{Thursday, December 14th, 2006. 0800 Hours}
Richard moved slowly downstairs toward the kitchen. His head hurt. Ignoring the pain, he finished pulling on his jacket and stepped through the door.
Samantha sat at the counter, an amused smile tugging the corner of her mouth. She was shoveling the last mouthful of something into her mouth and he swiftly took in the scene:
Frying pans sizzled on the hob, the kettle was boiling, and a cup next to it gave mute testament to the purpose. He smiled slightly as he watched Sophie bustling about, stirring this, checking that, flicking a hand and turning off one of the hobs without even touching the knob.
Sam rose from her chair, picked up her cup of tea and swished from the room. "Morning, Dicky," she murmured as she passed. He grunted a greeting to her, and she smiled as she left, closing the door behind her.
Sophie finally noticed him, blushed slightly and lowered her eyes. "Sam told me that you like a full English, Richard, so I thought I'd treat you..." Her voice trailed off under his gaze.
He strode over to the counter and examined everything. Bacon nice and crispy, fried bread, baked beans and two eggs - over-easy, just the way he liked them. No sausages, mushrooms or tomatoes. Damn, she'd done her homework.
His face broke into a grin, and she relaxed. He hadn't even noticed she was tense until that moment.
"Sit!" She ordered peremptorily, and he chuckled as he was guided into a chair. Coffee was poured and plonked down in front of him, and he took a tentative sip as she started serving the food. He glanced out of the window at the lawn. A light frost glittered in the morning light. Thank heaven he wasn't going to work today.
When the food was placed in front of him, he attacked it with abandon, and didn't really notice Sophie take up the chair opposite him, rest her chin on her hands, and watch him.
"Did you sleep well, Richard?" She asked, and he nodded around a mouthful of beans.
"Extremely well, my dear." Glancing up at her, he smiled, and was rewarded with a dazzling one in return. "Yourself?"
She stretched her arms out wide, eyes closed, and he couldn't help but watch as she drew in a deep breath. "Like a log, thanks." He shook himself after a moment and reluctantly returned his attention to the delicious food before him.
"Do you have any plans for today?" An innocent enough question to ask her, he supposed.
"I'm going out for a run in minute, then I thought I'd just come back here and tidy up the house a bit. I've been living here for weeks and not once have you asked me for rent, Richard." Her reproving tone cut through him like ice, and he felt a jolt.
Raising an eyebrow he looked at her, sitting there, hands on hips, glaring at him. A smile teased at his lips, and he questioned her as to why she would need to help with the housework when he employed a perfectly good maid.
"And I haven't asked you for any rent, my dear, because you're my friend. It's a pleasure to have you here, and I wouldn't dream of taking a penny from you." She pursed her lips at this response, shrugged and briskly stepped around the table.
"I'm off for that run, anyway." As she moved toward the door, she stepped up to him, leaned down and brushed her lips against his cheek. "See you later."
His cheek burned where she had kissed him, and he reacted without thinking, his arm swinging down in an arc, and his hand connecting sharply with her buttock.
"Yike!" Her yelp of surprise shocked him, until he realised what he'd done, and a look of profound embarrasment stole across his face. He started to apologise, until she grinned at him, rubbing her backside. "I'll get you for that, Richard," she admonished, winking, as she dashed from the room.
He shook his head and returned his attention to breakfast. Damn, but she was becoming more like Sam every single day...
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.
; Techbot_Alpha: Also, what Shadowe said. It seems he is still somewhat wise 
; Bull Throttle: Shadowe was unwise in this instance...; Rock_Powerfist: in this instance Shadowe is wise.; Techbot_Alpha: Shadowe is very wise *nods*; Zortel: *Quotable line about Shadowe being wise goes here.*
Charles sped away from the statue, fuming after his... disagreement... with Alfred. "Damn his selfishness!"
A minute or so later, he arrived at Richard's mansion. Back home. Maybe a few days pleasant company would calm him down. Switching back into casual clothes, he walked through the front door. "Helena, I'm home. I need a while to myself, but I'll be down for supper."
A clear, crisp voice echoed through the hallway, "Yes, Master Charles. Welcome home. I note your face is flushed, your pulse is raised and you're scowling again.... I hope you kept your calm with Master Alfred. If I can arrange anything for you, all you have to do is ask. Your room is as you left it - just a little more organised."
Charles suddenly felt drained. This was meant to be the happiest day he'd had in months. He was HOME. He was back with his friends. The work that had taken him away from all this was over for good. His shoulders drooping slightly, a lopsided smile appeared on his face. "It didn't quite go to plan, Helena. I really didn't manage to keep my cool with Alfred and I ended up shouting at him. It turned into a slanging match and I have a horrible feeling that all that he'll remember of the conversation is the shouting. It wasn't meant to be like that. I think I've done nothing but aggravate the situation. Now, I owe him an apology. So much for a happy home-coming. I'm off to rest, I'll be back down a little later. Maybe you could buzz me if Sam comes home, I need to talk to her."
He walked up the staircase to the first floor. Looking back over his shoulder into the hallway, he grinned slightly for the first time in what feels like years. "Oh and Helena....... thanks."
GIFT, FBSA Training Office, Galaxy City, Friday December 15th 12:30pm
"And that's everything you'll need to do for your physical, Miss Rolando, or do you prefer Fusebox?" Doctor Engles said, folding his notes away into a A4 jacket.
Hannah nodded, rubbing at her arm a little where she had just had some blood samples taken. "Seems pretty easy to me, and Fusebox or Hannah is fine." she said with a smile.
"Very well, Hannah, you have fifteen minutes in the simulation, do what you can to the best of your abilities." The doctor smiled, leading her to the doorway into the simulation chambers. Hannah grinned, sliding her sunglasses down from her forehead. This was going to be a cake walk.
Stepping into the chamber, a replica of a district of Steel Canyon, she rubbed her fingers together, static crackling off her hands as she tapped into her internal abilities.
Five
Simulant bots teleported in, their holoshells activating to resemble random civilians.
Four
Several more sets of simulant bots arrived, their apperance changing to that of the bedragled members of The Lost.
Three
Warning sirens bellowed out as the chamber entered lockdown mode. Hannah's eyes darted around, taking in the situation.
Two
The simulant civilians started to flee and cower in terror. Hannah clenched her fists, her body tingling as she rose off the floor.
One
Another set of warning sirens sounded as the training weapons teleported into the enemies hands, triggering their attack on the section of the model city.
Zero
With a crack of thunder, Hannah sped forward into battle, lightning crackling around her fists as she prepared to lash out.
---------------
"Well Hannah, you passed with flying colours. Your total score was 91%." Doctor Engles said with a smile, congratulating the blue-haired teen. "I'll just get these uploaded into the database, and you'll be fully reinstated as a hero."
Hannan stood up and shook the doctor's hand. "Thanks Doctor, oh, that sign up on the notice board... think I could get an application?" Hannah asked with a smile.
(Takes place 16.12.2006)
Morning after she went away
When he opened his eyes the room was already filled with faint light from the outside. If the morning was this far he had slept way more than he had intended. Andre sat up rubbing the sleep sand from his eyes and let the morning drowsiness settle. Piece by piece the reality made itself known once again.
He looked around the room. There was no one else in there. Oh yes, Nadia had left yesterday morning on her quest of self-discovery and would be away for who knew how long. The separation hadn't gone all that well and for the first time in months Andre was horribly aware of the fact that his future was uncertain.
For months at first he had known for an unalterable fact that Nadia would be there with him. Then she had said she would leave him once they found the other Nadia that she was a copy of. Certainties, even if directly opposite. All this had behind the conscious mind shredded his meager sense of trust and confidence. When Nadia was leaving all his doubts had surfaced with a vengeance and he found out just how thinly he was now stretched.
He wanted certainties, guarantees of the future. A simple promise from the woman who said she loved him and would be with him. A promise she couldn't give. So she just walked and left him with his doubts and terrible feeling of emptiness.
Now the future was unknown territory. No promises. No certainties. Just possibilities and probabilities that shifted as events took place, even unexpected events. Especially unexpected events. Unexpected feelings. He buried his face into his hands and listened.
Clatter of plates. Music, or maybe singing? There was an aroma of freshly made coffee in the air. He got out of the bed and slipped into the civvy clothes. Then he pulled the bedroom door open.
"Good morning.", the woman said smiling happily.
Finally the most recent events from the last night flooded back. "Morning, Melanie.", Andre replied.
Somewhere in the Rogue Isles, 8pm 15th of December 2006
The hallways of the abandoned buildings echoed every sound made by Efranof, as he sat infront of a TV, beer in one hand and a half eaten pizza slice in the other. The shadows in the room, which were created by the light of the television, danced on the walls making strange shapes and odd pictures.
The shadow of Efranof himself never changed, even as he got out of the seat to get another beet, his shadow remained.. He began to fall asleep, when a warped voice came from behind him, whispering "You will return.." and at which point, Efranof fled his current home, with blood stained sword in hand.
He reached a small boat on the coast in Port Oakes, it had a few crates full of weapons which shown something villainous was going on recently, but Efranof stole the boat and headed to Paragon City. He was stopped by Longbow, where he handed over the weapons; "I confiscated them, hence why I am coming strait from the Isles, here's my hero lisence to show I aint a villain.." Ef bellowed out across the waves, trying to make himself seem innocent enough.
He had reached Talos Island, nobody was on the streets accept for the odd Tsoo ninja, trying to get into a building to steal some sort of artifact. As he made his way up the ramp to get on a train to Steel Canyon, a warped voice said from behind his shoulder "You will return you will not resist you will return you will return now.."
Efranof jumped down onto the street and ran, shadows of buildings and cars seemed to follow him through the night to his final destination. He arrived at the entrance to Pocket D, where he entered, and waited out the night, trying to figure out what was going on.. And he did..
I am the Blaster, I have filled the role of Tank, Controller and Defender
Sometimes all at once.
Union EU player! Pip pip, tally ho, top hats and tea etc etc
{December 14th 2006, King's Row}
<Scanning...>
"Threat analysis complete, Master Richard." The small voice in his ear sounded almost smug. He whispered a request for the results and in moments they came pouring through. Negligible threat after negligible threat. They were only robots. A good blast of energy and they'd go down. Maybe two or three for the really big and tough ones. Then the litany reached its conclusion:
"Mistress Kitmarch: Code Alpha-Red Threat. Range: 276 feet. Warning! Engage at severe risk."
A fuzzy figure appeared on his HUD. It was tearing through a large group of Clockwork with abandon.
Grimacing slightly, Richard murmured, "Thanks, Helena," composed himself and stepped out from behind the building.
With light wrapped around himself there was no way she could see him. She might hear him, though, so he took to the air, until he was hovering less than the width of his office from her.
Steeling himself, aware that sooner or later she would lose control and start on living targets, he drew in a deep breath, dropped to the ground and relaxed his control.
The whirling black and purple dervish didn't appear to register him at all, so busy was she with the Clocks. He watched in fascination as her fist drove through the outer casing of one and snapped out an instant later, clutching some gears. At the same instant, so smooth that it looked accidental, her foot crushed the skull of another, and she cackled madly. He shook his head in chagrin, his eyes dropping from the terrifying scene. Then the fist slammed into his jaw. His visor shattered, shards of plastic scraping across his face. He spun completely round and collapsed to one knee, aided by her hand on the protruding shoulder pieces of his battle-suit. Instinctively he threw up a wall of energy between them, and she slammed into it, the shock hurling her back.
As she sprang to her feet he concentrated for a moment and changed costume. Black lycra encased him. One less weapon she could use against him.
"Helena, route all combat information to this suit." He didn't hear the acknowledgement as she leapt at him again, apparently not recognising who he was. She was operating on instinct. Raw animal instinct.
A rock hard fist slammed into his skull, and as he tried to block the follow up, the razors on her boots caught his left arm. He stared in horror as his hand flopped back, and a flare of light ripped out from the wound. No time to heal it. She was moving too fast.
Spinning, he hurled a blinding stream of low powered solid energy bolts in a spiral around himself. One of them was bound to connect, and despite her super-dense biophysical structure it was unlikely that she could stay upright against something that had thrown the Kronos Titan to the ground.
It was hard. He couldn't bring himself to go all out against her. If he did, he risked too much.
He finished the spin on one knee, his left arm hanging limply at his side. He considered it dispassionately. It would only take a small amount of time to repair. Ignoring the pain, he pushed and a powerful blast tore the air between them. It slammed into her like a freight train, but barely slowed her down. A wave of energy flashed from his body, kicking up a huge dust-cloud. In the haze he lost sight of her, and rose.
A pair of booted feet struck him square in the back, sending him sprawling. His left arm caught on a jagged shard of concrete and the hand tore off. Gritting his teeth against the agony, he twisted onto his back and saw her leap through the air towards him, one leg extended, the razors aimed clearly at his throat.
Curling into a ball, he rolled, wrapped light around himself and vanished from view.
Suddenly he felt a hand grip his head and it was pulled down, to meet an onrushing knee. She'd found him. Her instincts were too good. Too animal. He couldn't fight her this way. Before the knee slammed into his face, he let his energy power his right fist and thrust it at her as hard as he could. She flew away from him.
"Damage to body armour. Damage to thoracic cavity and organs. Damage to spinal column. Damage to lungs... Mistress Kitmarch is seriously... Hold! Damage repairing. Cellular regeneration accelerating. Body Armour: Repaired. Thorax: Repaired. Spinal column: Repaired. Lungs: Repaired. Threat undiminished."
"Thanks, Helena." Damn, she healed fast. But he could outfight her. Out-damage her. He could kill her if he... No! Don't think like that, Huntington. You're here to talk to her. Bring her back. This isn't a fight. It's just a very vigorous introduction to a conversation.
He let rip. She healed too quickly for anything less to work. He needed to distract her for long enough. So that she recognised it was him. If she carried on then... Well, he'd probably die.
Bolt after bolt of energy slammed into her body, and still she struggled to rise. There was no sign she saw him as anything other than a threat to eliminate.
He could see her struggles weaken. She was losing. She couldn't hold out much longer against the onslaught. The brilliant light of the power he was hurling blinded him to her location, and he stopped, afraid that he had harmed her.
She was gone.
He hadn't heard the sound of a medi-port activation, so where the hell...?
He saw movement from the corner of his eye, and turned just in time to meed a fist powering against his face. This time there was no helmet to block it. His jaw shattered, and the last thing he saw before the light left him was a shocked face surrounded by purple hair staring in horror...
*****
The news helicopter circled overhead, the camera trained on the scene below. Hundreds of decimated Clockwork lay scattered around, and a lone armoured figure knelt beside the sprawling form of a black-liveried man with one hand.
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.
; Techbot_Alpha: Also, what Shadowe said. It seems he is still somewhat wise ; Bull Throttle: Shadowe was unwise in this instance...; Rock_Powerfist: in this instance Shadowe is wise.; Techbot_Alpha: Shadowe is very wise *nods*; Zortel: *Quotable line about Shadowe being wise goes here.*
{Monday, 18 December, 2006. Approx: 1.30 am}
Richard hung up the phone. Those messages were getting harder and harder to say. Sighing he turned away from his desk, and stopped, startled.
Standing in the doorway to his office was Sophie, tousle-haired, in a dressing gown, bleary eyes squinting against the bright light.
"S-sorry, Richard. I heard voices and came to see who it was. Are you alright?" She sounded confused and more than a little tired - not surprising, since she had left the ski chalet hours earlier, and had probably slept for a short while before he disturbed her.
"I'm sorry, my dear. I was just leaving a message for Kit." His eyes dropped to the floor, and she grimaced slightly. She stepped briskly into the room, stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Would you like a coffee? You looked like you were doing some pretty heavy drinking earlier, and it'll probably help."
He didn't answer, simply wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. She smiled faintly and shuffled slightly closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her, his breath softly blowing against her scalp, and she could feel his heart through the back of his shirt, pounding, getting faster...
She reached up a hand, stroked his head, and pressed herself against him.
She knew that he cared for Kit. Knew that it was hurting him, even if she didn't know the whole story. And she was determined to help him. To be there for him. To...
She felt her eyes closing, and struggled to keep them open, stiffling a yawn.
He noticed. He always noticed.
"You, my dear, should be in bed. Let's get you upstairs." She nodded, a slight grin on her face, took two steps and stumbled.
The grin broadened at his next words. "Oh, dear. You're even worse than last time, my dear. Come on, I'll carry you again." And he lifted her into his arms as if she was no more than a baby.
He strode up the stairs, his gait smooth and restful, and she again felt herself drifting to sleep in his arms.
At her door, he paused. He shifted her in his arms slightly, releasing one hand, and swiftly turned the handle and pushed it open.
Her cheeks flamed red, and she coughed as he stepped through. He paused once more, frowning slightly, before he realised what had happened. When he had shuffled his carrying position outside the door, his hand had accidentally gone inside her dressing gown, and he was currently supporting her with one hand against the lowest part of her body...
She looked up at him, cautiously. She was expecting some flustered activity to resolve the situation. Perhaps a look of indifference. Perhaps...
"Ah, well, my dear. Sorry about this. But can you blame me?" His cheeky smile lit up his face, and she giggled.
"Yes, I can!" She laughed as he carried her across to the bed, and then she jumped at an unexpected squeeze.
He swiftly carried her across the room and pratically dropped her onto the soft bed. She wriggled under the covers, and a sad smile drew itself across her face.
Richard tucked the covers over her, leaned down and kissed her forehead and rose, preparing to leave.
"No, stay." Her whisper sent a shiver through him, and he turned to face her.
"Sophie, I... I..." He was confused. Couldn't get the words out. Didn't know how to respond. Was lost in his own feelings of pain and regret and anger and anguish and he didn't know what she wanted...
"I just need a cuddle, Richard. Please? Just hold me for a while."
As he gazed into those liquid eyes, he melted inside. He couldn't abandon this poor child. Despite his own agonies, he had to be strong. To be supportive. She was tormented at least as much as he right now. And he needed the comfort himself.
"Alright. For a while."
He stepped back to the bed, and settled himself down atop the covers. No sense in confusing matters further. She nodded at that, as if she understood what he was doing and why, before wrapping her arms around him, and waited contentedly as he did the same.
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Richard." With a flick of her wrist, the light switch across the room flicked off, and plunged the room into darkness.
"Goodnight, my dear," he murmured, and lay there, holding her in his arms as she slowly passed into sleep.
He simply stared at the ceiling, his eyes two starlight pinpricks in an otherwise pitch-black room, staring at the ceiling until dawn came.
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.
; Techbot_Alpha: Also, what Shadowe said. It seems he is still somewhat wise ; Bull Throttle: Shadowe was unwise in this instance...; Rock_Powerfist: in this instance Shadowe is wise.; Techbot_Alpha: Shadowe is very wise *nods*; Zortel: *Quotable line about Shadowe being wise goes here.*
Paragon City - Dec 17, evening
After Jack left the chalet Pix sat there for a while, just looking into her drink, thinking. She could feel her thoughts changing. The time she was spending in this other dimension, and the talking, the verbal communication with all these other people. It was dragging her back. It was putting the structure back into her head and she didnt like it.
She left abruptly and went to play on the ski slopes, throwing herself down the steep slopes with wild abandon, running into the blue jets and flying through the air. She could feel her blood racing through her body, her heart pumping furiously as she ran round and round the winter wonderland. It felt good, it felt free, but still lonely. She stopped near a cluster of trees and wandered between them to see if they would be any comfort. She could sense them, sense their thoughts, but they were alien, so far removed from her forest back home, she struggled with the concepts they grew with. The environment here was very strange, the sky, the sun, were all different and the trees had grown with it, but it left them with a different flavour as a result.
Cara! Cara had been there tonight, when she arrived. She had come home with Pix the night before, but had disappeared in the night. Damn thought Pix I should have spoken to her. I should have checked she was okay. She chuckled, Jack had distracted her, then she frowned. She didnt know what was going on between her and Jack. She had never quite lost her human inhibitions even after all this time with the fey and other creatures of the woodland. Had one of her dryad sisters caught him it would have been a different story. She shook her head vigorously to get the thought out. She hadnt caught him. It didnt work like that in the human world. Even if Jack wasnt entirely human, it was still wrong, and she didnt know what the magic would do. It was nice, it sent shivers down her spine, but she was fearful of it. Magic had caused Wynd to die. She had summoned a demon with magic and been killed to prevent the demon killing more. What would the magic do to Pix? She still remembered the pain she felt when Shadow had turned up at the chalet last night. The anger and hatred in the room spilled out into the air around her, it had been stifling. When feelings were so tense she found it difficult to cope.
Suddenly she felt as though she needed to go home. Not to the apartment she had taken Cara to the other night but her real home. She ran out of the winter wonderland dimension and fled through the Pocket D night club, blocking out the music and the people. Where would be best? Perez? Croatoa? They both had forests, but both were also infected. She settled on Perez. It was closer, and a little calmer in places. When she arrived she ran deep into the forest and clambered up into the trees. Nestled in the bough of a large tree she relaxed and let her awareness of the wood expand. The trees here were closer to those at home. They shared the same sky, the same earth. Pix felt her mind returning to them, leaving behind the human structure and going back to being free. She stayed there all night and for most of the morning, in reverie with the forest and the earth, learning it, sensing it, understanding the Paragon not built of concrete.
Leaving at about midday she felt more at peace with herself and ready to manage the Christmas party that had been planned. Right after she had purged some of the Devoured Earth infection and found a new dress to wear to the party.
*************
Union
Pix - "Purple Pixie" Earth/Kinetic controller
"Age is a state of mind"
Lu - Katana / Regen scrapper
{Monday, December 18th, 11.50 pm}
Richard landed outside the main door to the mansion, and grinned. He couldn't keep the silly smile off his face. It had been a fun evening, all in all, though the unpleasantness with Alfred would doubtless have repurcussions at some point. Ah, well.
He remembered the feel of Alfred's throat in his grip, and shuddered. It would have been so easy to crush it. So easy to murder him. And he wouldn't have been the same man, if he had. So he'd held back. Thankfully. He forgot his own strength, sometimes. Being able to ignore the false reports of non-existent muscles was sometimes useful. Other times, dangerous.
He stepped up to the door, and it swung open as he approached. "Welcome home, Master Richard!" Helena's happy tones made him chuckle as he stepped across the threshold into the hall.
The grin dropped from his face in an instant.
Sitting on the broad stairway were Sam and Sophie. Sam had an arm around Sophie's shoulders, and the younger woman had clearly been weeping, though right now she merely looked extraordinarily upset.
He stepped quietly across the intervening space, and knelt on the floor before the pair of them. "Sophie? What's the matter, my dear?" He looked questioningly at Sam, who shrugged and shook her head. No idea. Damn.
Sophie lifted her head and red-rimmed eyes looked back at him. "It's nothing, Richard. I'm... fine." Gesturing to Sam, who rose, Richard sat down on the steps and put his arm around Sophie. She sighed, sadly.
"Come along, my dear. You can tell me. What is it?" She shook her head, seeming close to tears once more.
"Did... did you have a nice evening, Richard?" She asked, hesitantly.
Taken aback by the change of direction, he blinked. "Yes, my dear, it was very nice, thank you." A resigned smile tugged at her mouth.
"I'm glad." Richard snorted. He was no fool. There was something going on here, something he didn't understand. And he needed to figure it out.
Her next question flummoxed him. "Are you and Kit back together? You seemed pretty cozy, earlier." It was clear that his look of surprise and confusion perplexed her. What was she looking to hear? What was the point of all this?
Sam gasped, causing Sophie's head to lift sharply. A questioning look from Sam was met with a curt nod, and Sam nodded in return.
"No, my dear. Kit and I aren't back together. We're just good friends right now."
Perhaps that had been the right thing to say, for she burrowed closer into his embrace. What the heck was going on here? Sam clearly knew, but his sharp order across their bond was met with stoney silence. More confused than ever, he simply held her.
After a minute, she shrugged his arms off and stood. She bent down, kissed him on the cheek and swept up the stairs.
When she was gone, Richard turned to Sam. "Care to explain that?"
Sam looked at him with an expression he remembered all too well from their mother. "You're an idiot, Richard. Go to bed."
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.
; Techbot_Alpha: Also, what Shadowe said. It seems he is still somewhat wise ; Bull Throttle: Shadowe was unwise in this instance...; Rock_Powerfist: in this instance Shadowe is wise.; Techbot_Alpha: Shadowe is very wise *nods*; Zortel: *Quotable line about Shadowe being wise goes here.*
Skyway City: 18:30
Iris teleported around the sky, wondering what to do with herself. She loved both of them, both of them loved her, but she just didnt know which she would rather spend time with. There was Alfred, who had shown her some loving times in the breif period they had been together, she still loved him even after they had broken up. Then there was Cloe, she obviously loved Iris, and she loved her. She had also given Iris some lovely times, just as lovely as Alfred's even.
But these past few days it had become more confusing as her feelings for Alfred had risen again, conflicting with her feelings for Cloe. She wanted to be with both of them, to love both of them as they loved her.
Sighing angrily, Iris teleported around faster and faster, blinking into the middle of surprised groups of Trolls, preaching groups of Lost and busy groups of Clockwork. As her situation spun out of control so did her movements, becoming more and more further apart and random as she spent more and more time in the shadow dimension she used to travel through. After a while it took longer for her to reappear and she eventually didnt come back, I'll just spend a little time here She thought Just collect my thoughts for a while...
And there she stayed, away from it all, as she rested her mind from the storm that assaulted her emotions...
Shydow sat on a very cold bench made of ice, throwing snowballs absentmindedly. He was sure Jack would have liked the news, but he didn't. And that was the end of it. None of Alice's scarily morbid ideas or Caromari's insane experiments. Wynd was going to suffer in oblivion. Shydow sighed in resignation and got up. "Tomorrows a new day..."He murmered, trudging into the snow.
Oniel sat in the medical clinic, awaiting the results of his blood check. Why didn't people trust him? all their bloody folkloric magic... A clang interrupted his chain of thoughts as the doctor stepped back in.
"Well... interesting reports, Mr Onieros" He murmered.
"Oh, really? What does it look like, then?" Oniel said in surprise.
"Well, its really fine. It would fit its designed purpose wonderfully" the doctor replied
"But?" Oniel said, desperate to cut to the chase
"Well, its designed purpose seems to be filling pens and adorning peoples epedermis" The doctor said with a frown.
"What?"Oniel said in surprise.
"Your blood is less like blood, more like, well, red ink! "
Dark Stone's appartment, Tuesday 19th December 23:37
The door clicked as it closed, the yale lock sliding into place as Jane arrived home. Glancing about, the apartment was dark, not that it mattered to Jane. With a soft muttering, she gained a red-tinted vision into the rooms, and slowly made her way bedroomwards.
Checking in, she smiled as she saw her boyfriends form under the covers, curled up slightly on his side. His rugged, some would even say harsh, features looked noticbly softer as he slept. Sighing lightly, Jane took her hat and jacket off, hanging them up on the door.
"Had some crazy stuff to deal with today, babe. I hate nursing homes, so full of old spirits telling you war stories." Jane whispered quietly as she undressed, each article removed revealing more of her soft, light-grey flesh. "Managed to send on those who needed to though, had a huge spirit build up in that area, was begining to seep over so that the norms could feel their presence."
Sitting on the side of the bed, Jane started to chant quietly, drawing her hands up over her body, a red glow spreading and slowly pulsing over her as she released a spell from her fingertips. "Pretty good thing I was able to convert this spell, hey hun? Roll on summer when I won't be minus freezing when I get in..." Jane grumbled, before stretching up, her bones and joints creaking and popping slightly. "Oooohhhh god... this weather makes me feel like an old woman who didn't drink her milk as a girl." she said, tapping her feet together as she waited for the spell to work.
"You're bloody lucky you know? Seeing as I don't even sleep, you should take it as a big compliment that I spend my nights cuddled up to you." she said, grinning slightly as she glanced over at him. "Still, gives me time to think... and feel too..." she said, before pinching herself in the stomach. "Oh no you don't, Jane. Sans the soppy stuff." she said to herself.
With a long stretch and a sigh, the warm red glow around her slowly faded. "Stick a fork in me, I'm done." she joked to herself, before smirking as her mind turned to something else. "Nah... you need your beauty sleep." she said, shaking her head and climbing under the covers. Snuggling closer, she pressed herself against Jared, her lips lightly brushing against his before she settled down, ready to contemplate the night away.
The following headlines appear - first in the New York Times and the Guardian, but soon spreading to other news sources and non-print media...
[ QUOTE ]
New York Times:'Fletched Alliance' Acquires Superweapon
The Guardian: 'Hero group' gains possession of Weapons of Mass Destruction
The Sun: 'Hero' Fletched Alliance in world domination plan shocker!
Financial Times: Stock market boom for producers of laser weaponry
Chinese People's Daily: American Heroes Make Grab for Power
Rodong Sinmun (North Korean National Newspaper: WESTERN DOGS THREATEN ALMIGHTY JUCHE AND ETERNAL PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD KIM IL-SUNG!
BBC News: It has emerged today that the superhero group 'The Fletched Alliance' have acquired destructive superweapons with dubious intent, and that plans may be in effect to acquire more. It is speculated that the intent may be to...
[/ QUOTE ]
It seems that the fire of the free press has been fuelled...
Tuesday 19th of December,
10:00
"And what have you got, at the end of the day
What have you got, to take away
A bottle of whiskey, and a new set of lies
A ring on the finger, and a pain behind the eyes"
Jack sat, looking out over the city, tears running freely down his face as his body was wracked by conflicting emotions. He couldn't imagine it... she was there, stuck, he'd been in what Shydow called the 'Void', he didn't call it that, too fancy, it was just nothingness, it was what Gau passed through between bodies... but to be stuck there... forever... he just couldn't imagine that... for anyone let alone Wynd. He could still remember her... all the little times they had spent together, but he had tried to fade the memories, she was dead, and there was nothing he could do. But now... perhaps there was.
Shydow had told him that since she was in a state of limbo it was still possible to bring her back... normally this would be great, soul-lifting... but... he couldn't do it, the knowledge that Wynd was there, that she could be back, he could hold her again, after everything that had happened...
He remembered the night she died, walking into their appartment, turning the corner and seeing her lying there, dead on the floor, her face a mask of surprise, hands clutched to the single stab wound above her heart... He understand why it had been done, but similar to now, he just couldn't face it.
But he couldn't do it... he couldn't bring her back... first... according to Shydow, they'd need the body... and since she had been buried with the brotherhood, there was no chance of digging her up, and the thought of that was already more than Jack could bear. Suddenly thinking to himself he realised that he could get it... with a vote... but it was still sick, it was wrong, you couldn't go digging up graves like that... even if it was for a good reason.
Even then there were the rules, written down by the first prophets for all to follow and what did one say, 'Don't raise those who are gone'. Everyone died for a reason, everyone must remain dead otherwise that reason would not be fulfilled. Unfortunately his mind argued... it was fine to assume that when it was someone else you were talking about but his mind screamed at him. What if he was supposed to bring her back? Hell, even as a friend, even if it was someone he hardly ever met he would want to bring them back but... it was Wynd.
He sighed, holding his head in his hands as he remembered more, the small shows of affection, her face, her hair, the smell of her in the morning... but then of course what if he did bring her back... what would she think of him, knowing what had happened... she'd probably be angry with him... but could he put up with it? she'd be back, alive, with him again and there, of course, was the final problem... Pix.
He'd been so idiotic. He should have waited, but he hadn't meant to start dating again... he'd just met her and that was pretty much that... and then Car had pushed them together, almost to see what happened, what happened was a hug and a kiss and everything... for the moment... was ok. He just couldn't do that to her... if he brought Wynd back... it would be liked the whole bloody Kit/Rich/Alf thing, he couldn't do that to himself or to her. Memories of last night still running through his mind, at the party, huddled up on the sofa, drinking wine and enjoying her company. Then on the slopes later, that look in her eyes, the way her hair flowed out behind her, he laughed... bloody sentimentalist git. And then at home, holding her in his arms, the warmth of her body, the feel of her lips on his... waking up in the morning with her lying there next to him, still asleep, her features serene.
Bloody hell... what was he thinking... what was he doing? He even realised that if he didn't go through with this he was offending Shy, who, along with Arc, was probably his best friend. He'd gone to *lot* of trouble to get this information and now look... he was too [censored] scared to do anything with it.
Sighing he got up, wiping tears from his eyes as he walked into the shadow of a vent on the roof of the huge building, appearing again from the shadow of a tree outside his flat. Looking around he saw the door to the small house he had bought... and there, standing infront of the door, tentatively knocking, was Pix.
Shrike and XV stumbled out of the bank after the explosion went off.
"God almighty, bit of a tough nut, that was!" Shrike said as his armor began to filter out the smoke.
"Affirmative. We caused a good deal of colateral damage, though" XV replied, examining the robots that were left after the blast and repairing damages to them.
"So whats our haul?" Shrike said tearing his steamy helmet off.
XV shrugged and went back to repairing robots.
"Would be nice if he had a brain" Shrike murmered.
"He does." A voice said from down an alleyway. Shrike could just see a man down there. Short, though.
"And before you think of rushing me, you Are surrounded" the man said. It was only then Shrike noticed several [ithings[/i] surrounding him.
"You want uys for a job or something then?" Shrike called to him.
The short man smiled in the alley.
"As a matter of fact i do. How good are you at grave robbing?"
Akkarin sighed for the fifth time in two minutes. He was waiting to the side of a stage in a brightly lit room, filled with journalists of all shapes and sizes. To his right a slightly balding short man in a grey suit was standing at the podium, introducing him in a lengthy and quite boring manner. Scanning the crowd, Akkarin sighed again. Most of the press were sitting out there, pens on paper or dictations machines pointed in his direction. He recognised many of them from similar occasions.
The announcer finished his piece and moved away, with a small measure of reluctance. Akkarin took a last look around, taking in all the incredible normality of the situation and thinking to himself how much he hated it. He took his place in front of the microphone and straightend his papers.
"Right, let's see....." he spoke into the mic "I'm here today to clear up the alegations aimed at both myself and The Fletched Alliance. First off I would like to make it clear that we have no intention whatsoever to attack any nation, nor make any attempt to control, influence or generaly be mean to. The alegations that the Fletched Alliance have control of weapons of mass destruction, turn to evil and seek world domination come from one Alfred Bester. He released said 'information' too the press, having left the group after a disagreement with myself and several other members. I would like to assure all of you, the Fletched Alliance is dedicated to protecting the citizens of Paragon and the world, as we always have been and that we never have nor ever will condone the use of mass-murder weapons. Thankyou, that is all"
He turned his back on the imdeiate uproar as every reporter in the room tried to make themselves heard. He walked off the side of the stage, straight past his press advisor and his thumbs up. Past all the people and paasages and straight out the back door. Before leaping he muttered one thing.
"Dear god I hate the press"
Excerpt from a BBC News radio interview with Professor Alfred Bester:
[ QUOTE ]
"This 'disagreement' which has been claimed by the vampire Akkarin was, in fact, over the superweapons concerned - I resigned in protest over his refusal to dismantle this weapon of mass destruction. So far, no legitimate and positive reason for possession of weaponry powerful enough to level cities has been presented, and I severely doubt that it ever will be. For what we see here, rather than any laudable effort to protect, is simply an attempt to gain further 'prestige' and seem powerful - if not an actual plan, in future, to make threats. As the membership - nor even the higher echelons - of the Fletched Alliance were not informed of the project until its completion, there was no chance to stop it until it had already been completed.
I ask Akkarin this, and encourage others to ask the same question: If the Fletched Alliance does not condone the use of mass-murder weapons, why have they built one and intended to keep hold of it?
All we have to go on are 'reassurances', with absolutely no concrete proof, that this device will not be used for any... nefarious purpose. Other than Akkarin's already-questionable word (with refusal to submit to scans), there is no evidence whatsoever to suggest that there are any law-abiding and reasonable motives for this weapon. For is it not the case that arming yourself for safety is like having sex to preserve virginity? One does not build a weapon for the purpose of [u]not[u] using it."
[/ QUOTE ]
As Ellie flew from the portal to Pocket D in Kings Row, in the direction of the tram station, she pondered what she'd heard.
Why on earth had Akkarin built such a thing? And the others, ye gods.. WAITING!? Are they mad? When someone you trusted goes and builds a weapon of mass destruction; in secret, and then refuses to dismantle it, the LAST thing you do is wait around and have committee meetings about it!
Well, if the rest of the Fletched people weren't willing to do anything about it, she wasn't going to just hang around and wait idly for it to all hit the fan!
Ellie banked sharply as she neared the tram station, and swopping from the sky, she landed lightly on the platform, entering the waiting train.
And Jess... Telling her to leave it like that. Sorry love, but things like this cannot just be left alone; they need to be dealt with, quickly. No way can Akkarin can't be allowed to control such a weapon; it's little different to Requiem and his damned Riptear device from a few months ago, at least not in potential. Dozens of heroes mobilised for that threat, and she was pretty sure they'd mobilise for THIS threat too. First though, she'll see what Freedom Corps are planning, and volunteer her services. And if they won't do anything, well; there are other means.
@FloatingFatMan
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Samantha Huntington grimaced. Damn. Someone must have blabbed. She couldn't get anywhere near her office - the gates were blocked. By what appeared to be a hundred or so reporters. Glancing up she saw a news 'copter flying overhead. Probably the same damned one that took the pictures of Kit and Richard the other day.
She pulled the car into a spare parking space, opened the door and stepped out, tugging her skirt down.
One of them saw her, and called out, then the whole crowd of them surged toward her.
"Miss Huntington, is there any truth..."
"Samantha! Care to comment on..."
"Can you tell us..."
A dozen questions were shouted at once, and there was no way she could answer them all. Closing her eyes, she concentrated for a moment and let out a sharp mental command for them to be quiet.
The noise stopped instantly. Several of them were wincing in pain. Perhaps she'd been a little too firm. Her jaw clenched. No, she hadn't. She couldn't deal with this with them all screaming at her.
Taking a deep breath, she faced them.
"I have a statement." Instant silence greeted her words, and microphones, tape recorders and video lenses were suddenly aimed her way.
"I am unable to speak for the Fletched Alliance as a whole. My affiliation within the organisation is such that I am not privy to top level decision making. This does not, however, change the fact that I am a member of that group.
"Number one. We have been assured by Akkarin that the Fletched Alliance have no intention of utilising this device against civilians.
"Number two. According to Akkarin, whom, I might add, I have no reason to doubt at this time, he was not made aware of the construction of this device until after it was completed. I wish to point out that the head of the FA's United Kingdom branch showed foresight and restraint by ensuring that the device cannot be utilised without the specific authorisation and presence of three people, two of whom are resident in the United States at this time. So, provided that this state of affairs continues, there is no chance of the device being used.
"Number three. The Fletched Alliance here in the United States have, since the existance of this device was revealed to us, decided that rational debate is the best way to decide on the future use, or even continued existance, of this device. We therefore ask all those who feel strongly about this to note - you are not alone! The membership of the Fletched Alliance are divided on this issue, but are not prepared to take unthinking action that could result in more harm than good. Rest assured that all viewpoints are represented within the existing membership, and we will doubtless arrive at an acceptable decision shortly.
"Thank you for your time. I have no further comments."
She brushed past them, and stormed to her office, where she threw a glossy brochure she had picked up from the FA base earlier into the bin.
She sighed as she reached for her keyboard, mentally preparing the memo she needed to send to Kit.
She grimaced as she thought of the first words on the letter accompanying that brochure.
"Huntington Technologies is happy to offer the Fletched Alliance an exclusive first buy-in to the Pulswave Maser H-23..."
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.
; Techbot_Alpha: Also, what Shadowe said. It seems he is still somewhat wise ; Bull Throttle: Shadowe was unwise in this instance...; Rock_Powerfist: in this instance Shadowe is wise.; Techbot_Alpha: Shadowe is very wise *nods*; Zortel: *Quotable line about Shadowe being wise goes here.*
This is the place for all those short stories about RP characters that aren't full blown and should go in Creative, but that take up more room than a recap and thus probably shouldn't be in the GG or Union Recap threads. Please note, that although I've mentioned two Union RP threads there, this one is open to all servers.
This idea was suggested by Zortel, and since I have a story to go in it, I figured it would be a good time to start it.
The wisdom of Shadowe: Ghostraptor: The Shadowe is wise ...; FFM: Shadowe is no longer wise.