Hyperion Watchmen Journals


Acenra

 

Posted

(ooc: OK! For all you guys part of the Hyperion Watchmen SG - and you know who you are , this here is our IC journal as a group for keeping up to date on the goings on, research, rumers, and the like. Only IC journal-type stuff here please!)


 

Posted

Journal of Arthur Penningworth-Smythe, entry 31664.
It's only been a short while since the assassination. Most people would call it an accident, but accident implies that there is no-one to blame, and I'm damn sure someone is to blame for Hyperion Star's death. That's why our little band formed. To find out. But I digress. Things havn't been too good for me recently. The new powers are amazing, but, I think that Mr Ember is going to get another test subject very soon. I'm not well, and I know, deep down, that it's connected to these powers and my age.
Being a hero again. Fun while it lasted. Not quite the same as in my day. All this accursed Rikti technology for one thing. I've relegated myself to a support role in the team, meaning that I'll deal primarily with base issues while I am still able to do so. Not as mobile as I used to be. And cold. So cold.


 

Posted

26th of Febuary, Monday, 2007, 13:57:13:76

After examining the bodies of the subjects found at verious Vahzilock hideouts and bases, I have managed to confirm the way in which the accident has effected our DNA.

first, it seems that some DNA are altered even after death, as the DNA of a few of the cadavers we managed to obtain a while ago. I also noticed that this alteration is also the key to ressurection, as a few of the deceased test subjects decided to go for a midnight walk.

Second, it seems that the added "features" toward the DNA are attaching themselves to existing parts of DNA, melding with them and causing some trouble for me to find a cure. If I don't find the perfect cure, then the cure could eliminate the existing DNA feature. for some, this could merley mean a lower stamina, for others, this could mean instant death.

The living test subject passed away a short while ago, as they had mannaged to develop psychic abilities and shut off their own mind.

it seems the time limit I have is shorter than i thought...

as I work on this, I am trying to create a super computer so I can work on a cure at a faster rate, but things are not going well as is, and I fear the worst.

however, taking analysis into account, I have mannaged to analyse a possible fate for myself. I have analysed my experience without the gloves before hand and have realised that my body itslef is immune to the flames. The energy itself, however, is trying to force its way out my body, and if I continue to contain it in this way, the gloves may be over loaded, and I could cause a second explosion, but it will take more lives.

Johnathan Samuel Ember.


 

Posted

March 2nd, 12:33AM.

Wow, what a night! What a couple of nights! I'm so pooped! Where to start? Well, got a call from Mr Carter to meet outside the base. He'd found another person affected by the same accident! Ok, I thaught. This could be cool. And it was! She called herself "White Vampire", i think, and she's soooo cool! She's funny and witty and, like, smart too! She's like a big sister to me, or somethin'. Anywho, Johnny had to head out early. Something about all those zombie guys. I gotta check in with his at some point. He's hot! And smart! Umm, where was I? Oh yeah! So, like, we headded into the sewers (yuck!) to stop some guy from stealing corpses. Had to check 'em out. Could have been from the incident. Johnny'll know. After that we went after a group of Skulls. Man, those guys really tick me off! But they got superdine, and it could be handy having test samples of the stuff, so off we went! We SO kicked [censored]! About time those Skulls got a whuppin' if ya'll ask me! Scum.... OOH! Yeah! We saved Atlas Park bank from gettin' robbed! Go us! Bast wasn't too fond of workin' with the cops, but we did it anyway. And my powers have expanded! I can, like, bring people back from the brink of death! Well, maybe not the brink, but close! Uhhh, after that, I grabbed a change of clothes and headded off to Pocket D. I love that place! It rocks soooooo much! And White was there, too! She's got a boyfriend!


 

Posted

Personal Journal of White Vampyr

Life is strange.

It has been just over a year now since the incident at the hospital that gave me my powers, and this strange new life. A year since successful singer Suzi White, pin-up front-girl for the band Gothic Overtones, arrived in a hospital, her heart having stopped beating in the ambulance on the way.

Suzi died in that hospital. I’m not quite sure who I am, but I’m not the same Suzi that was taken to that hospital. I’m the one who was reborn in a flash of shock, seeing for just an instant a medic over her, holding two paddles to her chest. Seeing in that frozen instant, all the details, like a snapshot in my mind.

I can see the look of shock, even horror on the medic’s face. I can see the charred wires that have split their blackened plastic sheathing, which lead from the paddles he holds back to the smoking machine to my side. I can even smell the burning plastic and a sharp scent of ionisation.

Then the world jolts and twists, with a blast, that tears everything across my vision like a drawing in dry sand being blown away by a great gale. Walls collapse and the ceiling falls, yet I am unharmed, seeming impervious, and nothing but a covering of masonry dust and a few flakes of ash seems to touch me.

It could be that the shock affected my perception. Or the terror. But I recall just getting up and rushing out. Fleeing the scene of Suzi’s death. Hoping to escape the madness. Desperate to get away from what I had seen in the eyes of that medic, or the burning of his resuscitation equipment.

I simply ran off to my flat, grabbed my tour bags and purse, and got out. I didn’t want to be where anyone could find me. I used my anonymous account, the one I use for booking hotels or flights when on tour, to rent a small flat on the other side of town, in a run-down area where nobody looks at their neighbours.

I hid.

I hid from the press, from my friends, and from whatever the heck had happened to me. I’d known immediately in that instant of shocked awakening that something was very wrong. Very wrong with me. I’d known because I could see it. I could see a dark swirling inside me even as I’d seen the heat-energy coming from the burned wires, and the life-energy of the medic. Just as I’d seen the electric energy of the lights in the ceiling and the wires in the wall.

I could see energy somehow like the way some mystics are supposed to see auras. I could see, in myself, a force that was almost a polarised opposite of natural energies. A negative energy. Something that had sucked the energy out of the resuscitation machine so fast and hard that it had burned it out.

To cut a long story short, I stayed hidden. I went out only when it was dark enough that I could feel nobody would see me, or at least, wouldn’t think they recognised me. Even then I only went out to late night stores, and only when I had to. I couldn’t face my own reflection in a mirror, scared of what I’d see. I had some weird vampiric power, and was living like a vampire too.

I did strongly consider taking another overdose. Ridding the world of whatever monster I’d become. Of course, considering that was how it had all started, I was terrified it would only make things worse. I honestly felt I was being punished. That I was cursed. Committing the same sin again was only going to make it worse, surely.

Basically, a year passed. I’d had plenty of money in my accounts, and I was living so frugally, had so few shopping needs, that I wasn’t at all worried about cash. Somehow my accounts had never been closed, even though I’m sure I had been reported dead. I heard about the memorial service held for all those who’d died, but I couldn’t go. It just wouldn’t be right to attend the memorial for the dead, when you are one of those departed being remembered.

But then I heard about what happened after. Other survivors who attended had had super-powers. They’d gone on to do something heroic, presumably to honour the super-hero whose death had been a part of the explosion at the hospital. They came into the local news again later, busting up some grave robbery ring.

When reports of the villains they’d arrested mentioned a connection with hospital staff, I knew they were investigating something. Were they looking for me? Was it my transformation that had caused the blast? The death of the hero?

I think the loneliness and terror must have gotten to me because what I did next was insane. I hunted out the rest of the grave-robbery ring to get answers. Perhaps my bravery was due to their sacrilege of the dead, I don’t know, but I was driven, and I hunted through their ranks until I found information on their gathering places and hideouts. Then I hit those hideouts with a vengeance until I found someone who’d had the answers of what the heroes had been after.

Fate threw yet another twist at me when in trying to discover if the group of survivors had registered themselves with hero corps, I was recognised by one of those survivors themselves. I didn’t remember him, but then I’d arrived at that hospital unconscious and with no heart-beat. He recognised me, and told me what they were doing, that most if not all of the survivors seemed to have gained powers of some kind. That something about the hero who’d died had probably caused these changes, and the explosion too.

He wanted me to meet the others, and driven by my need to know about these powers, and the fact that James seemed an honest regular Joe, I agreed to meet them the next night. That brings me to how I met the Hyperion Watchmen, and decided to join them in seeking the cause, and perhaps even a cure, for what had happened to us all.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Private Journal of White Vampyr

…and it just gets stranger.

The last week has been so eventful that each day a dozen life-changing events seem to occur. It started just the night before first joining the Hyperion Watchmen – when heading to the strange Pocket D bar to get some ‘dutch courage’ for the following day.

I felt so nervous going in, but I know clubs well, and there’s no anonymity so thorough as that on a crowded dance floor. Besides, music has always been my best therapy. Getting out on the floor and dancing soon washed away so many of the troubled thoughts that had been too long dominating my days and nights.

Of course, after dancing a while, I found myself gasping for a cool drink. I only realised at that moment how long it had been. I hadn’t been clubbing since before the… incident. The last alcohol I’d drunk was on the night of the incident itself, but that brought back thoughts I didn’t want to face.

I headed up to the bar, for the first time not wondering if I might be recognised. It had been too long, surely. I got myself a drink and noticed the cool fetishwear type outfit one of the women at the bar was in. The guy she was with was huge – a man mountain of a guy. She caught me glancing and came over to mark her territory clearly – alpha female for sure. Her name was Echo Hammer it turned out, and once she realised I wasn’t hankering after her man, Ben, she was pretty nice company.

Until some vile guy in a suit came up that was. She called him Mugon or something like that, but he was slimy. One of those guys with a massive superiority complex they’ll never live up to. I tried hard not to hear the conversation, but the guy was such a braggart he was almost shouting, and it was clear he was some kind of contract hit-man. Worse, he seemed to be in the employ of Echo and her gang or whatever.

I felt there was more than enough darkness in me already – I really didn’t want to get involved with the Underworld as well, so I pretty much backed off. It showed what I’ve always suspected though – that some villains are just people, and likeable people, they simply are able to justify actions that the rest of us would feel sick about. Shame, Echo had been a good enough drinking companion, even if Mugon had been a slimeball.

Turned out for the best though, because that was what made me edge along the bar a bit further and encounter a guy who was going to change my life completely. He was stood there in casual clothes – a bit more of a muscle-man than my tastes had ever run to, but there was something about him. He was calm and casual. Just what I needed.

His name was Britanic, but he prefers being called Brit, and he was such soothing company. That casualness was something I so needed around me in the craziness my life has become. I found myself chatting with him so easily, and even when he seemed to recognise me, it didn’t worry me somehow.

The poor guy was pretty cut up about the way his cover had been blown, and his identity as a super-hero revealed in his ‘normal’ life. Someone had targeted him, and caused harm to innocents and colleagues and the poor guy was blaming himself for it. Heck, that kind of stuff is common to all celebrity. We all attract weirdos who want to do us harm or stalk us. In drawing those parallels for him, letting him see that it is not about us, those things, but about the nature of sick minds. That if the sickoes hadn’t had him to target, they’d have surely targeted someone else, and still done the same damage.

The singer doesn’t cause the stalking, and neither does a hero. Both are simply random excuses used by sick minds to justify the evil they wanted to cause anyway. They are just scapegoats. They are victims as surely as any.

Funnily enough, helping him and sorting his problems eased my own mind too. Bad things can happen to good people. We don’t have to have earned or deserved our misfortunes. It is more about what we do with what happens to us, not about whether what happens is our fault or not. When I left, my spirit felt lighter than it had since a while before the hospital incident.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Although I’d been forced to register as a ‘hero’, on the advice that to use super-powers without registration would contravene much of the protection of the Citizen’s Crime Fighting legislation, I have never considered myself a heroine. I’ve not done much heroic so far. Stopping a few muggings? Any social minded citizen should do what they can there.

In working with the Watchmen, I finally did something that seemed more worthy of the title. I assisted the police with springing a trap on a super-powered villain who was intending to raid the bank in Atlas Park. However, it is still the PPD officers who truly deserve the credit, as it was they who had uncovered the plan and staked out the bank. All I did was confront a villain, power on power, according to the plan of the cops. Give the credit to the fine officers of the PPD, I say.

I returned again to Pocket D after the missions with the Watchmen, and was delighted to see that lovely Brit guy from the night before. Once again, his calm and casual manner was a salve to my soul. He introduced me to a friend that even in this journal I will only call Edward. Edward was hiding a secret, although only barely.

His secret enabled him to answer the question that has frightened me the most. It was the answer I had most dreaded. There is indeed something of the Vampire about me. I cried I’m afraid, making a complete fool of myself, not to mention ruining my eye make-up. But in fact it was better to know. Better by far to confirm the worst than to simply fear and dread it.

I don’t have any blood-lust, and indeed, don’t feel any actual compulsion to use whatever vampiric power I have inside. It could be so much worse. As it is, I am still free to be what I want to be, to do what I choose to do. I still take responsibility for my own actions and choices. If my soul is cursed or whatever, well, suicide would have meant the same anyway – no loss there.

Brit and ‘Edward’ were so wonderful. I really do feel so much better for knowing, and neither of them seemed to regard me as any kind of monster. I feel a lot better equipped to deal with whatever I am or am becoming now. I feel a lot stronger, and prepared to take responsibility, not just mope about my fate. Compared to ‘Edward’, I have it so easy I should be ashamed for my past year.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Private journal of White Vampyr

The rest of the past week has been just as turbulent and life changing as the first few days. Fellow Watchman, High Burn, who I call Burnie, has become like a sister to me, and we often meet up in Pocket D for a dance and a drink. I've promised to take her to some of my favourite designer boutiques too.

I've made a lot of new friends at the club actually. Some like Chilly and Dinah are staff there, but others like Rachel, Raven, Nick, Lee, and Leon, are just other people who like the place. Some are even classed as villains, but I judge by what I find, let the courts or those with evidence worry about the rest.

The biggest changes to my life are certainly those involving Brit. I have to admit that I was flirting with him, but we both were doing that in no serious manner, but simply because flirting is good fun. There wasn't the least intention to get involved. I was nowhere near ready for dealing with that kind of stuff, I thought.

But somewhere in all the chats, and all the soothing of my fears and worries, I found myself realising that I was in love with him. When he asked me out on a date, I was both terrified and thrilled.

We just get on so amazingly well, and we seem to have this empathic bond almost. He sometimes accuses me of being psychic and reading his mind. I think it is simply that we have such similar spirits, but I really don't know what my powers can do yet. I know I'm barely scratching the surface of them so far, so perhaps he's right and I can absorb mental energy too?

Whatever, I'm feeling like a giddy schoolgirl, and despite the wrench of my life, I feel blessed rather than cursed now. I just can't believe how my life has turned around so swiftly. I am incredibly lucky, and determined more than ever to find an equally positive use for these strange powers. How I got them, or what they cost isn't the big issue, compared to choosing how I will use them for good.

I'm looking forward to going out with the Watchmen tomorrow and seeking out other survivors. We thought that other survivors discovering powers may have sought to join one of the gangs to feel kinship. The ones we feel most likely are probably the Outcasts. However, the Lost also seem to be a possibility, and more to the point, they are rumoured to have a lot of access to advanced technology, and some kind of scientifically produced mutation. That could be very similar to whatever device poor Hyperion Star was hit with, and which caused the devastation at the hospital in the first place...


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Private journal of White Vampyr

Thankfully I remembered to get some fresh fiter coffee on my way to the base tonight. Johnny keeps finishing it off with all his late night lab work, and we would have had no coffee for the meeting tonight otherwise.

Marina was the first to arrive. I'd spoken to her on her cell phone earlier to make sure she wasn't in a bar - I'm sure Bastinado would be against anyone drinking before a mission. Was good to chat over fresh coffee before the boys arrived.

Johnny was absent - probably off grabbing more supplies - but he was missed, especially by Marina. I'm worried he's over-working himself. A cracked egg-head won't be any use to us or himself.

Solar Flame was the first to arrive at the base. He's been having a tough time of his immolation powers, and has several times almost burned down his home in his sleep. I think it is leaving him quite tired, as several times he seemed a bit disconnected from activities about him.

Psyte came in next. He's the one I worry most about at the moment. He's having a hard time with his new powers too, and seems to have let it make him self-absorbed. He seems so cold at times, only interested in himself and his own needs and wants. But I understand that I guess, and I do feel he'll come around in time.

The last week or so has shown me how wrong I was to withdraw from others at first. We, all of us, are stronger in company. We need to support one another, and pull together if we are to get through this. Psyte was the one pulling against the group, rather than with it. I hope he can change that in time.

When Bastinado arrived, our meeting began, without Johnny or James. It is amazing how much Bastinado seems to be changing his spots too. When I first met him, it was he that seemed the coldest, and most callous. I'm not sure that he's learned any love for us, but he does seem a lot easier with us, so has at least accepted us as his allies and team, and that's good enough.

He laid out his plans for the evening to investigate the Outcasts and Trolls in the Hollows. Both groups are gangs where others changed by the incident might seek to fit in with other mutants, he felt. I certainly agree it is worth a shot, but we will need to tread carefully.

I still think The Lost are a better bet, since not only can dropouts and mutants hide in their ranks, but rumours also speak of them having access to advanced technology, especially weapons, and some way of causing further mutation. Since homeless people are so often present in hospitals, it just seems the most obvious place to start, to me.

Anyway, Bastinado had a contact already at the Hollows, and we found ourselves again assisting the PPD directly. This time in dealing with the open gang warfare that has broken out in this area.

We came under fire several times just traveling around in the Hollows. Most wounds were minor, but there were a couple of incidents were teammates had to seek medical attention at the nearest hospital.

After breaking up a few open gun-battles between the gangs, we discovered the location of one of the Outcast bases where a sizeable arsenal was being built up. We took the place apart and found some serious weaponry in there, including sniper rifles and automatic rifles. Thank goodness we could sieze at least that consignment before it made its way to the streets.

We made several arrests, and tracked down some of the leaders of the gun trafficing ring, rescuing several police officers along the way who'd been outnumbered and outgunned by the Trolls gang and were in serious trouble.

Our team really did come together well, even Psyte seeming to have discovered that we're sincere about helping one another, especially once Marina risked herself openly to save him from a bad situation.

It was a good day's work, all around. I finally feel we started to justify the title of 'hero' that has been thrust on us. Saving those cops was such a good thing. Of course, I still think that anyone who'd choose to be a cop in this crazy city is the real hero. They know they are often outclassed, yet still bravely do their best - sometimes in situations massively beyond them.

The biggest surprise for me tonight came last. Bastinado decided to make me one of the Lieutenants of our group. I really didn't want that kind of responsibility, but once he assured me the title was mostly nominal, and I'd not be responsible for ordering teammates into danger, I accepted the honor.

It surprised me though, especially given that Bastinado had seemed so opposite in terms of ethics at first. Still, perhaps that voice of question is what he wants - a second opinion that will be genuine.

Marina got promoted to Lieutenant too, and given her bravery tonight, I fully agree with the decision. I do hope she won't be forced into tough situtions by the role though. She's so sweet and, at times still so young.

Ah well, duty calls. As lieutenant, I get to make photocopies of Bastinado's 'field notes' for the evening. Oh joy.

((OOC note for those absent: the levels have reached 9-10 if you want to catch up a bit before the next session))


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

((OOC: Just a note guys - I've copied this section across to the new site))


 

Posted

The Journal of Bastinado, Commander of the Hyperion Watchmen

Prologue

For almost a year I had been investigating the aftermath of the incident at Rivera Medical Centre that ended the lives of many and changed the lives of a few. But the person or persons covering up what really happened on that night had several weeks head start. And even when I thought I was making progress, it seemed as though someone was pulling the strings just out of sight. What I did have was a list of patients and staff who were in the hospital at the time of the incident. Once I had removed the names of the deceased, I was left with a list of 44 people who may have been affected by the incident in a similar way to myself.
The first name on the list was Daniel Asche. He lived in a small apartment in downtown King’s Row. I observed the place for a couple of days. Nobody went it, nobody went out. I decided to take a look inside, and made a chilling discovery. I walked through the apartment, the air was a little stale but nothing out of the ordinary. But when I went into the bedroom, I saw that the bed had collapsed in on itself as if something heavy had crashed down on to it. I moved closer. In the centre of the bed was something roughly the size of a large man. But their were no sounds of breathing, no movement at all. Carefully, I drew back the bed sheets from the shape. Small plumes of dust rose into the moonlight. I laid my hand on the shape - it was cold, lifeless stone. But on closer inspection I could see a hand, rigid like a claw, trying to break free from the rock. From the position of the hand I guessed where a face would be. And seemingly carved into the rock was a face contorted in terror. A quick inspection of photographs in the apartment convinced me that this was Daniel Asche. I search the other rooms but there was nothing of interest other than a “hero” registration form.
From the fire escape, I called the police. Within ten minutes an ambulance arrived. I kept out of sight, but was close enough to see two large men enter the apartment. Another five minutes passed and they left carrying a gurney. There is no way they are able to carry that petrified body I thought, but a trail of crumbling dust suggested they were doing just that.
I followed the ambulance, I knew the streets well enough to keep up even on foot. It turned into the tunnel leading to Independence Port. But it did not come out the other side. I searched every inch of that tunnel and could find no clue to how the disappearing act was pulled off. Needless to say, the next day not one of Paragon City’s morgues had a record of the body of Daniel Asche being brought in.
That night I broke into the offices of the Paragon Times. Avoiding the night news desk, I accessed a computer and began to search for the names of the other 43 people on my list.
Four were reported as missing persons. But more disturbingly Shannon Moon has been found frozen to death on a bench in Atlas Park. Jackson Whyte has disappeared, but the paper ran an interview with a close friend who wanted to remain anonymous that was convinced he has spontaneously combusted. Rex Balantine died of radiation sickness, his illness was blamed on his seven years stint as a stuntman making low budget westerns in Nevada.
I’d thought what happened to me on that night was a gift. That I had been given another chance. But in that darkened room I came to the realisation that any number of the people at the Rivera Hospital that night were living with a possible death sentence.
PPD and Freedom Corps no longer have records of a hero called Hyperion Star, if they ever did. But, the fact that something happened on that night could not be covered up. The official line from the joint PPD, Fire Department and Rivera Medical Centre investigation was that there had been a gas leak, causing mass hallucinations and ultimately an explosion resulting in 17 deaths.
It was about time somebody remembered those 17 men, women and children. I filled out one of those “How are we doing?” cards at the hospital reception, suggested they hold a memorial service. The day before the board met for its monthly meeting, I paid a visit to the centre manager. Showed him the sights from the top of a smokestack in King’s Row until he came round to my way of thinking. Two days later the Paragon Times reported that a memorial service was to be held at Rivera, a year to the day of that “gas explosion”.


@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko

 

Posted

Personal Journal of Psyte

It's been over a year now and as promised by the docs, my eyesight has continued to get worse along with my hearing. I can barely make out different shades of light and am now completely deaf... It's strange though, the more my senses falter and fail the more my mind seems to be adjusting to compensate. I can 'hear' better than ever even though I can't hear a thing! I can see further and more clearly than even when they used to call me Sharps and working lookout for the old gang, but at the same time I can barely tell the difference between night and day! All very strange this 'gift' from Hyperion Star.

I'm hooked up with a band of heroes now. Don't know why. It's not me. Lookout at bank jobs, now that's me! Or it was. That last one went sour; damned Skulls getting involved, messing things up. Getting me and the guys caught. Am trying to keep on the straight and narrow now. Especially after Hyperion Star's death. Dignity. That's what he had. Still trying to save people 'til the end; even a worthless piece of trash like me. Guess that's why I signed up for this hero gig. What a joke.

Hyperion Watchmen... sounds like we're waiting for something. Our own death as it turns out. One of the guys in the group seems to think we're all ticking timebombs. Nice. To tell the truth I wouldn't mind it all being over with, these burns and scars just aren't healing - I can't even show my face in public! I can only imagine how grotesque I am, this suit protects me though, keeps this cooling gel on my skin and everyone's eyes off me. I need to change it though. One of the girls, White Vampyr I think it was, said something the other day...something about me wearing tights. It cut me. Why should I care about what some sideshow freak thinks of what I have to wear? I should have made her think she was in kindergarten again. I'll be able to soon, I'm getting more powerful every day. But the new suit first. I WON'T HAVE PEOPLE LAUGHING AT ME.

Those Outcasts and Trolls the other day, they didn't stand a chance. I can hold them where they stand, just by thinking about it! Put them asleep at a whim! The other Watchmen beat on them while they slept!.. All to easy for our team...

The team - I guess that's how I'm coming to see them now. Guess I need some company sometimes. I don't have to like them though. Maybe I'm tough on them, but they need to see the World as the hell it is, not some fairytale where it all ends happily ever after. Still we're all searching for the cure to this death sentence so why not stick with them for now. I can go it on my own after...maybe a lowlife like me can gain some dignity of my own then.

Thinking about it, we may actually find this cure. Bastinado seems to have a plan although I doubt anyone but him understands it, but we all need a leader right? And it certainly ain't me. The girls, White and High Burn: I dunno about White. She has a strange aura, even with my powers I can only half see her... she's got strength of character though. I dunno, maybe when this hell is over... High Burn - just a kid really, playing at superheroes. She'll get herself killed and of everyone she's the one that deserves it least. Will probably get killed saving me if the other night is anything to go by. Still not sure why she came back for me after the way I've treated her. Still, better to keep my distance than get her hurt.

Time to put fresh gel on now. Over a year and my scars aren't healing... Someone will pay for this. I will MAKE someone pay for this.

If I concentrate hard enough the pain goes away. If I concentrate even more I can shut off my powers.

It leaves me in the pitch black of blindness.

The silence of the deaf.

Where someone like me belongs.

Alone.


 

Posted

9.3.07

Oh man! I'm frakin' walking on air right now! Everything started off slow, but soom built momentum. Two days ago, me and the Watchmen went out on a hunt for any more survivors. It was White, Bast, Flame and Psyte. And Psyte was being, well, nasty. Throwing around his attitude an' stuff. Still, we went out. Ended up risking my neck when a couple of Trolls ambushed him. Why? It's what I do now, I guess. Still, we did good work with the PPD that day. Beat down some Trolls, some Outcasts, and got back some stolen guns. Rescued a few boys in blue, too!

Things moved on from there. Last night, I met this guy. Carl. He's a proper super-hero an' everything! Sure, his costume looked inda... dorky at first, but when he changed? Man! He is *so* freakin' hot! Started joking and playing around. I remember hanging off his arm, and he had, like, no trouble lifting me at all! We cut it short when me an' Suzi left do deal with some baggage i've been lugging around for over a year. We walked into a big Skull hideout. I... I couldn't help myself in there. So much pain came flooding back. I guess.. I almost snapped. I'm glad my sis can take care of herself, cos I think I was concentrating way too much on hurting the Skullz in there...

Went back to Pocket D today. Still feeling good from bustin' up those Skullz, then this wierd guy walks up to me an' tells me I'm all "unballanced" and that I need to "become one with the universal force". I mean, what the hell does that mean? To top it off, they guy looked like he just stepped out of a book or something. So yeah. That trew me off. But then, Carl. Need I say more? That hunk showed up again, and it was as if everything was instantly alright again. No, alright doesn't cover it. Everything was great! And everything just swirled around so fast! Before I knew it, I'd said it. I love him. It's true. I do. No denying it! I feel like I'm dancing on air! Oh, wait, I am!

Going back tomorrow. Gonna ask him out. There's this great little burger joint I know in Fools Gold district. Not the most romantic place in the worl, i know, but it's all i can afford right now...


 

Posted

Prologue:

(A srappy piece of paper crumpled up and stuffed down the spine of Marina's diary)

It's been a year. A freakin' year! Can't believe how fast time has gone. Well, I guess I kinda been keeping myself busy. Done a grand tour of the Green and Yellow lines, trying to get my head straight. Heard writing everything down is supposed to help with that, so here goes.

I was... dating at the time. Prety serious, too. He was a nice enough guy when I was around. Him and his gang. Called themselves the Galaxy Bonebreakers. More common name would be Skullz. I didn't care at the time. I mean, what's better for a street kid like me, than hangin' with a street gang, right? Well, to cut a long story short, it went sour. I was asked to join. Said I wanted time to think. Two days later, some other Skullz jumped me, stole my purse and broke my arm. Where was my boyfriend? Dunno. Not defending me, for sure!

Took another few days for me to pluck up enough courage to go to the Riviera Hospital and get my arm scanned. Told me that it was broken, and that i'd need a cast. Screw that, I thaught! Make me more of a target! Anyway, never got round to getting that cast. Damn hospital blew up.

I ran.

Funny thing. When all hell is breaking loose, and you got that whole gangland mentality going on, first thing that pops into your head is "I'm gettin' outta here before the cops show!"

The next year is kind hazy. I remember reading in the papers that I was dead. Well, not specifically me, but everyone at the hospital, and that a memorial service was being planned. Another funny thing. When you're told you're dead, you start to look at life differently. Figured I hadn't been living enough.

The memorial was just the other day. No big headlines this time.

I'm going back to Galaxy. Still got sume "supplies" stashed away there. Hope no-one recognises me. Dunno hat i'd do.

Oh, and I'm SO gonna kick Marrow's [censored] for not being there that day...


 

Posted

Bulletin sent to all Hyperion Watchmen from Bastinado:

Item 1 – Disciplinary action

Last night’s agenda began with some unfortunate business. Hyperion Watchmen lieutenant White Vampyr has committed acts that have put her in the public eye, consequently putting all Watchmen as well as our mission in jeopardy.
I don’t want to give the petition she has started any more attention than in deserves. Suffice to say, I have regrettably demoted White Vampyr to the rank of Elite Watchmen. The situation will be reviewed in seven days.
However, her actions in our raid on the Outcast leader Frostfire’s hideout and our successful prevention of a bank robbery, terrorist attack and jail break in King’s Row have gone a long way to mitigate her initial transgression.

Item 2 – Defeat of Outcast leader

I wish to commend High Burn, Solar Flare, Annihilator and White Vampyr for their courage in our successful take down of the mutant gang leader Frostfire.
Although our primary motive was to discover if any fellow “victims” of the Rivera incident had sought sanctuary with the Outcasts, his defeat has earned us the respect of those attempting to bring law and order to the Hollows.
As you know, I interrogated Frostfire after we have subdued his gang. I apologise to High Burn if my treatment of him seemed a little rough; but I assure you he suffered nothing more than a terror suspect being held by the US authorities would have to endure.
However, he revealed nothing. I sensed that there is someone or something that he was more afraid of than myself. I did find a note on his person. It read: “Expect company. No survivors”. I leave you to draw your own conclusions and have given the note to Johnny for analysis.
I transported Frostfire to the Zig personally, and I think we can be reassured that he will not be returning to the Hollows for the foreseeable future.

Item 3 – Rescue of Corrine

Last night, we also discovered the source of a strange letter offering to help us in our quest.
Unfortunately, the fortuneteller Corrine had been kidnapped by the cultists that we have seen around the city. Our rescue attempt was successful and Corrine accompanied High Burn and White Vampyr to Pocket D.
One thing to note is that a gang of homeless thugs seemed to be staking out the cave where Corrine was being held. They seemed formidable, particularly the one who appeared to be their leader who was a brutish hulk of a creature.

Item 4 - Tasks

Finally, a reminder that High Burn has been tasked with tracking down AWOL Watchman Moonfrost.
White Vampyr accepted the task of researching the hero Hyperion Star.
Could High Burn or White Vampyr report back on what the forutneteller Corrine had to say.
Can all Watchmen being investigating this homeless gang that we believe are known as The Lost.
Please report back as soon as possible.


@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko

 

Posted

Personal journal of White Vampyr

I knew Bastinado would be angry about me getting myself in the press. I actually got off a lot more lightly than I'd expected, in that he merely demoted me on a trial basis, kind of a suspension. With him, I'd half expected he'd hit me. I wonder if he didn't because I'm a woman, or because I'm one of his team?

At least I'm getting used to masquerading around in this ridiculous new costume. I guess one of the advantages of being a 'super-hero' is that people actually expect you to wear a mask and be disguised. However, spandex is never going to be to my tastes - give me leather, silk and lace any day.

The team is definitely dwindling. Only four of us showed up for such an important mission tonight, despite Bastinado's extensive pre-briefings on how important this mission would be. I hope the missing ones are okay, and not victims of the powers 'imploding' as they apparently have in some cases.

No Psyte tonight. Has he decided he'd be better off alone after all? I thought we'd reached him last time - broken through that distance he tries to keep. If he stays away though, he'll fall back into that brooding - I know, I've been there. Dammit Psyte, help us to help you!

Solar was really the hot-head that Burnie calls him tonight. He kept charging off alone, and got badly hurt a number of times, with only Burnie's growing healing abilities saving him after he got beaten almost lifeless half a dozen times.

I think Bastinado is going to need to rein him in a bit, because as it was, he was off elsewhere, getting into some other fight, on several of the occassions we could have used his strength and power. Still, that's Bast's call. I just follow the objectives and support the team.

My new-found power to manipulate speed has been very useful. I'd sensed even when I first learned to kind of drain speed from foes that there was a way to manipulate those energies for others. Having found the way (though I sure as heck don't understand the science of it all) it proved a big factor in allowing our diminished numbers to act faster and more powerfully than ever.

We really are a force to be reckoned with. I just hope we can keep from being corrupted by these powers. I can see how some people would get to feel they are above the ordinary people, instead of seeing themselves as being especially equipped to serve the community. I will have to keep watching Bastinado, just to be sure he uses our powers well, and for good ends.

I finally had to see Brit tonight. I just couldn't bear not knowing how he was. Got myself an unnotable room in an unnotable hotel, and paid extra for a room with direct access to the fire escape. It means Brit can sneak in to see me, just as easily as I can go in and out unnoticed.

I have to start investigating Hyperion Star. We know almost nothing about this guy, or what nature of man he was, other than that he wore a hero costume, and seems to have brought disaster with him to the hospital that fateful day.

Bastinado seems to honour the guy, but I never even saw him. I need to know exactly what he stood for. I won't feel right about carrying his name about like some banner until I know the banner is for a good cause.

I'm no scientist like Johnny, nor a tactician like Bastinado. I'm not even a successful business leader like James. Lord knows I made a mess of trying to lead anything at all with the disaster I made of Heroes for People. But I'm a girl who has to follow her heart above all else. I need to know in my heart who Hyperion Star was.

In the meantime, I have to be careful. If Bastinado discovers I've given away my medpatch, he'll probably be furious. But I just can't wear it. Not when other people, taking the same risks but without the advantage of powers don't have the same protection. I choose the risks I'm taking. What of those who don't get to choose?


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Personal Journal of Psyte

I hate this.

I hate what I've become.

It finally happened the other morning. I woke up to nothing. No light. No sound. Nothing. I am finally completely deaf and blind. It took me a while to even realise I was awake and even longer to realise I was alive. I think I screamed. It felt like I screamed, but I how can I know? I was pathetic, I just lay there on my couch, curled up in a ball, shaking. My powers had abandoned me it seemed, and I was finally alone...forever.

In a state like that self-pity disguises itself as your friend. It keeps you company. It backs you up in whatever self-depreciating thoughts go through your mind. I remember reaching for the gun like I do most mornings. One bullet in the revolver, that's all that's needed. I stretched my arm out for the coffee table that I knew was beside me. Knocked over the empty bottle of vodka I'd drunk the night before. The night before? What time was it? How long had I been there? No matter now. I found the gun, gripped it firm. Give the cylinder a spin, let Fate decide if I deserve another day...

Raised the gun to my head.

Pulled back the hammer.

With that amount of alcohol in my system my powers were useless. For once I had no idea whether that was going to be my last time...

Pulled the trigger.

SMASH!

The bottle I'd knocked over fell to the floor - clarity for a split second.

My powers rushed back, everything at once. Sensing the very fibres in my suit and the train that rushed past my window. Everything at once. Too much. The 'impact' knocked me to my knees, overwhelmed by the volume of information. I threw up. Taste is still one sense I haven't lost. I passed out.

I don't know how long I lay there, but when I woke the World was a calmer place again. My powers were back, stronger if anything. I could sense everything again, but it was all in the background rather than at the front of my awareness. Easier to manage that way without fear of an overload. It was night time - I could 'see' the electric current running through the digital numbers of my clock. Since my powers manifested I have always been able to sense electricity more keenly than most anything. Except living things of course. I almost hear rather than sense the dogs barking in the yard down the road and that cat was outside in the alleyway again. I remember thinking it looked cold and then thinking it would be warmer in my apartment and then WHOOSH! there it was. Sitting on my couch! I'd 'wished' it into my apartment! My powers are starting to get a little bit extreme now! I'll look after him though, kinda nice to have someone round the place other than me. My place... it needed a tidy; looked like a total of 3 empty vodka bottles on the floor. I don't know long it had taken for me to polish those off. Still, clarity had returned and I wasn't about to complain about that. On with things.

It took me a while, but I got the place clean. It's almost liveable now, me and Buster the cat keeping each other company - an odd couple indeed.

Maybe I don't need those hero jerks as company after all...

Damn it! I forgot the meeting with the others. Think we taking down some gang leader in the hollows... Oh well. if they didn't like me before they sure as hell won't want me around now. I always manage to let people down... myself included. When I think I'm getting straight I manage to remind myself what a low-life I actually am. They could be dead for all I know. Guess I'll be joining them soon enough if they are!

Maybe I'll try to find the others to explain... Who am I kidding? Am I actually going to walk up to them and say "I didn't come to help you out because I was contemplating blowing my head all over my apartment."? I really am a joke. I think you're better off on your own Buster. I'll see what happens. Maybe I'll bump into one of them. Maybe not, who cares? I'm sure they don't. And neither do I. At least I don't think I do.

Think I'll go find some Skulls to tear apart. Tonight they can pay for what's happened to me...


 

Posted

Safehouse: A Bastinado Joint

Part One - The Cells

The 1970 Plymouth Barracuda raged through the streets of King’s Row with the grace of a pitbull on PCP. The streets were as slick as the car’s midnight black paintwork. Behind the wheel, the masked driver reigned in the beast as it growled its presence exiting a sharp bend. On the passenger seat, six family feedbags from Up-N-Away Burger in Galaxy City oozed a warm smell almost like food. Bastinado fired up a smoke, to disguise the stench he told himself, hating the habit he had picked up in prison. He flicked the embers into the night, wanting to leave his memories on the asphalt like the dying embers.

He drove past a gang of Skulls warming themselves around a brazier, and turned the ‘Cuda into a seemingly abandoned yard. He reached into his leather trenchcoat, fished out a garage door opener and pointed it at the large steel door of a decaying warehouse. The rolling door screeched like something long extinct, one beast yielding to allow another to roll into its gaping maw. Bastinado pulled off the Skull mask he had been wearing, exposing the ever-present rough metal plate and tight hood beneath. One day, when the nightmares stopped and he was ready to look at himself again, he would take it off. He stashed the Skull mask next to its Hellion counterpart in the dash and scooped up the grease-sodden bags of fast food.

He walked across the warehouse, instinctively becoming part of the shadows, so that anyone able to bypass the security measures funded by Mr Carter would still find it near impossible to get the drop on him. But the cavernous space was empty. He climbed a set of metal stairs onto a gantry, unlocked a heavy metal door leading to a corridor. He flicked the switch on his left, bathing the corridor in a dirty, yellow light. On the left side of the corridor were a series of metal doors. Prison issue.

Bastinado slid the small hatch in the first door. Inside, every inch of the room was padded rubber. In the middle of the room sat a wild-eyed man in a straight jacket. Jorge Gorman. A petty thief who’d been stealing charity boxes in the Rivera ER on Valentine’s Day last year.

“How long are you going to keep me here, ya masked freak?” he spat.

Bastinado, tossed a Manticore burger and fries into the room.

“You’re not gonna answer me?” shouted Gorman.

“I can only give you the answer I gave you six months ago,” said Bastinado quietly. “And you don’t want to hear that.”

“But I can control it, I know I can. You gotta give me a chance.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” said Bastinado. “The day you decided to use your powers to rob that convenience store, you gave up your chance of any favours from me.”

“I didn’t mean to kill them,” said Gorman, almost convincing this time although Bastinado had heard it dozens of times. “It was the electricity, it just came outta me.”

“And that’s why you stay in your box,” said Bastinado, sliding the hatch shut.

He continued to the next door. This one wasn’t locked.

Inside, a young woman was laid out on a hospital bed. She was ethereally beautiful, deathly still. The only sound was the shallow rise and fall of her breathing and the monotonous beep on the monitor by her bed. Bastinado, brushed some of the lose strands of blonde hair from her forehead with his gloved hand. His heart quickened as her eyes opened wide.

“Make it stop! Make it stop!” she cried. “I don’t want to hear it. So many voices.”

“Relax,” said Bastinado, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m here, try to focus your mind. Shut them out.”

She looked him in the eye. “You killed him. Put the gun to his head. Bang bang. They made you pay. So many years, so much hate.” She screamed. “I’m frightened.”

Bastinado checked her IV and increased the flow of drugs into her system. Her eyes closed and she was quiet again.

“Goodnight, Megan.”

Bastinado knocked on the door of the third room.

“Who is it?” asked a distorted voice from behind the door.

“Were you expecting someone else?” asked Bastinado.

“Ah, dear boy, please enter. I trust you have brought me some supper.”

Bastinado entered the room. “Burgers and fries, some fried chicken, nuggets, salad, spicy wedges, hot apple pie, and a couple of shakes.”

“Is that all? You’ll have me wasting away.”

Bastinado hadn’t thought it possible, but Stanley Splitkin had actually gotten bigger since the previous evening. He was now the size of an adult Africa elephant and his misshaped, raw flesh brushed against two of the walls of the room. When Bastinado had rescued Stanley from the Vahzilok three weeks ago, he had been a heavy-set man in his late 50s. But by the time they reached the safehouse later last night, the Barracuda was tilting to the side under Stanley’s increased weight. A year ago, he was in the final stages of terminal cancer. Whatever happened during the incident had sent the disease into remission, but in the last few weeks his body had swollen by several hundred pounds a day. For the first few weeks, Stanley’s naked flesh would break out in weeping sores as it rubbed against the bare floor of the room. These sores would then disappear as quickly as they appeared. But in recent weeks, Stanley had discovered a new ability. The gargantuan man was hovering several inches of the ground like some grotesque zeppelin.

He inhaled the food. “I apologise for my manners, Mr Bastinado, but my body cries out for food. I am a slave to its cravings.”

“Don’t worry,” replied Bastinado, waiting for the hulk before him to finish dining. Wincing as he crunched the chicken bones to suck out the marrow and snuffled like a pig to devour the last traces of food in the greasy paper bags. “I was hoping to bring someone to see you, Mr Splitkin. A scientist, he may be able to slow down or even reverse this unfortunate regeneration.”

“No, nobody must see me like this!”

“But you can’t live like this forever.”

“Not forever, dear boy.” My heart will not be able to
sustain this body much longer, let me die with what little dignity I have left.”

Bastinado sighed to himself as he considered the logistics of removing several tons of dead blubber from the room. “He’s waiting downstairs. He has been cursed with his own powers, he won’t judge you.”

Bastinado ignored Stanley’s pleas and returned to his car.


@Romanov
Nadja Romanov, Lily Pink, Little Death - The Cadre
Estoque, Bastinado, Spidermonkey, Chic Doyle - The Militia
Miss Teen, Dead Reckoner, Dee Dee Diablo, Kaneko

 

Posted

James Carter

A welthy but scered man, James hid behind his money. The more money he had, the more he could gain, the more power he obtained. His buisness started as a hardwere manufactoring company for home computers.

Hes a loner, never had many friends and the ones he had he didn't keep in contact with once he became a millionare. He is a man that trust's few people, and likes money to much.

Entry 1

I was on a tour of the Rivera Medical Centre, I had chosen to do it at night so there wouldn't be as many people around at that time of night, and well if there were most would be asleep at any rate. As we were entering the buliding I saw them bringing in a girl, she looked unconscious, but when I spoke to one of the medics he told me that she was dead. This place was starting to look less and less like somthing I wanted to expand my buisness into.

I should have turn back then, it would have saved a lot of stress.

Forty five minutes later and I'd seen enough ill people to last me a life time. It was a this point that they rushed a Hero in, he was screeching, not himself but I remeber a loud screeching sound around him. In all the comotion I guess I was forgotten, just left there watching this man struggle for his life.

He didn't last long, all the medics were shouting diffent things to one another, I don't think they even understood what was wrong. He shouted somthing, fire erupted from his chest and covered his body. I don't remember anything after that. It must have been the explosion...

Amazingly I woke up. Six floors up and I could see it all, the coridoor infront of me and that whole side of the building had gave way, I was on the edge of the collapse. I shouted for help, but stopped my self before I even got the word out as the building beneath my feet shook. My voice had changed...at that point I was frightened, more frightened than I have ever been in my life. I wanted to cry out but that wasn't an option. Luckly the fire department has seen me, more likly heard my half shout, and got me down.

It took me nine months to get my voice under control. A further three to stop the new fire incidents that would spontaneously errupt. I had to keep myself away from other people, not that that was hard, I pushed everyone away years ago. I hate pretanding everythings ok to the few people I see during the day.

I saw in the paper there was going to be a memorial service. Went late to pay my respects in my own way, when everyone else would have gone. They wern't though, a bunch of people had discovered they they had manifested "powers" just as I had, they started taking about forming a group and getting to the bottom of what had happened.

For a few short moments I was happy again, people just like me, maybe even friends like I haden't had in years. Then I found out about the deaths, found out we're all ticking time bombs just waiting to explode, freeze or any other mannor of horble things.

I masked my disapoiment over, like the profetional buisnessman I am, hide all feeling. It's gotten better in the time we've been together however. I am starting to warm to these people. I would even say I trust one of them, the other leader, Bastinado. We both got made leaders to keep each other in check and the group focused.

I am writing this now as I finaly feel about ready to do so. Plus this ticking time bomb thing makes me uneasy and if I am going to die, I want a record of whats been going on.

Entry 2

For the past two weeks I have locked myself away. I needed to gain some more control as my powers seem to be growing rapidly. I have been financing the group through Bastinado. I trus him and the group more now, I hear they reacanlly took down a manic calling himself frostfire.

Entry 3

Tonight was incredibal, and yet fearful. We found a laptop inside a Lost hideout and will soon be braking the encription codes on it. I am excited as to what we will find. We also had an encounter with a Mr.Smiles, he is looking for a box?

Two of the group stick out in my mind. Psyte, a horible little man that seems to take plesure in insulting everyone at every opertunity. The second is White Vampyr. I told her I saw her at the hospital the night I was there. Bumping into here on the street like that just seems imposible. She basically told everyone herself she had been looking for us for a while.

((Sorry for the bad spelling and gramer guys.))


 

Posted

Sometimes all the stuff of being passed from contact to contact makes me feel like I'm trying to score a hit or something. Still, it does pay off too.

I get to hear about a guy called Sanjay I should talk to in Skyway. He arranges to meet me outside the rail station. When I get there, he tells me about something I know is going to interest Bastinado.

Seems there's a warehouse in Kings Row with some strange activity we'll be interested in. People keep coming and going, but what's special is that the people going seem bigger and tougher than they were on the way in. For people to report that, it has to be a really noticeable difference.

More curious still, the warehouse seems to be used by a homeless guy nicknamed Unlucky Pete. How does a homeless guy get a warehouse? And if he has a warehouse, why's he homeless?

When I passed my info to Bastinado he was as interested as I'd expected. He may not be about to win medals for charm, but the guy has a sharp mind alright. The situation smelt fishy, and Bastinado wanted us to follow our noses.

As soon as we slipped inside the place, we knew we were onto something. A mob of guards near the doors were the same type of huge mutants that we'd seen patrolling the entrance to the cave of those cult guys last week.

They call themselves 'The Lost', and almost all of them are mutated to some degree. Not just in the physical sense either. They had monstrous guys displaying the same kind of powers as Psyte has. They also had some seriously advanced tech, particularly the weapons they had.

Homeless guys, with a huge warehouse, lots of mutations, and some very very advanced weapons just doesn't make sense. Noone raids bins to eat if they have a million-dollar super-rifle in their possession, surely?

These guys were tough and well armed. Certainly our toughest challenge yet, and we got beaten back a few times. Each time though we all picked ourselves back up, and focused all the harder on taking the place apart to find what we needed. We all felt this was a strong lead. I mean, advanced tech and mutations plus secrecy?

Eventually we'd beaten down all resistance, and taken all of The Lost into custody. We also recovered a pretty expensive laptop. The guys have resolved to strip all the data off it and gather all info possible.

Cassidy came with us tonight and was an absolute star. I think the chance to get into a fight that was in a good cause was great for her. She's a very strong fighter, and very skilled. I was so proud of her.

We all bumped into Carl, (GoodGuy), as we were debriefing by Blue Steel. He offered to help me get info on Hyperion Star. Said he knew a historian in Faultline who was great at uncovering info on heroes that others had forgotten about.

Just as well, because all my initial requests through my contacts at Hero Corps and the PPD came up a blank. No records of Hyperion Star.

We got some terrible news today from Bastinado regarding Johnny's absence. Johnny is presumed dead - his gauntlets were found. I don't know the details, and don't want to know, but however they found those gauntlets made Bastinado certain Johnny was gone.

Marina will probably be devastated, but she's not returned yet from going to look for another missing member of the team. I'll have to phone her and break the news gently. Bastinado would be about as subtle as a brick.

I don't think Bast even noticed that Marina was keen on Johnny. He doesn't seem too interested in personal relationships - either in others or his own.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Private journal of White Vampyr

I feel so guilty about not keeping my journal updated lately, but I've just been so busy. Ironic really that the times when I have the most to write about are when I have the least chance to write at all.

Starting with business events first, I've only been able to find a very few press clippings and news stories about Hyperion Star. Seems he preferred a low profile mostly, and was a bit of a loner at times, although there are a couple of mentions of side-kicks I need to investigate further. At least I found a couple of pictures of him that I can have copied to use as a kind of "do you remember this guy" prompter.

GoodGuy thinks he's found a more definite lead though. He suspects it is all connected to 'dyne smuggling, which with Marina having turned green is I suppose not a bad conclusion.

That doesn't tally with finding those clues on the Lost though. So far as my research so far has found, The Lost have no connections with 'Dyne at all. Still, Carl is far more experienced than I am at this heroing and investigation stuff, so he's probably right.

Still on the topic of the Watchmen, I asked Brit to get his lawyers to look into James Carter's company. There was something I just didn't like about how readily and easily Carter took the idea of dealing with a known criminal. I couldn't help but feel he'd had many such shadey dealings before. From the initial reports from Brit's lawyers, it looks like my suspicion may be justified, as there are some curious records of court proceedings, even though most were dropped or settled long before any actual court appearances.

I hate the idea of not being able to trust the people leading us. Funny that I trust Bastinado more than James. I mean, Bastinado is the most secretive and shadey guy I've met. I'm certain he's some ex CIA spook, and goodness only knows what terrible things he's been prepared to do. But Bastinado has this loyalty you can feel. He's ruthless, sure, but he's one of those types who'll never leave a teammate behind, like in the movies.

Its like shadiness is a part of Bastinado. Carter is different, and I don't trust that difference. He's more like those businessmen who will ruin anything or anyone just for a faster buck. To me, that's somehow a lot worse than a special forces guy who may have done bad things for duty.

Of course, it is all the personal stuff that has been the real cause of my being so busy. First the petition, then the negotiations with the Militia ... I never realised what I was getting myself into.

Now Miss Teen wants me to support her in another great cause, and I can't say no. It's too good a cause. I've seen first hand what a difference can be made to some of these young heroines, and myself, by simply being there when they needed some support.

How I'll ever find the time to organise my bridal shower before Brit and I get married I don't know.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

(29/03/2007 - 8:17 AM)

High Burn's personal journal

This sure has been one crazy week. Not two days of getting back into Paragon City, and I'm getting ambushed by those damn Vaz zombies again! Only, this time, they were much bigger. And I mean, humungeous! Biceps bigger than my head, and all that stuff...

I don't know. Seems like just recently, we've started becoming the hunted and not the hunters anymore. And it's not the little people who are coming after us. I don't know what Bast an the other guys stirred up with the Lost, but one of their big guys with the freaky psychic powers came after me. Managed to beat him down, but he didn't say anything other than all that rhetoric they always spout.

Big embarrassment though. Just as soon as I cleared out of the ambush, I walked straight into another! Vaz again! And I wasn't prepared.

Suffice to say, I staggared into Pocket D a few hours later all black and blue. And met Richard. Not a typical guy, being dead and all, but he's kinda cool. And he gave me a book. I've been studying it for days, and think I'm getting the hang of this magic thing. Straight from skeptic to practitioner, who would have guessed it?

I got a call through from Carl a couple of days ago. We had a long chat. Longer than I've had for ages! We talked about everything, but it was serious. We both felt we were at the right stage, and are officially going out! I'm so happy I could explode! He said he was heading to Oaks to chek some stuff out to do with Hyperion Star, so I deciped I'd tag along, just to keep an eye on the big lug.

But yeah. Few days later and I met up with Carl again in D. We chatted a while, and, uhh, other stuff. But it was all good. He took me out to the greatest resturant in Steel Canyon! I was absolutly stuffed by the time we left! And it was on to Carl's place after. I won't go into any details here, but I havn't felt like this in, well, forever. And I mean it


 

Posted

Private journal of White Vampyr

I never even spoke to Moonfrost. I merely saw him in the background when I first visited what Bastinado calls The Bunker, our main base. But his death has affected me a lot.

From all accounts, Moonfrost was bright, had plenty of life experience, and showed promise as a hero. He knew about our situation as well as any. But when he took on just a couple of muggers in Central Park, all his experience and care had not prevented him losing control of his powers.

I saw the pictures of it online. Central Park looking like some mini-Ice-Age had descended. Moonfrost apparently killed, frozen by his own powers, taking the muggers and 17 innocents with him. Its horrible.

I guess I'd accepted that I was a timebomb that could self-destruct. It was easier for me. This was all extra time anyway. I'd been prepared to die over a year ago, and every breath since then has been like bonus time. But knowing I'm a bomb that could take out others around me? No, that I wasn't prepared for. That I can't accept.

I had Brit install some state of the art energy containment and dampening technology in the apartment. Hopefully, if something goes wrong at home, it will contain the damage, prevent it affecting others. It should at least protect Brit and Rachel.

Poor Brit. He so willingly spent a fortune on that stuff, just to keep me sane. I love him so much that I can't bear to even think of what will happen to him if... If I cease to be around.

Finding a cure seems to have been almost abandoned since the loss of Johnny. I guess none of us left have the expertise to even ask the right kind of questions. Perhaps the newly arrived Doctor to our group will get the research back on track.

Meantime, we seem to have a known enemy. From the files on the laptop, it seems that The Lost have had us under surveillance for quite a while. Bastinado wants us to hit them hard and take them apart until we get answers, find out who's so interested in us, and why.

I'll be glad to go on the offensive. I feel at times like we are sitting back too much, waiting for answers to fall into our laps. We don't have the time for that. The bombs are ticking inside us. We've got to force things along. Every second may count.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Private journal of White Vampyr

The night didn't start well. Last week we had begun investgation into the use of biological weaponry by the Vazhilok lot. Seems they'd created some sickening disease and they had released it, through infected zombies at the least. Tonight I found out I was infected.

Thankfully, we had gotten samples of the pure virus last week, and a serum or vaccine to cure the plague had been produced. But it's never that simple is it. The Vazhilok had found out about the serum and were attacking the lab where it was produced, and unless I could save that lab, its staff, and its serum, well, things didn't look good for me.

Bastinado called in the assembled Watchmen to help me, which was just as well in my enfeebled state. I could hardly breathe if I exerted myself, and I tired incredibly fast whenever I tried using any of my powers.

I took quite a battering, and we all ended up in the hospital at one stage, but we managed to save the lab, and its precious serum. The grateful medical team wasted no time in giving me a shot, and we headed back to base while the cure took effect.

Carl came by the base in his GoodGuy guise to report in person what he'd found. Instead, Psyte found something about Carl that none of us had known. Carl was carrying the psyche of the heroine he'd tried to save from the Rogue Isles. Her name was Comette.

Through Psyte's amazing mental powers, he was able to let the lost spirit talk with us through Carl. It was obviously hard for them both, but with our assistance, Psyte managed to hold the spirit of this fallen heroine forth and let her communicate with us. Carl had managed to bring the girl home after all in some small way, and this was such a bitter-sweet thing that I was almost choked with tears by it.

This wasn't Bastinado's kind of interrogation. Instead it somehow fell to me to talk with this poor lost spirit. She didn't even know she was dead, and it took all I had to hold it together and try to break it to her with gentleness and love.

Comette was well aquainted with Hyperion Star. She had been both his sidekick and his lover. This was the first time we'd spoken with anyone that knew him, and here we'd hit the jackpot, yet in such sorrowful circumstances...

Finally, Hyperion Star has a name, an identity. I've even booked an appointment with Human Resources at the University to learn more about Saule, the astrophysicist who became Hyperion Star, and his partner, Sarah/Comette.

Our further investigations were interupted by a lot of serious activity on the Police Scanner, concerning super-villains in Steel Canyon, and I think we all rather relished the chance to let out some of the extreme emotion of dealing with poor Sarah.

Rest in peace, Comette. You are reunited with Hyperion Star once more. You made it home.


http://www.savecoh.com/

 

Posted

Despite my distrust of Carter's leadership qualities, yesterday he turned up an excellent lead.

I was more than dubious when, with little more than the nudging of a super-villain to guide him, Carter wanted to lead us all to a 'meeting' in Bloody Bay. Not one of us (except the gullible Mr Carter) seemed to have any doubt this was an ideal trap setup. However, with time against us Bastinado thought the same about this situation as I had about The Lost: That even if it is a trap, we must spring it, because the waiting game does not favour us.

Our team has really come along, and everyone seems to have learned how to use their powers to great effect. Despite a few encounters with gangs of freaks, and some powerful groups of the Gandalf wannabes, we easily made it to Carter's rendezvous location. Anything that tried to attack us had a real bad day.

We were greeted at the meeting place by a disembodied voice, which turned out to belong to a slim woman who stepped seemingly from thin air, so well was she hidden. She was very cagey, but not at all like many of the boastful and insane villains one sometimes finds ranting around. She gave a name of Ms Slash, but this was obviously not a real name, or even a known codename. Just something to call her by.

Ms Slash told us that our enemies, those responsible for creating the situation with Hyperion Star, were a faction within a larger group. The faction, called The Iron Hands, head up Research and Development for the larger group, which we understand to be called LAI, and some kind of huge corporation.

She mentioned other factions, including the one she was a part of, and it became aparent that there is friction and discord among these factions. Ms Slash aparently belongs to a faction named The Birds of Prey, but she didn't respond to my questions about what function The Birds of Prey might represent.

Ms Slash told us that The Iron Hands had been experimenting with Power Manipulation - using technologies and mutagens to create and modify super-powers. The mutagenic chemical agents that we have found in our DNA is apparently part of an early batch, a batch that was unstable. However, the research permitted them to create a more stable and useful formula apparently.

We were told of someone named Dipster, a former 'blaster' who'd had his powers successfully modified by use of the finalised technologies and had been corrupted to join the Iron Hands. A DNA sample from Dipster should provide a lot of information on how to stabilise our own powers and (hopefully) prevent the 'supernova' effect that many victims have experienced.

We were also told of an associate of Dipster, an Arbiter, who'd apparently been sneaking into Paragon City regularly. Ms Slash told us that this Arbiter was working right under the noses of Longbow and Freedom Corps, in the ruins of Faultline. It seemed unlikely, but at least it was a lead we could check out and verify.

Ms Slash's motives for whistleblowing on the Iron Hands seems to be a combination of a little factional friction, and a large amount of personal hatred for the leader of the faction. If she's telling the truth, and this is not just an elaborate trap, she is risking everything in contacting us and betraying her employers.

None of us were keen for the meeting to last any longer than necessary, as we picked up some random transmissions from villains that seemed to suspect our presence in the zone, and be trying to find and hunt us. As soon as we could wrap it up and get out we did.

It was quite a coincidence that she'd provided us with a lead in Faultline, as my own contacts and investigations had pointed me to the same place, and Bastinado too had established a contact in the zone.

My lead was given first priority. An Asian criminal group known as the Tsoo had obtained something they called a 'Human Bomb' formula, and have kidnapped some people to test it on. This had sounded far too similar to what had happened to Comette to ignore, and hearing on the police scanner that the cops had located the hostages, the Hyperion Watchmen were given permission to handle the raid and recover the hostages.

Our raid was a complete success, and not only did we recover the hostages, we also confirmed that the Tsoo had recieved the shipment from Faultline via agents from the Rogue Isles, and we also gained a sample of the formula for Dr Furnace to examine and compare to the mutagenic chemicals detected in our own bodies. Its my hope that by identifying clearly which parts were found to be 'weaponlike' it will help the good Doctor find a treatment.

Following up on Bastinado's contact, we met a rather disillusioned man named Jim Tremblor, who needed our help to recover his young Super-Heroine friend. Once again, The Lost were involved in the case, but our prior experience in handling these mutated villains really showed, and we rapidly took apart their base to recover the heroine unharmed.

Further investigations lead us to a powerful leader of the Lost, named Kurse. If any would know exactly how The Lost were involved in the incident with Hyperion Star and Comette, it would surely be Kurse. Again, our raid was a complete success, and more interesting still, we encountered a Rogue Islands Arbiter named Sands who was also fighting Kurse. This was the Arbiter that Ms Slash had named, and this does seem to fully support the accuracy of her information.

We decided to make a temporary alliance of conveniance with Arbiter Sands to fight together to defeat Kurse, which seemed an excellent chance to get close enough to Sands to perhaps learn something about this Dipster.

We have learned a lot as a result of all these activities, yet it has shown us only the more clearly how much is yet to be uncovered. We'll need to deal with Sands again somehow to get closer to the mysterios Dipster.


http://www.savecoh.com/