Hm. Awesome.
Edit: first post after a black name. Ever.
black name? wha?
Current Main: Thudd. 36 SS/Invul Brute on Justice
50's - Bitter Hatred Bots/FF/Mu MM - Rogue Wyvern Arch/Elec/Elec Blaster - Stonewerk Stone/Stone/Stone Brute - GB Nasty Thugs/Storm/Lev MM
Power and Chaos!
You had a blackname for a while.
(It's kinda long, but bear with me)
Part One: A Dark Beginning
Chapter 1
Jonathan bolted down the dimly lit alley in Kings Row, the hooting, laughing and catcalls of the Skulls bouncing off the brick walls around him. Panting, terrified and out of options, he bashed his way past a thin wooden door and raced through the grimy hallways of a terribly neglected tenement, scrambling in a mad dash for safety.
He almost found it too.
Turning a corner that led to the front door, Jonathan checked over his shoulder and ran straight into a wall for his trouble. At least, it felt like a wall. Until it spoke.
Run, run, little rabbit, a velvety smooth voice crooned. Jonathan looked up and caught eyes with the new arrival, his shock as evident as he lost his footing and fell hard on his rump. The man standing over him advanced just a step, and Jonathan quickly scrabbled backwards until his shoulders found resistance in a wall. The sad, bare flickering fluorescent lights in this hallway played off the newcomers features to make the already menacing figure even more intimidating.
No, please, I didnt mean to Oh God! Jonathan blurted.
Gods got nothing to do with this, said the stranger, as he began pulling on a pair of black leather gloves he pulled from his exquisite oilskin trench coat. Now, I dont know, nor care, about what you did, all I know is that when I get called, it means serious business, and someone is about to die. Do you want to die?
Please, NO! No, I got a wife and kid at home, dont do this, please!
The strangers face seemed to soften for just a second, and he spoke, Whats your name?
J- Jonathan. Jonathan Witwer, listen, I
Good to meet you Jonathan. My name is Jack, the man reached into his coat and continued, I tell you this, so that you can tell the devil who sent you, Jack produced a gleaming chrome pistol from his coat, and leveled it at Jonathans head, sights lined up with the center of his eyes, Goodbye, Mr. Witwer.
No, Jack, please, I no, Jack! Jack!...
JACK!!!
The shout shook Jack Candless out of his daydream, and deposited him violently back into the land of the living. The warehouse supervisor loomed over him as he sit propped against a crate, berating him, his mother and assorted other members if his extended family. Jack saw him yelling, but seriously didnt hear the words. Hed been dealing with it for his whole life. Tall, scrawny, pockmarked with acne, forced into braces at age 23, and saddled with coke-bottle glasses, hed been the subject of derision since grammar school, and it continued to this day. Everyone at the warehouse looked down on him. Sad bunch of inbred hicks. Even the knuckle-dragger with the unibrow thought he was better than Jack. Still, Jack was the only one with the know-how to fix the machines and operate the computers, so they kept him around.
AND IF YOU DONT GET OFF YER [censored] AND DO SOMETHIN IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS, IM TAKIN THIS OUT OF YER PAY!! The supervisor literally spat at him.
Jack rose to his feet muttering, Nothin from nothin equals nothin.
WHAT WAS THAT?!
Nothin, came the reply.
Seemingly satisfied, the supervisor moved on to morally debase yet another co-worker, and Jack pulled a cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. He looked up, to ensure no one could see him, then hit the six button for a speed-dial. He then dropped his cell phone in the trash as he walked off, picking up his sad little cotton trench coat as he slipped out a side door. He began walking along the docks, thinking to himself, as the sounds of sirens approached from the opposite direction. He allowed himself a secret smile.
Goodbye, Mr. Witwer.
The tiny rocket screamed towards the heavens, and burst in a crackling shower of sparks. Below, in the tiny urban backyard, Jack Candless watched the fireworks with a detached interest. Realistically, his mind was elsewhere, even as he lit another bottle rocket and sent it skyward. Was turning in his employers at the warehouse really the right thing to do? Granted, they were shipping Superadine through that warehouse, and that chemical trash was killing people in droves every day. Turning snitch was probably the most heroic thing hed ever done in his sad little life.
That last thought made him chuckle. Heroes. What good were they? They claimed to be protecting the people, but Jack had never once seen a hero in person. Even in a place like Paragon City, a place just lousy with capes. The hero that visited his school when he was a kid turned out to be the janitor in a poorly fitted costume. Hed watch the heroes soar past as high-school bullies beat the living hell out of him, seemingly oblivious to the suffering going on right underneath them. Once, when driving with his roommate in college, a super battle erupted near the gridlocked highway, and a stray blast from a hero obliterated the car they were in. The Ambulance never even had a chance to reach them before his roommate died of his wounds. The hero responsible? Claimed the blast came from the villain he brought down, and he received an award. Just the thought made Jack sick.
But his mind wandered back to his supervisor and the others at the warehouse. They werent necessarily members of the Skulls, but still they deserved it. Screw em! He didnt owe them a damn thing. But, because of the possibility of retribution, he couldnt return to his apartment, and was forced to stay with his mother. 24 years old and staying with his mom. God, he thought, I am a loser.
He lay down on the half-dead grass, and grabbed a handful of the fireworks from cardboard box at his side. Explosives always seemed to make things better. A small explosion was just so pure. No ulterior motives. No backstabbing. No pretenses. Just pure destructive force. Granted, he couldnt get his hands on anything more powerful than M-80s, but it was still therapeutic.
Jackie! his mother called from the kitchen window.
Jack sighed and sat up, Yeah ma?
Do you want something to drink honey?
Sure Mom.
Alright, Ill be right out, oh, by the way, your friends just got here, Ill show them back there, she called.
Jack cocked an eyebrow. What friends? He stood up and brushed off his clothes as his mother appeared at the back door.
Ma, what friends are you- Oh god! Jack stuttered as he saw the three men behind his mother pull on white Skull masks, and one of them raised a fire axe, then buried it in the middle of her back. Jacks mother issued a small shout of alarm, then fell, four glasses of lemonade spilling and scattering in front of her.
The world just seemed to go into slow motion as he watched his mother fall. His feet wouldnt respond to his brains frantic pleading to just get away. All he could do was watch as two of the Skulls stepped over his mother and approached him as the third pulled his axe out of her back, and prepared to finish what he had started.
The lead skull, bedecked in grays and whites and wielding a knife that realistically was more of a sword stalked purposely toward Jack. His lieutenant held a double barreled shotgun aimed squarely at him. The lead skull grinned fiercely at Jack, listening for the sounds of Jacks mothers brutal last moments on earth.
You done bad Jack, you know that, right?
Jack tried to respond, to run away, to do much of anything really, but all he could manage was to stare at his mother and the spreading pool of blood around her as tears welled up and blurred his vision.
Im talking to you! the Skull bellowed, then grabbed Jack by the throat to face him, Aw, whats that, tears? Pathetic. He then shoved Jack to the ground as his lieutenants laughed menacingly.
Jack, his mind reeling, tried to figure out how they had found him here, why he had done what he did in the first place, anything. Right then, he decided, he would lead by example. He would show those heroes what true noble sacrifice was. He stood, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Without responding to the Skulls taunts he rushed at the lead Skull, hoping to catch him off guard. Almost without effort the Skull intercepted Jacks fist, and in one fluid motion, snapped both bones in his forearm, and sunk his knife deep into Jacks side. Jack, more in shock than any real pain, gasped, and staggered back a few steps, gripping at his side with his good arm, then the Skull kicked him squarely in the chest and dropped him to the ground.
That ones got spunk, huh Boss? said one of the thugs.
That he does. That he does indeed. I think we should teach him some humility, dont you?
I like that idea Boss.
Hey, look what I found, called the third, hefting the box of fireworks behind him, These could be kinda fun.
The lead Skull pulled the box closer, and found the two full cases of M-80s at the bottom, then grinned even more fiercely, Oh, I believe they certainly could.
Jack watched this all through increasingly blurred vision, and tried to crawl away, dragging himself with his one good arm. The one with the shotgun stepped in front of him and said, Where do you think youre going? then promptly booted him in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious.
When he woke up, Jack found himself tied to the post that held up the clothesline. He felt cold, and the pain in his arm almost, but not quite, overwhelmed the pain his side. He could vaguely hear the voices of the skulls milling around him, occasionally hed feel a blast of pain as one of them pressed against his arm, or deliberately jam their fingers into the open wound on his side.
He began to drift back into that sweet blissful sleep, when another sudden pain brought him back to wakefulness. The lead skull had him by the throat again, then slapped him across the face.
Wake up, another slap, followed by a more insistent pull at his throat.
Jack finally opened his eyes, peering through a haze of pain and blood, and finally focused on his tormentors. A twisted cord came from his feet, and ran towards the Skulls, he looked down, and found several strings of M-80s wrapped around his legs and abdomen. He then realized what the twisted cord must be.
No, please, dont, he wheezed, he tried to find a reason for the Skulls to spare him. Nothing came. His mother was gone. His life no longer had meaning. He tried to find a reason, but nothing would come to him. He finally just gave up. He dropped his head to his chest in defeat, Just make it quick, please.
The lead Skull hesitated for a second, unsure of what to make of this current situation. Usually, the mundanes fought more than that. He didnt want to be seen as weak by his lieutenants, he gave the signal anyway, and the Skull with the axe lit the fuse as the lead Skull walked away in disgust.
The spark slowly snaked its way up the fuse, and Jack could do naught but watch it. Each inch it burned through brought him closer to death, and he found that he just did not care. The last thing he saw was his mother, laying dead and pitiful in the grass. His last thoughts were, Im sorry.
Then Jack Candless world exploded in a blaze of pain, and then, nothing.
Chapter 2
Jack. Jack, wake up. Wake up. Jack, a feminine voice called through the darkness. The voice carried with it hope, and it sounded like the call of life to Jack, who found himself strangely free of pain, floating aimlessly through a sea of what appeared to be a blue mist, Jack?
Am. Am I dead?
Yes.
Oh, well, since thats cleared up
Amazing, to suffer as you have and still be capable of brevity.
Im just full of surprises. Shouldnt there be some kind of angels singing or something?
Where did you get that kind of notion?
Yes, how silly of me, this must be hell
Quiet Jack, be still. Your time here is not yet finished.
What?
This is what you call quiet? You are not completely dead. Your body is now lying in a hospital, your vital signs have indeed ceased, but you are not dead. You have much work yet to do in your world, and to have things end this way is not fair to your legacy.
Legacy? What are you talking about?
Shh. No more questions Jack. Prepare yourself, this is going to feel strange.
What are you who are you? Whats going on?
You are returning to your world Jack. Youve been given a second chance. Do not waste it.
The mist surrounding Jack began to dissipate, and he found himself becoming less and less weightless, and more like he once was. He tried to focus on where he was, to try and stay in that place, but it began slipping, despite what his efforts to remain there.
Wait, I dont understand, whats going on, who are you?
You can call me Spiriti.
Spiriti, whats happening to me? Whats my legacy?
To be a true hero.
His world faded out around him, and he awoke to pain.
Hero.
The attending nurse looked up quietly, and seemed a bit put off.
Excuse me? she said, to no one in particular. She was greeted to nothing but the beep of monitors and the hiss of a ventilator.
Days later, Jack tried to open his eyes and get rid of the darkness that gripped him, but he found he couldnt. Even with his eyes open he couldnt see anything.
Oh God, he thought, and tried to reach up to his face, only to find that he couldnt. His mind sent the signals to move his limbs, but there was just no response. It would be almost a week before he understood why.
He was now a quadriplegic.
Chapter 3
Oh, come on Jack, you have to eat something, the nurse insisted. She had told him her name, but Jack honestly couldnt remember. He just stubbornly refused to cooperate. He had nothing. He couldnt even have the benefit of death, to stay in that place where hed talked to spirit, or whatever it called itself. His eyes were blasted clean out of his head, the sockets withstanding far too much damage to ever hold a transplant. His right arm ended at the elbow, his left at the shoulder. Both his legs had to be amputated, and his internal organs, well, hed overheard a doctor outside his room refer to his insides as steak tartar. Not even knowing what steak tartar was, he knew it didnt sound good. Please Jack, for me, pretty please?
Jack didnt say anything, simply turned his head toward what he assumed to be the window, because every time there was a cooling breeze, it came from that side.
Okay then, fine, be like that, the nurse pouted, Youll get hungry enough eventually to even eat hospital food.
Its not that Jack didnt want to talk to her. In fact, he would love to. The Skulls made sure that didnt happen though, the shrapnel ripped his voice box to shreds, leaving him unable to speak above a ragged, harsh whisper.
This, Jack thought, must be what true hell really is. That very thought was never far from his mind.
One day, Jack hadnt really bothered to keep track since the incident He had a visitor. His original assumption that is was another doctor apparently proved correct. This one, however, was different.
James Candless. Age, 24. Born in Cranston and raised in Paragon City. Father, deceased. Mother, deceased, recently, the doctor said, apparently paging through his chart as he did so, My condolences.
Wow, he can read. Really earned your medical degree there pal, Jack thought.
Actually, Mr. Candless, I earned my degree in a different field.
Jacks head snapped back up, aiming what was left of his face at the source of the voice. He heard a chair scrape across the floor as the new arrival sat down. Are are you a hero? He rasped painfully.
Please, Mr. Candless, relax. No, Im not a hero. I dont even have any powers, Im just very good at reading expressions and body language, even when the body isnt completely intact. But Im not here just to exchange idle pleasantries. You are a very special case Mr. Candless. The injuries you sustained would have easily killed even a hero. Perhaps not Statesman, but certainly his sidekick Psyche or his pet Manticore. You have tapped into something greater than this world James. You have ventured somewhere most mortals never see. Until they die at least. Even then, very few actually come back.
What do you mean? Jack croaked.
Thats enough right now Mr. Candless. I have a proposition for you. My employer can rebuild you. At risk of sounding like a campy television show, he can make you stronger, faster and better than you ever could have been before. The only payment we desire is a bit of field work. I will give you some time to think about it, The sound of a chair scraping the floor again, then footsteps heading toward the door.
Wait! Jack cried, it was the loudest sound hed made since the incident. The footsteps stopped.
Mr. Candless?
What do I have to do?
The footsteps approached the bed again. What do you know of the Rogue Isles, James?
Jack could almost tell where this was going. He swallowed, hard. It felt like fire.
Recluse, he wheezed.
Yes, Mr. Candless. My employer is Lord Recluse, The doctor was speaking barely above a whisper now, We can fix you. Help you. You can finally have the power to fight back against that which has tormented you.
Chapter 4
Three weeks later, or thereabouts, the doctor returned. His name was Dr. James Prescott, and he was a cybernetics expert at Spider City in Grandville. Arachnos didnt disappoint with their efficiency. In the middle of the night, several Wolf Spiders stormed the hospital, waking Jack from a hazy dream about the place where hed spoken to spiriti. He was quickly airlifted to Spider City itself.
The following months are now a blur. A haze of pain, drugs, and painful, invasive surgery. The trauma of modifying nearly his entire body was almost unbearable. During what felt like torture, Jack slipped away again. This time the world he found himself in was not nearly as bright and comforting than the one where hed met spiriti. This world, by contrast, was dark. He found himself floating, yet still feeling quite heavy, burdened by things he couldnt even identify.
You. A rumbling, spine chilling voice boomed across the infinite darkness, You do not belong here. Explain yourself.
Not knowing what to say, Jack simply stared ahead of him. No sense looking around for something hidden in the dark.
He is here on my business, Noir. We discussed this.
Spiriti! Spiriti, is that you? Jack exclaimed, looking around. Off in the distance he thought he could see a faint glow, Wait, I can see again!
One is always whole once more in the afterlife.
Afterlife wait, Im back? I screwed up my chance, didnt I?
Yes. You belong to me now, child.
Noir! Silence. Or must I bring your behavior to the attention of higher powers?
The booming voice did not respond, and Jack, feeling more than a little uncomfortable, chimed in, Look, if this is a bad time
Hush Jack. You are here at my will. We expected your latent abilities to activate while you were in the hospital, yet, they did not. The surgery you are undergoing now will stunt the progression of that power. I have arranged a replacement for you. Noir?
Enjoy this while you can Spiriti. My generosity is not always this great.
I am terrified Noir. Truly. Well and truly.
Jack couldnt see it, but he was fairly certain there was a glare fest, at least in the spiritual sense, raging around him.
Fine. Enough of this. Child. Prepare yourself. This is going to be unpleasant.
Suddenly, the inky blackness solidified all around Jack, tendrils gripping, choking, tangling. Cold darkness stabbed through his empty eyes, his wounds and scars rippled with the power of the abyss. Pain rocketed back into his body, his consciousness. He opened his eyes, and he saw.
The first thing that he truly recognized was the beep and hiss of medical equipment, a sound hed become all too accustomed to in the last few months.
He was sore. He reached up to rub his forehead, and was surprised. He expected, deep down that thered be no response, just like there had been none for the last several months. This time, there was a light hiss, and a whirring sound, and then, finally, contact. His hand on his face felt cold and unyielding.
He stopped, pulled his hand away with another small hydraulic hiss. He opened his eyes, and what he saw was perhaps the most amazing thing hed seen in his short 24 years of life. It was just a fluorescent light hanging in a sad metal sheath, but to Jack, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
He turned his head, and looked around the room. He was alone. He looked toward a long mirror on the opposite wall. From his angle, he couldnt see his own reflection, however, his vision modified itself, revealing a body heat outline. What looked like a targeting reticule manifested on his vision, giving him a readout on body mass, height, weight, potential power level, as well as what the figure might be. This time it said Scientist. The lettering was grey, but Jack didnt know why. The figure moved, reached for something on a desk. He heard a mumbling sound, he tried to focus on it, and found the sound replaying itself in his ear once more. This time amplified, distortions filtered out. Dr Prescott, the patient is awake.
An affirmative response followed, but Jack didnt pay attention to it. He sat up, slowly and painfully, and looked at himself in the obviously one way mirror. His chest was a maze of scars and bruises, his left shoulder was red and raw, worse around the area that the cybernetics attached itself to. His right arm was snaked with cabling and wires. What truly grabbed his attention was his face. It was almost perfect. No scars, no cuts. In fact, it was too perfect. It wasnt his own anymore. What stood out though, were his eyes. Cold, black, with pinpoints of sickly green where the pupils should be.
Welcome back James. Or, perhaps I should say, Happy Birthday. Dr. Prescott chimed in. He had appeared at the door. Jack turned to face him. Prescott stood roughly 6 feet tall, head completely bald, wether he shaved it or it just fell out was lost on Jack. He wore a blue dress shirt and a black tie. Over this he wore a white lab coat.
My face, what did my face
We had to replace it. Much too damaged. You are now in possession of a Titanium laced skull. Very expensive piece of equipment. Your arms are are Titan class mark VI cybernetics. The design stolen from Sentinel himself. Same thing with your legs.
Jack looked down, and whipped off the white sheet covering his legs. Indeed they were gleaming chrome and steel, a wonder of modern technology.
You, however, vary significantly from Sentinels cybernetics. These have been modified with stolen Rikti technology. You, my child, are quite unique. Come now, time to get you acquainted with the new you.
Current Main: Thudd. 36 SS/Invul Brute on Justice
50's - Bitter Hatred Bots/FF/Mu MM - Rogue Wyvern Arch/Elec/Elec Blaster - Stonewerk Stone/Stone/Stone Brute - GB Nasty Thugs/Storm/Lev MM
Power and Chaos!