaestus 1 said.
Ninety minutes later, the team was back in Mobius Knight's office. If Moby smiled often, this was one of those times.
"So, this Misspellcaster guy was hired to help Brick Landers get a good picture of my costume?"
"Yep, but he cast a spell to find a 'nonja' costume instead of a 'ninja' costume."
Mobius Knight nodded as he typed. "Well, DJ Cozmic's costumes are about an non-ninja as you can get. I'm still mad that Brick Landers tried taking my name, though."
"Hey, we got 'The Christmas Ninja' production stopped before it got going, but that's the price of fame, Moby. You get famous enough and people will try to pass themselves off as you."
"At least you're unique enough to not have to worry about that, Heph," Moby said.
"You've got a very recognizable face," Emmy added.
"True. And I was voted 'Sexiest Male Full-Conversion Cyborg With a Television Show' by the readers of 'Very Specific People' Magazine," Heph said, pretending to polish his nails on his jacket. "Let's head out. I think it's time for a crazy dance party at Pocket D."
As the "Serv'd!" team headed out of the District Courts building, they heard a rather uncommon cry for them.
"Oh my God! It's Hephaestus 1! He's sooo hot! I want his autograph!" one woman said.
"He's dreamy," a starstruck girl said.
Heph looked around. "Me? Well, uh, thanks..."
The team then noticed all the women swarming a Zeus Class Titan with the name "Hephaestus 1" stenciled on the side.
"Ladies, Ladies, the there's only so much Hephalicious goodness to go around!" the Titan said. "One at a time, please!"
Moby pointed and laughed at Heph as the show faded to credits.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Christmas was miserable.
Of course, when people asked me how my holiday had gone, I replied, Wonderful. But It wasnt. It was, as I said, miserable.
Jessie had invited me to spend Christmas with her and her family, and I did visit with them for a while. Her sisters looked at me the way I look at puppies, with that, Oh, how cuuuute, face.
The adults though
Well, I am dating the baby, so to speak. I think they assessed nothing cute about me.
No one made me feel unwanted, mind you or excluded for that matter. Perhaps the problem was all with my own perceptions. Or perhaps seeing Jessie with so much of her family reminded me of the blank slate that is my own past. Maybe it was some event etched upon my soul from any one of my forgotten holidays past. More likely though, it was the plan.
Wait, make that the Plan.
You see, after nearly killing myself, then making Jessie go through excruciating pain in order to keep me from dying; after almost getting kicked out of school; after sitting through ungodly boring, embarrassing hours with my therapist; after being looked at as if Im some emo punk by the boys, and some emo dream by the girls; after all that, I still had no idea whether or not Cassi had conquered her demon, or even where she might be. Every day I attempted to find her. Every day. And where once we had some sort of connection, a something that let us find each other no matter where in the city we might be that connection seemed lost. Other people would see her, talk to her, but not me. Never me.
I flirted briefly with the idea to call Mrs. Kinsolving and ask her about Cassi, but I hadnt divulged Cassis predicament to Mr. Kinsolving, and if Cassi hadnt told them, was it my place to do so? But then, what if she was in mortal danger?
The problem with having no memory is that I had nothing to compare the situation to. No previous experience of any kind. Nothing before I came to Paragon City.
And it was that kind of thinking that inspired the Plan.
One night, a few days before Christmas, I met with Jessie in her room at her SS8 and we talked. We do that a lot. I love to hear her voice, her laugh. Id like to think that Ill never forget the sound of her, but I could. I could forget her so completely that she would be a stranger to me.
Have I mentioned that I am mnemonically challenged?
Months ago, when I woke up in that Creycare clinic, the doctors tested me and determined that my amnesia is total. My long-term memories are wiped, and on my own I have no short-term memory. Yes, thats exactly what that means. I have no memory, and no ability to make new ones. Basic things like language and knowing how to get dressed those things remained, along with a few odds and ends of social awareness familiar songs for instance but beyond that
nothing.
I maintain my memory through the use of an experimental drug called Zelpelerpine. I have to inject it every day in order to remember who I am, where I am, what I do all of the things that make me, me. My very identity, I owe to medication. (Didnt you wonder why I would have a hypodermic needle in my utility belt?)
This condition is something I had managed to keep hidden so far.
So, I sat on Jessies bed and explained all this to her. I was afraid. I mean, how can I tell her that she is the world and all its wonders to me in one breath, and then with the next say that if I miss my meds for a couple of days Ill forget her entirely? How can she trust me like that? How can I ever ask her to commit herself to me when I rely on a drug to remember the color of her eyes?
She took it well, considering, which only made the next part harder to tell her.
This was the Plan: I would quit taking the Zelpelerpine until I lost my memory. After that, someone perhaps my friend Ben Kirby-Love would re-medicate me so that I would start to make new memories again. And someone and for this I would likely have to enlist extra help would have to make sure that the very first girl I met afterwards would be Cassi Nova. Only then would there be a good chance that I would fall in love with her and thus meet the possessing demons conditions.
Under no circumstances could I risk seeing Jessie again.
It was a good plan. It was a terrible plan. It was a plan that could work.
We agreed that we would wait until New Years, and if no other solution presented itself, then we would do this. We would give up our love for the sake of our friend.
We laid back and held each other, our legs thrown together like pick-up sticks, hinting at intimacies that might never be.
I fell asleep in her arms and didnt care if I ever woke up.
Two days after Christmas, I was in Founders Falls, checking out a place called Elaines Bistro, thinking that perhaps it would be a good place to take Jessie on our last date.
Suddenly, as if there was a compass in my head seeking to find North, I felt a gentle tickle in my mind, a light, slight twitch that tells me where my best friend is. Cassi.
I shot away from the restaurant, flying away as fast as my telekinesis would push me, following that mystical GPS we seem to share. I found her sitting by a waterfall. She was just as powerful and awe-inspiring as the nature around her.
I set myself down softly beside her. She spoke first.
How are you?
I think I should be asking how you are.
I'm alive. You and Jessie saved my life.
You... sound like yourself. Are you?
Me? Yeah. For the first time in a long time.
So the whole thing with the needle
it worked?
What you did and why you did it... no one else would have ever done that for me.
She smiled. I had my friend back.
Now Ive stuck the Plan far in the back of my mind, unused, one of the few things I hope to forget.
I cant wait to tell Jessie!
Did I say Christmas was miserable? Well, it was, but New Years is going to be wonderful!
Happy ending? I couldnt have made up a better one.
[ QUOTE ]
(Also, WOOT for Kitten America! Now you get the 10% discount at IHOP.)
[/ QUOTE ]
((
Duuude I loved those pancakes with a face on them designed by chocolate chips! It was the best breakfast ever!))
[ QUOTE ]
Of course, when people asked me how my holiday had gone, I replied, Wonderful. But It wasnt. It was, as I said, miserable.
[/ QUOTE ]
((
Haha I do the same thing. Customer, "How are you?" Me, "Oh I'm great, you?" 
I see no reason to babble on about my miseries to people I don't know. ))
((For inquisitive minds, this ties in with what's going on here.
))
GreenAngelofMercy: I see you.
SlippedMyMind: hi!
GreenAngelofMercy: Whatcha dooooin?
SlippedMyMind: drinking a chocamocha shake.
GreenAngelofMercy: Wheres mine? >
SlippedMyMind: come on down to Spankys Boardwalk and you can share mine.
GreenAngelofMercy: Come here and bring it with you. 
SlippedMyMind: cant. using the wifi here.
GreenAngelofMercy: Why? We have wifi here.
SlippedMyMind: noidnoid.
GreenAngelofMercy:
?
SlippedMyMind: thats a pair o noid.
GreenAngelofMercy: LOL!
Why are you noidnoid?
SlippedMyMind: prying iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
GreenAngelofMercy: Now youre just being silly.
SlippedMyMind: dont want anyone to see me booking here http://www.littlepalmisland.com/
GreenAngelofMercy: Oooooooh! Is that it!?!
SlippedMyMind: yep.
GreenAngelofMercy: Oooooooh!
SlippedMyMind: package deal. flight down. boat out. three days two nights. suite.
GreenAngelofMercy:
SlippedMyMind: scuba diving on saturday and sunday.
GreenAngelofMercy: Whos gonna have time for scuba?
SlippedMyMind: 
GreenAngelofMercy:
SlippedMyMind: they also have this
http://www.littlepalmisland.com/Litt...ctivities.aspx
GreenAngelofMercy: Ooooooooh! I guess well have to come out of the room some time
SlippedMyMind: inxay on the oomray!
GreenAngelofMercy: Pft! First rule of spying if you try to hide stuff, people notice. Youre better off just doing things nonchalantly out in the open.
SlippedMyMind: that will be great comfort when youre making my funeral arrangements if your dad finds out.
GreenAngelofMercy: You should worry more about my mom. Both of them. But were not going to get caught.
SlippedMyMind: i hope not.
GreenAngelofMercy: Were not.
SlippedMyMind: hope not.
GreenAngelofMercy: Punch yourself in the arm for me.
SlippedMyMind: ow! darn! that hurt!
GreenAngelofMercy: Did you really?
SlippedMyMind: have i ever lied ot you?
GreenAngelofMercy:
SlippedMyMind: confirmed.
GreenAngelofMercy:
?
SlippedMyMind: were booked.
GreenAngelofMercy: I love you.
SlippedMyMind: i know.
(Season 3, Episode 3!)
The theme to "Serv'd!" played as the opening credits rolled.
Tonight, the crew of "Serv'd!" was taking a well-deserved break at Pocket D. Hephaestus 1 was socializing with the crowd at DJ Logos' show, bantering and carrying on.
"Seriously, guys, that's how it was done back home," Heph said, "the Governor's symbol of office was the traditional Dead Muskrat which was stapled to his head in place of hair. This is why all Illinois governors have had bad hair for years. It's really a dead muskrat."
"That's disgusting," Agent Munin said. "So they go through all that just to wear a dead muskrat on their heads?"
"Yep," Heph said. "That's exactly why people run for Governor in Illinois. Dead muskrats and bribes for contracts."
"That explains a lot about the state," Earl said.
Heph turned around as he heard some footsteps behind him. "Ah, my beer's h- oh, you're not the one bringing me a beer. Who are you?"
"I'm a registered process server with the government of the Etoile Isles. You, Hephaestus 1, are being served with a summons to appear before a magistrate in a lawsuit brought by one Virgil Duray."
Heph's "WTF?" eyebrow popped up. "Excuse me?"
"Colonel Duray, leader of the Sky Raiders, is suing for copyright infringement."
"Look, I only compared his troops to dorky-helmeted bees once!" Heph said. "Besides, I haven't done anything even vaguely related to Sky Raiders!"
"Ah, see, that's where you're wrong. Your Raiderhosen Tactical Lederhosen line of clothes is far too close to his line of clothes, the Raider Tactical Clothing Collection," the process server said.
"You've got to be kidding me," Heph said.
Agent Munin just blinked a few times. "Heph?"
"Yes, Em?"
"Is he serious?"
"I think so, but I'll give him the same respect that I get when I've had to serve papers on Rogue Isles-based criminals."
"So you're going to point and laugh at him?" the young archer asked.
"Yes, Em, that's what I'm going to do."
The process server scowled. "Look, I'm just trying to do my job here, guys. Just let me do this and go home, all right?"
"No, I can't do that," Heph said. "I haven't pointed and laughed at you trying to steal my thunder."
The process server's shoulders slumped. "I'm just trying to pay my way through college with this gig, man, leave me alone."
"Ah, college. There's your problem!" Heph said. "See, I managed to make a good career as a cop and turn it into a career as a private detective, process server, and later, reality show star. I did all of this without a degree. I'm just a high school graduate. I never went to college. And yet, here I am with the fame and the money. Maybe you should go into a trade or something. What's your name, kid?"
"SiegeWing," the process server said. "College is just a stepping stone to what I ultimately want to do, though."
"So you have dreams of success, huh?" Heph asked.
"Yeah, who doesn't want to be successful?"
"Good point. You have to understand that dreams are great, but you have to work to make them real. If you want to achieve your dreams, you have to treat them like a rainbow: you must catch it and put it in your pocket!"
Everyone stopped and stared at the large blue cyborg.
"That's right! If you can touch the rainbow of success, that's one thing. But you have to catch it and make it yours to find success!" Heph said, nodding.
SiegeWing and Agent Munin shared a confused look.
"Otherwise," Heph said, pointing at the process server, "you'll be nothing but a dirty little RAINBOW TOUCHER. You've got to grab that rainbow! Don't just touch it!"
"Uh," the young man said, confused and a little weirded out.
"Do you want success? Yeah, you do!" Heph said. "All right, say it with me, then: I AM NOT A RAINBOW TOUCHER."
"I don't want to say that, though," the process server said.
"Say it! Say that you won't touch rainbows! You'll grab them and stick them in your pockets!"
"Uh, I won't touch rainbows?"
"Come on! Say it loud! I WON'T BE A DIRTY RAINBOW TOUCHER!"
The process server sighed. "Fine. I won't be a dirty rainbow toucher!"
Heph gave the young man a thumbs-up. "That's the positive attitude that'll get you farther in life than any college management course! Catch that rainbow!"
"Can I have your autograph?" the process server said.
"Sure, kid," Heph said as he signed the papers with his hero name.
"Thanks! Now here's your copy and instructions on where to show up for court. Failure to do so will result in a warrant being put out for your arrest." With that the young man left.
"Ah, he's a good kid," Heph said. "Easily excitable and such."
"Heph, you just signed that summons," Agent Munin said. "He got you to sign it."
Heph shrugged. "Yeah, so he did. Oh well, I guess Hephaestus 1 will have to risk being arrested."
"Isn't that you, though?" Agent Munin asked.
"Yeah, but seeing as how all us mechanical types look alike, they'll probably go after that Zeus Titan who has been passing himself off as me. Especially when you consider that I signed it in the Titan's handwriting."
Agent Munin smiled. "That's just mean, Heph."
"Hey, the guy deserves it for trying to be me." Heph's beer finally arrived. "Ah, here we go. Just what the doctor ordered."
The screen faded out as the heroes dance and partied into the night.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Early Friday afternoon, the municipal airport just north of Steel Canyon
Jessie? Are you nervous?
Me? About what?
What were about to do.
Oh.
Well, I have to confess Im nervous.
You are?
Of course I am. Ive never done it before.
Clint! You think I have? What kind of ? Wait, what exactly are we referring to?
Flying, Jessie. Ive never been on an airplane. At least not that I can remember.
Oh. Hehe. I thought you were talking about
About what?
Nevermind. Oh look! The signs on. Buckle up! Were taking off.
7:17 pm, Friday evening, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys
Oh. Wow! This is nice! The suite looks even better in person than it did in the pictures!
I knew youd like it!
I love it!
I love you.
Oh you-- Did you tip the porter?
Generously so.
So
?
So no one will disturb us.
No one?
No one.
Good. I want me all to yourself this weekend.
Me too.
Um
Id like to maybe
freshen up
or something. Wheres the shower?
Outside.
Outside?
Off the patio. I was assured it was private though.
But
outside?
And theres a hot tub.
Where?
Um... Looks like its out on the patio also.
Oh.
Yeah.
Clint
I
Its just that
Im not sure Im ready for that
I mean its romantic and everything, under the stars and all
but
Were used to living in a place where people can fly overhead at any time.
Yeah.
Well, lets see what weve got inside
Im sorry. I dont mean to sound like a
No worries, love. Just let me have a quick look-see in the master bath-- Ohhh
double-wow.
What is it?
Come see?
Ohhh
Shall I draw you a bath, Miss Eagle?
You may draw us a bath, Mr. Smith.
9:05 pm, Friday evening, on a moonlit dock
No! I cant handle it! Eww!
Just try
one time.
No!
Just put a little in your mouth you might like it
Eww!
Jessie
Itsits got
tentacles!
Im sorry. I had no idea that Ika Shoga Yaki meant ginger-marinated squid.
Its all right
just
get rid of it?
No problem
There. Im sure some underprivileged shark will be happy to get that.
Good luck to it!
Youre so darned cute.
Me?
Yeah, you.
Clint
?
Jessie?
Forgive me?
Ill forgive you, but if the chef finds out we messed up his Moonlight Dock Romantic Dinner by throwing that squid away
Thats not what I mean. You know what I mean.
Oh.
I chickened out
After all this
Darling, its our first night. No use in rushing things. The bath was special, wasnt it?
Yeah. It was
mmm.
It was for me too. So, no apologies. For anything. All weekend. Okay?
I love it when you call me darling."
What?
You called me darling just now. It gives you a
Cary Grant vibe.
Jessie, Jessie, Jessie.
You nut.
You say that, but you love my Cary Grant vibe.
I love your vibe.
My vibe, vibe.
Your vibe, vibe.
I like our vibe, vibe too.
How much do you think this Moonlight Dock Romantic Dinner cost you?
Why?
Because Im really not hungry all of a sudden and we can order pizza from room service later
Later
after
?
later. After.
12:23 am, Late, late Friday night/early, early Saturday morning, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys
Youre giggling. Why are you giggling?
Im so happy.
I was prepared for crying. In those Lifetime movies the girl is always crying right now.
I could do crying, if you want.
No. I like happy better, I think.
I can cry happy, silly.
But your laugh its like life.
Life?
Yes. When you laugh its like all the good things in life are filling my ears.
Thats
well
silly, but sweet too. Just like you.
You find me silly?
And sweet.
You know how I find you?
How?
Like this
12:55 am, Late, late Friday night/early, early Saturday morning, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys
Wow.
Yeah.
If I could freeze time at just one moment of my life, this would be it.
Youre sweet.
Youre
crying?
Cant help it
I
I
Shhh
4:10 am, Saturday morning, same place
Jessie
I
I know this might be rushing things, but after last night, I cant help it. I love you so much that I cant stand the thought of not waking up beside you. There is nothing I would not give up for you; no one I would not forsake. You are the center of my world. I may have no past, but I know that you are my future. Jessie, will you mar
Mwhuh
?
Oh! Sorry, didnt mean to wake you, darling.
Whuh
were you whispering?
Kind of.
Okay. Going
back to
sleep
I was
dreaming
about
us
I was too, love.
11:10 am, Saturday morning, outside the grand suite
Rosa! No abra la puerta. ¿Ve usted la señal? "
"Pero la madre, cada suite no deben limpiarse diariamente?"
"Tenemos que hacer excepciones a veces. A veces, los adultos no quieren ser molestados".
"Pero no parece muy viejo para mí, mamá."
"Me di cuenta de que también. Pero eso no es mi negocio. A veces la gente no mira la edad que se encuentren."
"Sí, madre."
"Ven, Rosa. Vamos a la siguiente bungalow. Intentaremos de nuevo mañana. Tal vez se habrán agotado para entonces".
11:30 pm, Saturday night, the Life-size Chessboard at the resort
Ill give you until I count to ten to finish me off, and if you cant then Im declaring myself the winner.
No fair!
Cmon, big boy. You can do it.
Cmon, Jessie. Shes heavy! Whatever made the other pieces slide so easy, my queen is missing it.
Doesnt matter. You cant get me in checkmate if you cant move your queen. One.
And Im exhausted!
Tough! You made me push my pieces off the board when you captured them. Two.
Fine then! Mmmf!
The veins are popping on your chest. Hot! Three.
I need help!
Look around, lover. Nobody here but us, and Im not helping you. Four.
Im going to use my telekinesis then.
Nope. Do that, you lose. Remember? We agreed -- no powers. Five.
But that was so you wouldnt see my moves before
Still, the rule was no powers. Six.
Victory is not worth this much ungh! effort.
But I havent told you what you win if you beat me. Seven.
Wait
what do I win?
Remember what we were doing at 12:15 this afternoon? Eight.
You mean the thing where
?
Yes. But reverse that and double it. Nine.
Ggyaaaaargh! CHECKMATE!
Shhh! You win. But be quiet.
Race you back to our suite!
Shhh! No need for that.
Wh-what?
Look around, lover. No one here but us.
Wait
you mean
here? Now?
Mm-hmm.
Yes!
SHHH! Someone will hear you!
Whos going to hear? This is far, far away from any of the bungalo oh no.
"¿Está todo bien? Oí a alguien gritar."
"Sí, mi novio se acaba haciendo el tonto. Nos vamos de nuevo a nuestra suite, ahora."
What did she say, Jessie?
She said game over. Now just shut up and come on.
But wait we were
Duh. Were not now.
Sorry. I just got
I know. You were just being a boy.
Ouch.
You deserved it.
Granted. Forgive me? Let me make it up to you?
Order us a midnight supper and well work something out.
1:10 pm, Sunday afternoon, the private beach area outside a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys
This whole weekend
it just doesnt seem real. It seems like Im dreaming. I dont want to wake up.
It has been wonderful.
I dont want to go back. I dont want to go back to giant robots and alien invasions.
Lets not think about that yet, darling. We still have tonight.
Everythings changed, you know.
I know.
Im sorry. I probably think too much. I shouldnt be worrying about it now.
Its all right. And you cant help but think, Jessie. Id rather have you that way than an air-headed
I just wish I could turn it off sometimes, yknow?
I know.
Im glad we did this.
Me too.
There will be hell to pay if my dad finds out.
I dont care. This was
right.
Do you really think so?
I wouldnt have brought you here if I didnt.
Hey, Clint?
Yeah?
You know that thing I was trying to do the day we decided to do this?
Huh? The telepathy thing?
Not quite
I was trying to tag you so I could sense you anywhere.
Oh. It didnt work, I thought
why are you giggling now?
cause its working now, I think. Im not a hundred percent sure and I wont be until we get back home cause Im not going far enough away to test it until then. But Im pretty sure its working now.
That did it? Really?
Yeah. That did it.
Wow
Want to go snorkeling?
Do you?
Not really.
Then why did you ask?
I
its just that this is the first time Ive seen the sun in like two days.
And the problem with that is
?
I feel
Sensuous? Sexy? Vivacious?
Hehe! All of the above.
And loved?
And loved.
How about we walk to that café up the beach a ways? Stretch our legs a bit.
Sounds like a plan. Are shoes required?
Im not certain clothes are required. But if theres anyone there wearing more than we are, we can pick up a t-shirt at the hotel office.
Yeah. Well, if theres anyone wearing less than we are, well just come back and order room service.
10:15 am, Monday morning, a grand suite in a resort on a small island in the Florida keys
Omigod! Wake up! Wake up! The boat leaves for the mainland in ten minutes!
Wh--?
Clint! Wake up! Weve got to throw our things in our bags and get going!
Oh. Oh yeah
Come on! Get moving!
Im not ready to go.
But weve got to.
Theres a plane that leaves at noon and goes straight to the airport.
Wont that be expensive?
This whole weekend has been expensive. A little more wont hurt, love.
But we can get packed in time to meet the boat if we hurry.
Or
we can stay a little while longer if we dont.
I love you.
I know.
Early Monday evening, on an airliner in the sky near Paragon City
Did you have a pleasant trip, sir?
Oh yes. Very.
Im glad. You might want to wake her up, were approaching the airport.
Thank you, Ms.
Love? Darling? Wake up. Were almost home.
Dont wanna wake up.
Neither do I, love. Neither do I.
((Sticking this here so I can be officially done with it. It's just a short bit involving Ashtongue, aka Isis, apprentice to Mr. Dark, and the Leaden Dove, aka Ellie, his golem receptionist.))
Madame?
Hm?
Isis shifted on the grass, rubbing her bad leg absently. Do you really need to watch me all the time?
Obviously not. Mr. Dark has asked me to keep you alive though, and you sometimes make it difficult. Isis sighed and looked over her shoulder. Ellie stood motionless, looking across the grass toward Aeon University. At least she was dressed for the office this time instead of wearing her full armor. She looked ready for her own funeral, but from a distance she might merely look pale.
Is there a problem?
Isis started, jostling her leg painfully. N-no, Madame. Only
shouldnt you be at the office? To answer the phone? Pale was too weak a word, really
Maybe bloodless?
It will not ring for some time. Ellie turned her head to watch a group of spectral demons further up the hill, only looking back when they disappeared into the trees.
Oh. Isis thought for a moment. She had never asked for a bodyguard, and she suspected Mr. Dark hadnt intended to assign her one. He kept accidentally giving Ellie orders though
What if I told you to go? She looked over her shoulder again, hoping for a nod or some sign of recognition. Ellies expression remained neutral, but her voice was firm.
You do not command me, girl.
Isis mumbled an apology and returned to her work, trying to ignore the golem. After a few minutes she sighed and began to get up, but then sat again and turned to face Ellie.
Madame?
Yes?
Do you know much about talismans? Like this? Isis held up a twisted length of wire and leather decorated with bits of lace.
A little. Ellie paused, looking down at the sad tangle. Have you asked Mr. Dark?
No
I wanted to try on my own, but
Isis trailed off, looking at the talisman in defeat.
Ellie made a sighing sound and held out a hand, mottled armor growing over it. May I? Isis handed over the talisman and watched as Ellie turned it over in her hands. It is meant to reinforce your shields?
Isis nodded. Against ghosts and monsters
that sort of thing.
I see. It is not useless, but weak. Your scope is too small. Ellie straightened the talisman, then pulled out a few silver-white strands of her hair and twisted them around its length, sealing both ends with the same hard, dark substance as her armor. She reexamined the talisman and then offered it to Isis. As she reached for it, Isis could not help noticing deep scores across the armor on Ellies palms. She pulled her hand away quickly.
Is something wrong? Ellie prompted.
Madame, your hands... Is it safe to touch?
It is safe enough for you, Ellie said, still holding out the talisman. Would you take it before it burns through the armor? Isis snatched the talisman and dropped it on the grass beside her. The armor on Ellies hands dissolved into shadow and disappeared.
Madame
Isis prodded the talisman warily. She looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellies palms, but the golem had already folded her hands behind her again. Is it
?
Hm?
Is it dangerous for you? And Monsieurs other golem? Isis flinched at the sudden change in Ellie. The golem remained unmoving, but her usual aloofness was gone. Instead, she stood rigidly as if waiting for a signal to attack.
It is meant for you, not me, and certainly not that stone
thing. Ellie looked down at Isis, her voice still sharp. If you learn to use it, perhaps Mr. Dark will not need to continue creating inferior golems.
Isis stammered an apology and tied the talisman around her wrist, obeying the unspoken command without thought.
((Nice!))
((Season 3, Episode 4!))
The "Serv'd!" theme played over the usual action montage and credits, leading into a scene of the intrepid Small Claims Response Agents, Metahuman Division. Agent Munin and Hephaestus 1 were waiting outside of Mobius Knight's office, taking bets on when he'd show up. They sat on opposite sides of the door, mostly staring at the ceiling or playing video games on their handheld computers.
Heph looked over at his new field partner. "Hey, Em, I'll wager... two doughnuts and a large black coffee on this. He'll be here twenty minutes early."
Agent Munin nodded. "Fine. One multigrain bagel with hazelnut cream cheese and a Red Beast says he's going to be here fifteen minutes early due to the traffic jam in Skyway."
Heph leaned back into the institutional-grade vinyl of the couch and looked up. "Babbage?"
Agent Munin nodded, even though she didn't take her eyes off of her game of Happy Pony Rainbow Squad: The Glitter City Sanction. "Yep. Someone managed to stop the Clockwork King twice today, so apparently this is a double-strength Babbage."
"So Clocky's big critters are powered by his frustration?" Heph asked.
"Yep," Agent Munin said.
Heph checked his internal clock. "If only we could harness his frustration and use it to power something useful, like the city. Paragon City would be safe."
"Yeah, but then we'd be having to run into Terra Volta to save the Clockwork King from being raided by the Sky Raiders, Freakshow and Rikti," Agent Munin said.
"Heh. That sounds vaguely dirty now that I think about it."
Agent Munin looked over at her big blue senior partner. "EW."
The door to Mobius Knight's office opened up and the team's court liaison popped his head out the door. "That was disgusting, Heph. Never say that again."
The two field agents looked at Moby. "How long have you been here?" Heph asked.
"I get in at seven a.m., so I can get the day's docket information and service calls set up. That way you guys can waltz in at eight without a care," Moby grumbled.
"Yes, and that's why you get paid the big bucks, Moby," Heph said. "You could have always declined the job, you know."
"Shut it, Heph. I've got a headache, you're making it worse, and I'm still waiting on my apprentice's homework," Moby said.
"Look, Grouchy Von Grouchenstein," Agent Munin said, "you chose to homeschool her, and you chose to let Heph monitor your progress. Don't snap at him for troubles."
Moby's eyes narrowed. "Grouchy Von Grouchenstein?"
"I kind of like it," Heph said. "It's better than what I was going to call you."
"Get in here," the monochromatic swordsman said to his crew. "I've got your first call for this morning. You'll be heading to Providence Place."
Providence Place was an exclusive neighborhood, if neighborhoods could be described as "mansions with lots of empty land between them." It was also the neighborhood where the mansion of one Justin and Shalice Sinclair, better known to the world as Manticore and Sister Psyche. The grounds were a mess as Heph drove his SUV down the smooth asphalt path of the driveway. Heph's antennae twitched.
"This place smells good. I'm getting faint scents of doughnuts, fried chicken, and... ooh! Bacon!" the big blue cyborg said with childlike glee. "I thought that fabulously wealthy people only ate things like organic twigs and handmade rocks."
Agent Munin's eyebrow raised over the right lens of her dataglasses. "No, but they probably don't deep fry everything. It just smells that way at the moment."
The two heroes stopped in front of the Sinclair Mansion. The hulls of destroyed Rikti drones and Assault Armors lay scattered across the grounds, all apparently covered in a thin film of fryer grease. Heph trudged up the stairs to the door and rang the doorbell.
"These are pretty nice digs," Heph said. "I love how there's a clear view of pretty much everything right to the bay. It reminds me of the lakefront homes in Evanston and Wilmette back home."
"Pretty nice mansions, huh?" Agent Munin asked.
Heph nodded. "This one is about a century or so older, but I think the ones on Lake Michigan have aged far better. I'm biased, though."
After a few minutes, a tuxedo-clad butler opened the door. "Good morning, I'm afraid that Master and Mistress Sinclair are busy at the moment. We seem to have an most unwanted guest in the mansion."
The butler's statement was punctuated by the sight of an empty whiskey bottle being thrown at a younger hero. It shattered on the wall spraying glass everywhere. The butler sighed.
"Ever since Master Sinclair's incident, he's gone... well, rural," the butler said.
"That would explain the Bentley up on blocks near the fountain, then," Agent Munin said.
"It would also explain the need to come here first. I think we'll get service done on both complainant and respondent here, Em," Heph said.
Manticore ran down the hallway in a red flannel shirt and realtree camouflage pants, with a gimme cap from Red Man covering his head. An arrow was already nocked on the bowstring as he searched for the hero was fleeing for his life. He noticed Heph and walked to the door.
"You ain't revenuers are ya?" Manticore said. "'Cause I'm fixin' to string one up once I catch him!"
Heph looked at his partner. "You've already gone through your bowhunting phase, right?"
Agent Munin shook her head. "Honestly, Heph, we archers aren't all like this."
"I know," the cyborg said.
The butler shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid he's been like this since he was a child. Instead of throwing a tantrum when he didn't get his way, he, well..."
"Took on the most outrageous stereotypes of redneck culture?" Heph asked.
"Yes. It's the curse of cultured living, I suppose."
Manticore looked at the two heroes. "What do you want?"
Heph pulled a sheaf of papers from his cargo pocket. "Here. This is your half of the legal summons to small claims court over the ruined bed sheets. We have the other half for Cholestro when we get to his place."
"What? I don't wanna go to no court! You can't make me!" Manticore said.
"Well, if you don't show up, then you really can't sue for damages, can you?" Agent Munin said.
Manticore thought for a moment. "I guess ya can't. I don't wanna go to no court, still."
After a few moments, Sister Psyche walked to the door in a halter top, cutoffs, flip flops and a cigarette hanging from her lips. "Oh, it's the law."
Heph looked over at the butler. "Wait, it happens to her, too?"
The butler nodded. "She tried reading his mind and got sucked into the tantrum herself."
"I see. That's not good."
"I ain't goin' to no court!" Manticore piped up again.
"You ain't takin' my man to court!" Sister Psyche said. "I love him! Don't take him to court!"
Heph just grumbled a little when he noticed Manticore leering at his teammate.
"How you doin', miss?" Manticore said to Agent Munin with a vaguely creepy smile. "Say, that's one of them Matthews 3-X compound bows, ain't it?"
"Uh, no, it's custom-built," Agent Munin said.
Manticore's smiling was stopped by a slap on the back of the head by Sister Psyche. "Oh no, you're not hittin' on no floozy from in town!"
Agent Munin twitched. "Excuse me, did you just call me a floozy?"
"Yeah. I saw what he was thinkin' and you ain't takin' him from me, neither!" Sister Psyche yelled.
"You read minds, huh?" Agent Munin asked.
"Yeah, that's what I do."
"Then read his mind!" Agent Munin said as she pointed a thumb at Hephaestus 1. "I bet you can't."
Sister Psyche narrowed her eyes at Heph. Then her eyes widened as she actually processed what she was reading in her mind. She broke mental contact with Heph and shook her head as if to clear it.
"Oh, that was disgusting-- wait, why am I dressed like this? Pilkington?" Sister Psyche asked the butler. "What am I doing here like this?"
"Oh! How splendid!" the butler said with a smile. "Mistress Sinclair, you've returned to normalcy!"
"But, what caused all of this?" Sister Psyche asked.
A young man in a bright orange and blue costume with a large C on his chest poked his head up from a nearby shrubbery. "I think that I might be of some help."
Heph looked over at the young man. "Wait, are you Cholestro, the Fried-Foods Summoner?"
Cholestro nodded. "Yes. I was patrolling the area when I noticed the first Rikti assault portals open up near this mansion. I put in a call to the other heroes, but I had to slow the Rikti down until reinforcements arrived. So, I summoned my three most powerful foods: fried chicken, batter-dipped bacon and doughnuts.
Heph's mechanical eyebrow shot up. "Did you say batter-dipped bacon?"
"Yes. I use a beer batter for it. It's very powerful against the Rikti."
Heph ran over to Cholestro and hugged him. "I love you. You've managed to make bacon even more wonderful! You're like the King of Bacon now!"
A very disturbed Cholestro slid out from Heph's hug. "Uh, thanks. Anyway, the side effect of all the summoning is the grease. And it seems that some of it drifted in the wind and landed on the bed sheets that had just been hung out to dry in the back yard of the Sinclair mansion."
Sister Psyche nodded. "Manticore demands that the bed sheets must be dried on a clothesline. He says they smell better that way."
"And the grease got on them and he threw a fit?" Heph said.
"I was trying to calm him down with my psychic powers and I guess I got caught up in the insanity."
By this point, Manticore had already walked to the kitchen and started playing Kid Rock's latest hits on the stereo. The butler's face twitched a little.
"He plays this incessantly," the butler said.
"Well, he still needs to show up to court," Heph said as he handed the papers to Sister Psyche and Cholestro. "The hearing date is at the top of the summons." He then turned to Cholestro.
"So, about this beer batter..."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((Season 3, Episode 5!))
Heph's SUV was missing from its regular spot outside the Rhode Island District Courts building in Paragon City as the camera faded in from the opening credits. Inside the courts building, Mobius Knight and Agent Munin were engaging in some kind of baseball-type game where the blonde archer would fire her arrows at a target down the hall and Mobius Knight would attempt to split them lengthwise with his katana. Patrolman Fang had stopped by to deliver some papers and was doing running commentary for the game.
"One ball, one strike, no outs," Fang deadpanned from behind the swordsman's back as Agent Munin readied another arrow. "This game is brought to you by firm of Boredom and Slow Work Day... swing and a miss!"
Mobius Knight looked over at Fang and glared at him. "Don't you have a real job or something?"
The little werewolf looked over at the ersatz batter. "Wait, when did you get a real job?"
Agent Munin snickered at that just enough to botch the release, sending her arrow between Mobius Knight and Fang. Fang ducked as the arrow shattered a nearby water cooler, sending a pair of office gossips scrambling for cover.
"Just a bit outside," Fang said in his best Bob Uecker impression.
"Fang!" Munin yelled. "I'm trying to concentrate here."
"And I really don't want to explain why there's an arrow lodged in my head when I get home tonight, so let's make sure that Em can concentrate and I don't wind up with an arrow lodged in my head," Moby added.
"Sorry, guys," Fang said. "Have you guys heard from Heph lately?"
"He seems to be enjoying the business trip to Canada," Moby said. "I still have no idea why they'd want him to give a lecture. He doesn't even have a bachelor's degree!"
Fang scratched his nose. "They give degrees for comedy?" he asked.
Another arrow sailed past Fang's nose, sending a potted fern to an untimely end.
"Fang!" Munin said. "Shut up or I'll use you for the target."
"Yeesh," Fang said.
The scene cut to a large lecture hall where Hephaestus 1 was addressing the latest troops of RCMP cadets. Projected behind him was a huge Powerpoint banner proclaiming "One-Liners, Psychological Warfare, and Crime Prevention by Individual Officers." The big blue cyborg was wearing what looked like a brand new charcoal grey suit, white dress shirt and a pale blue tie that matched his old Chicago PD uniform shirts. A tiny version of his old Sergeant's badge gleamed on the lapel. He held onto the podium much like an alderman sweating out a press conference. The cadets were full of proper bearing, listening intently. Heph thought for a moment that he might be in a room of Nemesis automatons except for the heartbeats and the few cadets trying to stifle a grin or a snicker here and there.
"That's one of the many roles of humor in the job, really," Heph concluded, "you'll use it most of the time to build morale among fellow officers or to build trust with your fellow citizens, but when wielded with a little skill you can also use it to confuse criminals and and possibly even defuse a dangerous situation. Are there any last questions prior to falling out for the next class?"
One cadet raised his hand and stood up when Heph pointed to him. "I was wondering how this would work for mimes, sir," the cadet said.
Heph's "WTF?" eyebrow deployed to a couple of stifled giggles and a few coughing fits trying to prevent laughter. "Cadet," Heph asked, "Are you trying for extra credit here?"
"Yes, sir," the cadet said, "and I'm also interested if I could use mime as part of my law enforcement career."
"Mime? I wasn't aware there was a great call for mimes in Canada," Heph said.
"Well, sir, I'm from Vancouver. You know how it is," the cadet said as if that explained everything.
"If you consider the amount of physical skill needed to make a great number of subtle movements plus the timing needed to properly describe your action, then yes, you might be able to combine the two for greater effect. Take some initiative and be willing to occasionally go over the head of your audience. If it's a criminal, that might give you enough time to react to nab him with no fuss and no violence. If you can do that without having to fight, you'll ensure that the people whom you protect stay calm and orderly. Those are often mighty big 'ifs' though, so get a little practice in every now and then. Is that clearer, cadet?"
The cadet nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said as he sat down.
Heph looked around for other raised hands. "No other questions? Well, then, my closing remarks."
The big blue cyborg raised his hand to his mouth as if he was clearing his throat, then pulled out an index card from his coat pocket. The cameras he used for eyes whirred as he focused on the card. He looked back to the class, then back down the card.
"Heh. You said 'Regina'."
Even the troop commanders groaned at that one.
Heph put the card back in his pocket. "What, you expected Hillaire Belloc?" He stepped away from the podium. "Thank you for being an attentive class and I hope you've been able to add something new to your law enforcement arsenals."
The troop commanders called the class to attention and had them march out as Heph and a few of the instructors discussed the session.
"Well, Sergeant-Major Keenan," Heph said, "I hope the cadets got something useful out of that. I'm kind of surprised that you'd ask someone without a degree for assistance on this."
"We get help from the First Nations residents on cultural issues, and their leaders aren't always degreed, either," the instructor nodded. "Sometimes you have to ask a carpenter or mason how to build a house instead of asking a civil engineer with a Ph.D. That's why we brought you here."
Heph nodded. "They also seemed to keep their professional bearing, too. Was that also part of the reason for bringing me in?"
"I'd be lying if I said no, Sergeant O'Flannagan," Segeant-Major Keenan said. "We get a kick out of your exploits sometimes, so we thought it might be a good idea to see how well they can maintain proper professional bearing while listening to how you deliver your lecture. I'd also be lying if I said that 'Regina' comment at the end was completely expected. That caught me off-guard."
"You have to ride the edge of good taste sometimes to find humor," Heph said, "but you also have to err on the side of caution. This was not one of those times for me. I wanted to catch them off-guard for just a second."
Heph gathered up his lecture materials in a briefcase and walked out the door along with the instructors. As they were making small talk on the way towards the dining facility, Heph looked up to see a meteor hurtling towards the ground.
"Uh, this looks bad," Heph said nonchalantly.
"Oh my," Sergeant-Major Keenan said.
The meteor flew over the academy and smashed into the ground dozens of kilometers north of their location. Heph looked back at his chaperone. "Well, being a weirdness magnet, I should have expected this. Mind if I accompany your investigators if they should need some metahuman assistance for damage control?"
The old Mountie nodded. "I hope you brought some good working clothes. We might need your help."
Heph ran to the academy's guest quarters as the screen faded to credits.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
It's been a while... but I'm back.
I really do need to make a VirtueVerse for this character, since she's my favorite, but this'll serve for a little background...
--------------
Katherine Madison, R.N., stood in the doorway, watching the colorfully-arrayed youth as she moved through the ward, stopping to spend a little time with each of the patients there. Most would have considered it a heart-warming sight, she thought.
It was just the sort of thing that was the stuff of TV appearances and charity commericals. Over the years she'd worked at this hospital, though, it was an event she'd seen repeated hundreds of times. Some movie star, singer, pro athlete--today it was one of Paragon's "heroes" would come through and make an appearance, looking for a bit of a boost to their public image.
They were so practiced at this sort of thing, she thought, always seeming all concern and good will. Then, once their little visit was done, they disappeared as quickly as they came, seldom giving anything to the hospital and never appearing again.
She turned her critical eye on the "hero" in question. "Skylancer", the registry had called her. She was short for a cape, barely five-foot-two, and very slight of figure. Probably ninety-five pounds tops. She needed to eat more, Katherine thought; as she stood, a strong glare from a street punk might break her.
Even so, she didn't seem afraid of advertising her presence. No, she was quite the flashy one... all dressed in red white and blue, and all of it skintight, with a winged motif on her top and her tights showing a streaked pattern that spoke of energy and blazing speed. Even her white split cape, adorned with a starburst, spoke of someone who accustomed to soaring over the common rabble. No mask; clearly, she wanted people to recognize her.
She wondered how someone who clearly saw the skies as her playground could relate to these children, most of whom were bedridden or otherwise crippled in some way. Still, they responded to her with smiles... smiles she so rarely saw, and her heart softened a bit at the sight. Most of these children had precious little joy in their lives, and if one Paragon's high-flying heroes could give them a little of that, it counted for something.
"Skylancer" stopped at one of the beds, clasping the hand of the boy there, just close enough that Katherine could overhear what she said to him. "Don't give up, okay?" she told him, still with that smile. It was easy for her to say, Katherine thought, scowling again. As with so many of the other children in this section, the boy's condition was degenerative. The doctors didn't want to say it, but she knew from the looks the doctors shared with each other when they left his bedside that it was likely to be terminal.
"I know it's hard being stuck in that bed," the young woman continued, still holding the child's hand between hers. "I *know*. You've got to believe, though. This is Paragon City, miracles happen every day." She winked, and the boy smiled at her. "Trust me on this."
Platitudes from destiny's chosen, Katherine thought darkly.
"She's amazing, isn't she?" a voice spoke from beside her, and she turned to see Dr. Jemison, one of the senior doctors on the staff, standing next to her, holding a thick medical folder in his hand. "Look at the way they light up when she talks to them."
"Oh, yes, it's great," she mumbled, the words not coming out as sarcastically as she felt them. She might not care much for the cape, but she was determined not to let her mood dampen the children's happiness in this moment, short-lived though it might be.
"It's always nice to see someone take the time to visit these kids," Dr. Jemison added, smiling. Then, he spoke up. "Miss Alexander, we're ready for you now."
The hero looked up from her conversation with the boy. "Just give me a moment longer, okay?" she asked, and the doctor nodded.
Katherine blinked. The hero was young, no doubt, but not quite so young as to be a patient at this facility. She stole a glance at the folder in the doctor's hands, one that was overstuffed with papers. It was the sort of file one only found with the most unusual case studies, those where the doctors had tried everything in the desperate search for answers. On the tab of the folder was the label "C. Alexander".
Did the girl have a relative in this hospital? Was that what brought her here? It would explain some things... but Dr. Jemison had spoken as though she was the patient. She frowned, confused, and then the doctor spoke to her again.
"Miss Alexander is here to give some cell samples and let us take some readings for research, you see," he explained. "She always insists on visiting with the kids first, though."
Katherine could not quite suppress the look of surprise. "...but why? That's not really the sort of work we do here, is it?" She looked at the folder in his hands again.
"She was one of our first patients, actually. As a child, she was as sickly as any of the kids we have here now. I wish we could say we had healed her, but she was beyond hope. It... it took a breakthrough--someone else's breakthrough--to save her life; the powers she has now are an accidental byproduct."
Suddenly, Katherine understood. That was *her* file the doctor was holding. The file of a dying girl who'd somehow found a miracle.
"Lots of people wouldn't give it a second thought," Dr. Jemison added. "Especially considering we didn't save her. But not little Celeste. She's determined to try to give something back." He shook his head. "She's always been a special one, though. We should all be proud."
If Katherine were honest with herself, it wasn't pride she was feeling in that moment... but rather shame. She'd been quick to judge, to assume the worst. She could see it, now... the frail look of this young woman, the infectious joy she spread throughout the ward as she passed, the real concern she held for the lives of the children. She should have given the girl the benefit of the doubt, but she'd let herself become too jaded.
The girl stood up from the child's bedside then, and walked over to where they were standing. "All right, I'm ready." Then she turned to Katherine and smiled. "Thank you for taking care of them. I might wear the costume, but you're the hero
here."
The words stung, coming as they did from the girl she'd thought so little of, and yet, she felt something else welling up in her heart as well. Yes, she thought. She did take care of them. And she'd continue to do so. "I should be thanking you," she finally responded after a long pause. "These kids need hope more than anything else."
Skylancer shook her head, still smiling. "No... if I give them hope, you give them something better still. Faith, hope, and love, after all... but the greatest of these is love."
Katherine turned away, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "I... thank you."
"You're welcome," Skylancer--Celeste--responded, then turned back to Dr. Jemison. "All right, lead the way."
The doctor nodded, and the two of them walked off down the hall, talking. Katherine watched them for a long moment, feeling compelled to look on the girl for a little time with more favorable eyes. Then, she turned back to the ward, and the children there. Yes, she would give them love... all the love she had to give. And maybe she could find a little hope there, as well.