I like this very much.
Continue please.
It's funny, yet I can see how other directions may come from this. Cool begining!
#69397 Get Grog a Drink!
#155312 No Good Deed Goes Unrewarded
#229565 Take Back the Park! (lowbie friendly)
Praetor of the [url="http://www.forgottenlegion.net"]Forgotten Legion[/url] SG and mod for the HUB player community. All hail the mighty Grog!
It's the little things that matter the most in life. 
((This is my first foray into a CoH story like this. I have written before, though not in this area. I suppose this story is an easier way to introduce Soulbourne than any longwinded origion. Any feedback, comments, or critiques would be warmly welcomed...Uhh, that said I apologize if there actually is a Captain Olympiad...Michael Phelps was on the TV when I chose that name))
A siren rang out, a loud and piercing echo off the steel and mortar tenements of Kings Row. The early evening sun hung lazily, just above the crumbling skyline of the neighborhood. Windows caught the final rays of light and warped and distorted them until they seemed a new form life by the time they hit the dirty sidewalk in front of Soulbourne. He turned, looking towards the source of the siren.
Clearly, someone was in trouble. The hero felt his feet lift off the sidewalk, in that strange way in which he defied gravity. Three police cars, sirens screaming and lights dancing across the walls and pavement and cars in front of them zipped past. With a thought, the hero was following behind them.
Finally, he thought to himself, a lead. A chance to do some good, he quickly added with a tinge of guilt. Truthfully, he did want to do good; but he also wanted to increase his hero stipend from the city. Fifty-bucks and a pack of food stamps every week was, quite frankly, not going to cut it no matter how thin he sliced that pie. At least, he consoled himself; he hadnt had to venture into the sewers for quite a while. Dry-cleaning was bad enough, but the cleaners tended to ask questions when you brought in full-body spandex suits. That meant either giving up the whole secret-identity thing or thinking of a good excuse. And all the good excuses were far too kinky to be shared with Mrs. Kim, his drycleaner.
The hero sighed and looked at the windows of the buildings wistfully as he flew by them. The section 8 flats of the Row slowly gave way to the more modern buildings of the rest of the city. They slowly climbed up ahead of him, growing larger and largerthe foothills of Steel Canyon. As he passed a row of townhomes, the hero wondered who lived there. What sort of lives did they have?
The dreaming hero never saw the tree branch ahead of him.
Soulbournes world exploded with green leaves, brown, stinging branches, and a very surprised robin. As he broke past the branch, bleeding from a few scrapes the healer looked down to survey the entire damage.
Oh, hell! He tugged the tight costume off of his chest. Several twigs had managed to tear tiny tic-tac-toe lines across his body. I guess Im sewing again tonight instead of going out. Fun.
He hovered for a moment, long enough to let a sigh escape into the air before speeding after the siren again. This had better pay off, he thought to himself, I could sure use it. He zigged and zagged down lanes and boulevards until at last he saw thick black smoke rising from somewhere in the buildings behind him.
He felt his heart begin to race as a nervous energy surge throughout his body. At last he could finally do something good...and maybe get a few endorsement deals or something to pay the rent. He started gaining altitude, trying to pinpoint the building that was on fire. Ahead of him, a large redbrick apartment building smoldered wickedly, belching smoke into the sky through its top three floors. It looked like some strange chimney, diving into the heart the world itself. The ladders werent going to reach. If anyone was still in the building at those floors then they needed a hero.
Soulbourne gritted his teeth and flew as fast as he could towards the building. He paused halfway across the street from the building. At this distance he could see the orange flames licking the windowsills hungrily. He gulped once and prepared to head in.
Hey, you! Someone shouted from the ground, Stop!
Soulbourne hesitated for a moment; which proved to be his undoing. A gold uniform with long silver stripes and small bronze stars suddenly blocked his way. The hero smiled at Soulbourne, Sorry, but wheres your pass?
My what? Soul said, shock creeping into his voice. There could very well be people dying in there.
Your team pass for this fire.
I havent got one, now if youll excuse me, I have people to save! Soulbourne hovered to left, intending to go around the man, but the other hero just followed him.
Listen, buddy
Soulbourne.
Right, Soulworn, were full up. Weve already got this.
Its Soulbourne, and I can still see flames, Captain Perception.
Thats Captain Olympiad, Soulworn. And we dont need your help. Im sure theres some skulls you can arrest in Perez Park. Youre dressed for it.
Soul opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. He looked down at his torn outfit.
Dont feel bad. Listen, Ive got something for you, Captain Olympiad continued.
I dont want but the hero was gone. In his place a glossy picture of the Captain smiling in front of an American flag with his signature in the corner hovered in place.
Soulbourne crumpled it up and tossed it towards the flames, only to see them snuff out as a woman in a far too revealing outfit and much too tall stiletto heels ran by. Soulbourne sighed and sank to the street below. The police cars blocked off either side of the street in front of the building as the cops ushered traffic through a detour.
A new siren joined the pandemonium of scared renters, gathered neighbors, and what Soulbourne now saw was a full-fledged supergroup containing the flames. The wail grew louder until an ambulance rounded the corner. A svelte woman with green, glowing hair landed on the concrete next to Soulbourne, three people slung over either shoulder. She stood gracefully, and seemed to be as bothered by her load as a fish whos gotten wet.
These six all need medical attention, so she stopped, mid-sentence when she realized who she was talking to. Oh. Youre the kid Olympian was talkin about. Wheres Frank?
Whos Frank?
She shook her head. Hes our healer. Never mind. She leapt and met the ambulance as it backed into the space around her. Soulbourne was on her heels stopping at the ambulance.
Hey, I can heal! Soulbourne pulled open the back door of the ambulance. Six heroes and two very bored paramedics looked down at him.
This ones ours, kid, a gnarled old woman with a glowing amulet said, putting her hand over the injured. Go getcher own ambulance.
Soulbourne sighed and tried to keep his chin up. He gazed at the gutted building above him. The flames were out and heroes circled the upper floors like angry hornets around a nest. The hero sighed again and looked down at the ground.
Over the din of heroes working, a soft sound carried to Soulbournes ears. It sounded like a baby crying. He bounded across the way until he found the source of the sounda frightened tortoiseshell kitten caught up in a tree. Soulbourne sighed and began to reach up, then thought better of it.
Anyone have dibs on this cat in the tree? he called out.
A few heroes from the building glided down and looked at Soulbourne. At last one of them spoke, Wait, whos stuck in the tree?
Soulbourne pointed to the cat.
The hero laughed, Seriously? As he and his teammate flew away Soulbourne could hear their caustic remarks. Like whats he think we are? Firemen?
The kitten mewled again, eyeing the ground with temerity. Soulbourne lifted off the ground and reached out, plucking the scrawny kitten off the branch like an overripe apple. She pawed at his torn costume, and then sank into his arms purring.
Soulbourne turned around in time to catch Captain Olympian standing in front of the building giving a speech to waiting reporters about the virtues he and his team possessed. Soulbourne sighed and lifted off from the ground with the kitten still purring in his arms. He flew high, perhaps too high, but the kitten seemed happy to content itself with alternating between snoring and purring in his arm. The night air was cold, and he supposed to himself, he was warm against it.
That night, he wasnt on the news. But still, as he flipped through the neon static of the different channels between stitches on his costume, Soulbourne watched the kitten wander around his new apartment. She pawed at his lone houseplant, testing the firmness of the dingy brown soil, then testing the edibility of the plant itself. After a moment she leapt off of the table and casually strolled across the room, rubbing up against the healing heros legs. She was warm and fuzzy, and the thrum of her purr resonated through his skin and to his bones. The vibration carried up his skeleton and out through his brain to somewhere else, somewhere warm and lovely, with the faint scent of paradise lingering in the air.