Welcome Heroes to Freedom City.
Freedom City is a thriving metropolis of modern buildings and architecture. It is home to millions, and more move into the area each day, drawn by the promise of a new life in a city filled with new jobs and new challenges. Freedom is one of the largest cities in the United States, one with a promising future.
Will you be able to be a hero and protector of Freedom City?
Its early evening in Freedom you are ready for your nightly “job”.
The wind whipped past him as he made a a hard banking turn west over the cold waters of the bay, Century Bridge rushed towards him, he spiraled through the suspension wires. "... this is Unit 437 in pursuit, suspect heading south on Route 4 towards the Boardwalk. Request ..."
Hearing all he needed from the brief chatter over the police band, Markus poured on his speed brushing against the sound barrier. He could hear the sirens, it sounded like 437 had gotten their backup. Markus considered the situation, a high speed chase through Southside could end badly for a number of different reasons. He pulled along side the speeding SUV, a quick scan revealed that the child was in the rear of the vehicle, the man, his father was panicked.
"Sir, you need to pull the vehicle over, think of your son." Markus knew from the police chatter that the man was working on an expired Visa and that the INS was going to deport the man back to Jamaica. "The %#@& man! Where you ... $&!%!" As soon as the man saw him flying, keeping pace beside the vehicle he swerved. Markus shook his head, rookie move, he should have known his sudden appearance would startle the man. In a blur of red, blue and gold he swung to the far side of the SUV, spreading his arms wide he braced his legs and cushioned the momentum of the vehicle. He felt the metal crush against his chest and shoulders, his feet dug into the asphalt until the vehicle finally came to a stop.
Markus checked on the frightened young boy in the rear, before walked around to the drivers side of the vehicle. "Your son is fine sir," he looked quickly at the father's left arm and chest, "though the impact seems to have fractured your wrist, I would avoid moving it sir, police and paramedics are en route." He returned to the rear of the vehicle and opened the sliding door, the young boy looked up, his face still wet with tears. "Come on young man, would you like to go back home, I am sure your mother is worried."
"Mama?" Markus held out his arms and the skinny young boy crawled forward, "Are you Super Man?" Markus laughed, "No, this isn't a comic book, this is Freedom City. What's your name?" The boy wiped the moisture from his eyes, "It's Will, what's your name?"
Two cruisers pulled up, and the officers quickly exited surrounding the SUV hands loosely over their holsters. As one of the older officers drew his gun to point it towards the broad chest of Invictus, his younger partner placed his hand over it encouraging him to lower the weapon. "That's Invictus, he teamed up with Next Gen a while back during the Atlantean attacks." The young boy looked up at him and asked curiously, "Invictus?". "Yes, that's me. Officers, his father is still in the drivers seat, his left wrist is fractured, and it looks like he has a couple bruised ribs. I'll take the boy back to his mother if that is ok with you?" As the assembled police nodded Markus lifted off and flew off over the bay.
The boy was asleep by the time he reached a quiet suburban home outside of Boston. The flight had taken much longer than Markus had hoped, but he didn't want to risk flying too fast with the scared young boy in his arms. The first hour had been filled with questions, he deflected most of them, the thrill of flying home seemed to erase the trauma of his father fleeing with him.
As he drifted down to the front door of the young man's home, he noticed the living room lights on. The front door banged open, a distraught young woman, her eyes red with grief stared in open mouthed amazement. "Who? What? WILLIAM!" And then she was running towards Markus taking her son from his arms. "He's safe ma'am. His father is with Freedom's City Finest. I'm glad I was able to get him home to you, but you've both had a hard night," and with a pointed look at William, "and tomorrow's a school day."
The flight home was much quicker, he had hoped to patrol Southside tonight, looking for this Silencer vigilante, but that would have to wait. He had a school trip tomorrow, the Freedom City Court Houses with his Civics students. The problem was Ms. Oystruk was off sick, and she was supposed to be the second teacher on the trip. A thought occured to him, Derek Swift, Aurora's father. They had met at a parent teacher conference, and Derek had mentioned that he would be willing to volunteer his time as a chaperone.
He composed the email quickly, and hoped that he would hear from Mr. Swift before tomorrow.
Dr. Derek Swift walked purposelessly down the street, an occasional snatch of nightlife passing him by.
“What am I doing out here?” he wondered, “Trying to get a shot in the head from The Silencer?”
“What am I going to do? Punch a mugger? Drag someone out of a burning car?”
None of his experiments suggested that he had developed superhuman strength or toughness. And he didn’t seem to have any useful detective skills. He had spent some time in bars that were not his sort of places. Listened to conversations that were of no use. Heard nothing that anyone needed that he could provide.
Now he was on the street late at night. For what? He had to get up early in the morning and get to the court house for the trial. He had received a notice for jury duty four times in his life. The first time he had gotten out of it because he had surgeries scheduled. The next two he had just played the Dr. card. No lawyer wanted to argue cases before the overeducated. Lawyers preferred more pliable minds. But this time he had made it through voir dire and been chosen somehow. He didn’t mind. He had no job. The renovations to the brownstone were making it fairly unpleasant to be there all day. Converting the home into a medical office was costing him a fortune and raising his blood pressure.
He snapped back to the moment to think about what he should do now. He realized he had been energizing his fist, clicking it on and off in much the same way he had played with his lighter when he had still smoked. He looked at his right fist, clicking it on and off like a light bulb with a pull chain. The motion made him feel better. He contemplated going home and getting some rest, but decided to get some coffee first. A block further on, he ducked into the Astro, a retro future diner that he much preferred to the dives he had spent the evening in. The Astro was clean and cheap and good. He sat at the counter, noting the relative lack of viruses and bacteria.
As a plate of cheese fries and a cup of coffee appeared before him, he looked up to see a familiar face.
“Iris, how’s the chemo going?”
“I feel pretty good today, doc,” the waitress replied.
She was pretty in an aging Lauren Bacall sort of way. The surgeons had done a good job, he knew, in removing her tumor. And he could see that the poisons coursing through her were attacking the remaining cancer cells.
As the second shift began to file in for burgers and chicken and eggs and pancakes, he checked his phone. The phone was a problem. He knew that it could be used to track him and that Derek Swift had no reason to be in the places Dr. Quark was. Fortunately, he had yet to find much reason to be anywhere as Dr. Quark. But he would need to find a better alternative. He had to be available to patients, and to his daughter Aurora. Maybe Albright could help with that. And the costume. He needed a helmet that offered some protection. And something more concealable than the bright green hazmat pants under a trenchcoat. “Right, the phone,” he thought.
He had an email from one of Aurora’s teachers. “What trouble is she in now?” he wondered.
But it wasn’t trouble. He remembered that he had told her social studies teacher that he would be willing to chaperon if they needed help with a field trip or something. He had also offered himself as a guest speaker to her biology teacher. Now the Social Studies guy wanted him to go on a field trip tomorrow. To the courthouse, how ironic.
He replied that he would love to but that he had jury duty for the big Ray Park Viper trial. But maybe he could meet up with the kids and talk to them. Not about the specifics of the case, of course, but about being a juror or whatever. He sent the email, left an over large tip, and headed back into the night. He would take a winding circuit back home and get some rest.
Tom Praxis slowly puts down his tools, the small sculpture model of Lady Justice he put together out of Clay should just have time to fire in the kiln and rest before presenting it to the Freedom City's Head of Art and Decoration. It was crude, but fit the idea of what they were looking for and even if another artist was assigned, his idea would be central to the project. He was after all, one of the best artists in the world.
He sighs, looking at the time. "I guess I will have to put some work into my other 'career' now." He turns off the lights and heads to his office. His graduate student, Tessa Jules, has found him more than one morning slumped over his desk. She has learned what a sound sleeper he is and to just have let him wake up on his own.
Sitting comfortably down, his ablutions finished and the sound of the heating kiln coming from the other room, he relaxes his body and stopping the ever present concentration on maintaining the animation. The body relaxes, no longer animate, just a shell of flesh, clothed in dirty jeans and tshirt.
Praxiteles flies free, his conscious in its true state, a being of spirit, linked to the astral plane. He slips further into the plane, and allows the strange distortion to speed him right through the walls of the building and invisibly into the sky of the unsuspecting city below.
He focuses on his new responsibilities. Trying to see if he can find a missing scientist or a sadistic killer. He travels from alley to alley, from block to block crossing the city, his senses still bound by mortal restraints despite his immortal form. He envies his friend and teacher, Daedalus, who can access many of the communications of the modern era, but as Golem, the living statue, he lacks these abilities and must instead rely what he can see, hear or touch. In this case, smell.
It is the smell that first catches his attention, a large fire, lots of sirens he can now hear...and screams. With a thought his spirit form travels right through the buildings on the block to the reddish glow he can now see on the far side.
The Office Building's ground and 2nd floor was completely engulfed in flame. The fire engines even now pulling up to begin trying to put out the fire, but it was too intense for them to get close, the fire blossomed out of every side of the building. Without hesitating, Golem flew in checking every room, looking for anybody inside. In the stair well, heading up he saw them, a group of works, their relaxed attire and fiction based shirts suggested computer programmers of some sort. They were headed for the roof.
Leaving the building, Golem scanned the area. There a trailer truck, he flies through, empty excellent, he hoped they were insured. Flying down he began to form a body out of the astral material, the stuff of imagination and dreams, the realm of the mind, and within a second a humanoid shape had formed, but it slowly melted and twisted forming a humanoid in Greek looking armor, entirely made of metal.
The figure takes only a single second to form into a humanoid figure, but details begin to appear, the armor, the helmet, greeves and designs. Golem looks at the body, making sure it is perfect. Only then does he reach out and channel more of the power of the Astral plane into it, animating the metal, giving it a semblance of life. Now ready, his spirit slips inside, becoming one with the metallic form, a living statue, a Golem.
Golem reaches down and detaches the trailer from the semi, he rips off the front side leaving a hole that he quickly smoothes. Moving to the center he lifts the trailer above him and with a might leap jumps to the top of the burning building. His landing crushes the roof tiles, sending cracks down into the underlying structure. He sees the workers emerging from the stairs and staring in shock at the metallic statue holding a truck above him. Golem moves quickly to the edge of the building and lies the trailer across the gap of the alleyway, creating a skybridge for the workers to cross. Looking below he can see a stunned crowd looking up at him, but behind them aid workers looking up see his strategy and begin to head into the adjacent building.
Holding the bridge steady, he pulls open the door and gestures for the workers to go through, at first they hesitate but the smoke begins to waft up through the open stairway door and they quickly begin crossing the makeshift bridge. Golem directs them through, one at a time, holding the bridge steady and making sure it remains in place. Within a minute the group is across, he asks them as they go if anyone is left, but they are sure they were the only ones inside the building. As soon as they are clear he jumps over the crowd and deposits the trailer back in the street.
The crowd begins to move toward him but he moves purposefully through, heading to the burning building. He turns and approaches the Firefighter in charge, “What can I do to help?” he says. The Firefighter looks lost for a moment then turns to the building, “we need to make a beachhead into the blaze so we can get closer, can you direct the water from the hydrant there”, pointing to one close to the blaze. Golem walks up and knocks off the top of the hydrant and uses his body to direct the water into the flames, already other groups are hosing down the nearby building, preventing the fire from spreading.
Once the firefighters can get close enough, the lead Firefighter turns to Golem, we need to get inside and clear the fire, can you go in and make sure the building doesn’t fall on them?” “I would be honored to help. Just tell me what you need done.” Soon the firefighters move into the building, debris and supports being moved or constructed along the way. An hour passes and the fire is controlled, the building however is totaled. Golem exits with the last group, making sure they make it out safe.
The crowd cheers, Golem turns to the firefighters cheering them, not immediately realizing the true intention of the crowd. He turns to the lead Firefighter, “Are the workers ok?” he asks. “Yes, they will be fine, thank you for your help, it would have been impossible to rescue them otherwise.” Golem turns and nods, “Excuse me, I must depart now, be safe.” He then leaps over the nearby building getting away from the press. He dissolves the body and returns to the skies, looking again for the elusive Silencer.
Later that night, he meets briefly with Daedalus, who has seen the news report. “Good job Prax, you did wonderful rescuing those people and helping put out the fire. “ Daedalus then turns to the TV, showing the footage of the fire and the ‘skybridge’ he made. “Let me ask you a question, given your abilities, why did you use the truck and not just make a bridge yourself?” Golem turns, a stunned look on the face of flesh body he is once again occupying, “I totally forgot I could do that…”
Dr. Isaac Charles Cooper, PhD Cubed, had the security clearance to be on the roof of Savage Solutions. The T.I.G.H.T.S. did not quite fit the company dress code, but they'd given up on enforcing that on Isaac. Nobody with half a brain would let him near a customer or some visiting VIP. The company? They got him.
Good thing too, since grad students twice his age used to live in fear of Isaac's sense of humor. Plus it got hot in that lab sometimes and he put a very clear Do Not Disturb sign on the door. You accidentally moon sixteen undergrads and they start thinking you're a deviant! It was almost as bad as the time they found the left half of that cat in the fridge.
Wonderful creatures. Isaac should get a cat. Not to dissect, but maybe he could open up the skull and install a transparent dome? The Visible Cat Brain. Why did he never think of that at the barber? When was the last time he'd been to a barber? Oh right, age four. Isaac got that burn from the UV light. Good times.
But...here he was. All suited up and nowhere to go. All the systems checked out, or Isaac assumed they had before he started for the edge at a full run. If anybody asked, he would tell them that. Real geniuses didn't need to run system checks. This was Mad Science, not your granny and a test tube in adult diapers. He leaped out into open air, arms spread wide, and plummeted headfirst toward the pavement six floors below.
"Bangarang!" he screamed as concrete rushed up. The radio came to life with the theme from the Neverending Story. Perfect timing! Blue light flared around the suit as the antigraviton generators came to life. Local gravity bent around Isaac and his fall turned horizontal exactly one centimeter short of impact.
Isaac let out a wordless howl as he spun on his longitudinal axis, facing the brilliant stars in their ultraviolet glory.
"Harry Potter can kiss my ass!" He told the sky as he turned again and gained altitude, two meters short of colliding with the security fence.
Isaac took himself well above the clouds and lost more than an hour plunging, swooping, spinning, and turning in less than the radius of a dime.
Oh right. He meant to patrol. How did you patrol? Just flying around looking for trouble seemed very improbable, but Isaac was a maniac in space tights. Probability could get in line behind Potter. He flew back beneath the clouds, picked a street at random, and swept it at visual range. Then another. Another. He should go to a high crime area. Maybe somewhere with gangs ready to shoot anything blue and glowing in the sky!
Would have been a good idea to research that before heading out, but that would have meant not taking his maiden flight for another few minutes. Then the security guard might have come by and caught him half-dressed. Four times in one week was enough, thought to be fair three-quarters of those took place because the guard took it on himself to investigate "strange noises" in the lab. How many times did it take normal people to learn something? Honestly, if he'd been slaving over a hot miniaturized particle accelerator harvesting antiprotons for six hours, he'd lose the shirt too.
More than four; that's how many it took.
Isaac should have a battle cry.
Time to put on some T.I.G.H.T.S!
Don't drop the scone!
Drop and give me Avogadro's Number!
Spoon!
Science!
Mad Science!
Suuuuuuuuuuuuper Genius!
Moonchild!
Strange Matter!
Not even a kitten in a tree, though Isaac did see an owl get a rat. Pretty good, but not enough to make him want wings.
Bangarang. Definitely bangarang.
Behold the new face of failure?
The ribbon on my wrist says do not open before Christmas! ...too long. Do the professional spandex jockeys hire PR firms for this? I think I want the Don Draper pitch. Or Ginsberg! Definitely Ginsberg.
Broadway finished sparring with the Raven, a fun time using both martial skills as well as his powers, and still he was barely able to lay a glove on her. Guess that's what experience brings
She looked over at him "Put the mask on, time for you to put the practice to work."
He flashed the gigawatt smile that always looked good to the cameras and nodded as he put on his mask, "Alright, let's go."
"Who said anything about we? You're on your own tonight. Try not to break too many windows while you're screeching at people. Raven left the room they were sparring in with a grin, draping a towel over one shoulder.
Easy, Jason, it's the spandex at work. Besides, she's too old for me, right? Jason shook his head and concentrated on the low hum that would cut friction and allow him to glide along any surface, and headed out into the Freedom City night.
It didn't take long before he saw a group of thugs harassing a young woman, and dragging her into an empty shop along the side street she'd been travelling along. Freedom city or not, travelling alone at night? Dumb. Jason smiled, Her lucky night I guess, she gets to be saved by Broadway.
He zipped down the side of the building and into the store, where he caught some of the gang in an almost compromising position. Clearly they were trying to act out some office fantasy, only with an unwilling participant. One, two...looks like 5 of them. Jason grinned thinking it would be an easy fight.
"This is where I tell you all to give up, so there won't be any fighting. He looked at the gang member who was standing over the woman, both still clothed thankfully. He gave a meaningful glance at the front of the gang member's jeans. "Not that a fight would be much of a threat. Clearly you're unarmed."
The man didn't appreciate the humor. "You're dead, cape! Get him!
Jason sighed and shook his head, "Why do they always think they can win?" Broadway failed to notice that the gang leader was looking over Broadway's shoulder, and before he fully registered that fact, he felt something large slam into his back. He rolled with the blow, but came up, one shoulder painful when he moved. "Okay, maybe that's why.
Before the rest could get a chance to jump into the fight, and before Hank Aaron with the Louisville Slugger could hit him again, Broadway chirped an odd note, and the outline of his form blurred a bit. The bat wielding slugger brought the bat to bear again, but this time is skipped off of Broadway's form. "Uh oh...Looks like a strikeout this time." Broadway took in the 9 members of the gang all converging on him and decided on a different tactic. "You know what they call it when the stage goes silent? The theatre went dark! He punctuated that last word with a keening note and the lightbulbs lighting the room shattered, at the same time Broadway glided along the floor to the wall. In the pitch black, he could hear the gang members stumbling about, and grinned. He let out a sharp pinging sound, and his ability kicked in, giving him a perfect picture of the room and what was in it.
He noticed one group of about three thugs and let out a sharp sound, the frequency of which overloaded synapses and he watched as the three slumped to the ground. He slid about the room, and waited until more of them grouped together and stunned them just the same. When he finally whittled the down to the last gang member, he slid up beside him and made a low keening sound which scrambled the man's inner ear. The thug slumped to the ground with a groan, and quickly lost his lunch.
"Oooh...don't worry, that'll wear off in an hour or so, just in time for you to enjoy a prison dinner."
He glided over to the young woman and picked her up taking her back out into the lit street.
"You really shouldn't walk dark streets alone, miss. It's not safe."
She smoothed out her clothes and hair as best she could, and smiled, "Yes but it's Freedom City. There's always a hero around when you really need one." She all but purred at him, "You can fly me home now, right?"
Jason did a double take that would have made Danny Kaye proud. "I...I can what??
"You know. Fly me home. Carry me off over the city and take me home, and make sure I'm safe. The girl sidled up closer to Broadway with a lip parted smile.
Seriously??...A superhero groupie?? Jason stepped a step back, smiling, "Uh...no miss, I don't fly at all. We'll just wait a few minutes until the police show. They'll need your statement."
The young woman's face dropped into an "I can't believe you just said that" stare, and she slumped to sit on the curb. "What are you, some sort of celibate monk?"
Jason grinned as he saw the police cruiser coming their way, and gave a salute as they stepped out of the car, meeting the officers to give his report. Looking back at the woman he said, "Nope, just Broadway baby."
"Did you hear that psychologist? He's not really evil because he has Daddy Issues? Is that really what they are going with?" Alex was on a roll and the girls knew that he'd just wind himself up more and more. Lyssie intervened. "Okay, calm down and save that righteous indignation for the presentation. I'm sure you'll be a rockstar prosecutor." "Damn Straight I will!" "But tonight, you're taking us dancing."
Jessie watched all of this distantly, distracted by the evil in Ray Park's eyes. Lyssie pulled her back, "And you are going dancing with us as well." Jessie opened her mouth just to get shushed back down. "Uh-uh-uh, no excuses. This city has dozens of other people out there and you don't need to be out there every night. Plus, you don't have know anybody, so you don't have backup. If something happens you can go deal with it. We'll be at the waterfront, so you can speed off if you need to."
They hopped the Ditko street bus and away they went. Stopping off for burgers and onion rings before the night brought Jessie out of her mood. "I'd be willing to take a dip in toxic waste if it gave me that metahuman metabolism." joked Alex. Jessie shrugged, "I guess you're just going to have to dance your ass off." "Not going to happen. I've already got too many plastic parts and there's no way I want a plastic ass. " Lyssie joined in on this, "I wouldn't let you get plastic, I'd build you a silicone ass and it would be perfect." She reached around to give his ass a squeeze in the booth.
After the meal, the girls slipped into the restroom to change and get fancied up for the club. (Watersense means never asking where the restroom is) By the time they were done, Alex was playing with half a dozen origami frogs, with the limp napkin ones complaining about the greasy burger wrapper ones. (The origami was part of his physical therapy in learning how to use his left hand. Playing with them was just him being weird.)
The Midnight Hour was a dry club - Jessie wasn't going to risk being caught with a fake ID and outed. But it had good music and the dance floor was busy. They started out as a trio, but when a cute guy with curly black hair and bright blue eyes joined Jessie, it split into two couples. When the took a break to catch their breath and collect Alex's cheeks, they found themselves at a table. The new guy introduced himself as Scott and they started talking. Scott bought a round of Cokes for them.
Something wasn't right. Powder in one of them, not quite dissolved yet. "Oh, I'm not thirsty, why don't you drink it?" she said cheerfully. "Nah, I've had too much caffeine." He wasn't expecting an armlock and his face put to the table. Jessie had wondered about the need to train in hand-to-hand techniques when she wasn't super-strong, but this was working out. Alex hadn't caught on, "Whoa, what the f!!@?!"
The commotion had brought more attention and a musclebound bald guy stepped over. "What's the problem here?" "She's crazy." said Scott. Jessie smiled, releasing him. "I thought I saw him slip something into my drink. Now you can either prove me wrong by taking a nice big gulp or you can let this nice man get you the f&~# out of this club." The bouncer looked between the both of them and gestured to the glass. Scott tried to do the "clumsy spill" and found himself being lifted out of his seat before the cup hit the floor. "Next time, just call for me." said the bouncer as he dragged Scott away.
Oh boy he thought to himself, this is my fault.
The Cathode Cathedral had visitors for the first time in years. Det. Rosemary Alcorn and her husband Harrison Alcorn were being targeted by a mafia-affiliated crime family, The Malagrossos and Techno Priest thought 'Hey, why not get involved?'. Not particularly high up or important in the grand scheme, but the Malagrossos were making big steps, trying to run a racket. Harrison Alcorn's running for senate came into conflict, seeing that his politics weren't quite in line with the Malagrossos.
Heavy emphasis on were. Word on the wire was that the Malagrossos were struck off of The Silencer's long list. All thanks to Techno Priest. When he had last communicated with the Silencer, he made it simple. DO NOT KILL in big bold letters. in bigger, bolder letters immediately following the first set. INTIMIDATE was the word used. Strongly used. Like, five or six times used. I've gotta stop working with these vigilante-types, jeez. A bunch of dolts.
Across the converted subway station, The Alcorns lay snuggled on the couch, feet kicked up on the ottoman, under heavy blankets asleep. The LEDs shined down with faux-starlight through the station's glass dome. Why there was a glass dome in a subway station so far underground was a conundrum to him, but hey, it looked pretty nice once he installed the LEDs and the "False Sky" program. Besides helping him keep a decent sleep schedule, it also added a bit of romance to the Cathode Cathedral. Or at least it would, if that were a thing for him.
"I'll let you two sleep," he said "...but don't expect me to make breakfast in the morning". He grabbed his cloak, took a step off the platform and was met by his glider. I really messed up this time. What was I thinking? 'Oh, he won't kill them because I politely said not to' Pft, yeah. OK smart guy. How do we fix this?
The Silencer was tricky. The two never came face-to-face, have only communicated through cryptic emails and letters and obviously were not on the same level on how to handle things. Techno Priest preferred to annoy, exhaust and disable. The Silencer preferred to... well.. silence. With guns. Weird silence guns. They were at odds with a strange "frenemy" working relationship. His involvement with The Silencer came initially from necessity. Techno Priest acknowledged that he wasn't the type to do it all by himself, so he enlisted the help of The Silencer. He baited him with crucial information and like clockwork, the Silencer was there to dismiss all the hired guns protecting a vital server. It was necessary at the time, but that should've been it.
Techno Priest zoomed through the old discarded tunnel systems, transferred through the sewer systems and reached the surface at the Docks. He flew high and closed his eyes. The City was alive, pulsing, flowing, humming with energy. It was that hum that called to him, that kept him going, it was everything to him. Teenaged girls chattering on the phone, day time television nonsense, white static, car horns, airplanes taking off, traffic lights and crosswalk signals, illegal internet downloads-- all of it contributed to "The Hum". He tapped in, listened close to all the noise and tried picking apart anything related to The Silencer.
...suspect heading south on...OH MY GOD STEPH YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE.....a man of iron rescued office workers by lifting...three easy payments of 9.99!...234.542.2.616.34.78...Based on complications growing up, he may be a product of his environment but he is not ev...get it over with and kill him
He opens his eyes in shock. WHOA-- Where'd that come from?
He focuses in on the hum and pinpoints it.
But boss, he ain't gonna talk if he's dead. We'll wait til you meet us here. 108 & Cart.
Thanks for the invite, idiots.
"108 & Cart, industrial district with plenty of warehouses." Hovering over the area, he sends out his senses, searching for any security cameras and rapidly switching between them until he spots a suspicious man in suit and tie smoking a cigarette outside of one of the warehouses. "Typical". Techno Priest jumps onto the rooftop. The Techno-Glider dematerializes into minuscule bits and attaches itself to his belt. His vision switches over to a camera inside the building. He activates a cellphone's microphone to hear down below. Four men stand around holding guns, a man held captive in the center severely beaten, face swollen.
"So what's the deal? Is he comin' down here?"
"He said to go ahead and kill the twerp. He don't care for anything he has to say. But, y'know, I'm feelin playful."
"Yeah, what you got in mind?"
"How about we-"
Techno Priest had enough. These men were some sick individuals and they weren't kidding around.
The lights shut off. Priest uses the shouting and confusion from the goons below to mask his entrance. He takes point high up on a shelf and watches as the four men scramble to get the lights on.
WHO THE HELL IS THERE!
No reply
SHOW YOURSELF AND MAYBE WE WON'T KILL YA
Still nothing.
You're really askin' for it!
An engine turns on and starts roaring towards a man, striking him and pinning him underneath it. The three others shoot back in retaliation. When the lights turn back on, they see that their partner was taken out by a forklift.
What the F@&* WHO'S MESSIN WITH US calls out the head of the group. He waves around a hefty assault rifle that quickly disassembles right before him, getting hit with it's pieces. Wh-what the F@#%&! IF you guys see anyone, SHOOT HIM
A crackled, static-y voice lets out a gravelly cackle.
"You won't see me."
On cue, the lights shut off, and a high frequency screech hits two of the men sending them reeling with nausea. A clicking sound starts getting louder as the leader of the group panics.
C'MON MAN You don't have to do this! he cries.
You're right. I don't have to do anything. But, y'know, I'm feelin' playful.
The man gets up and begins to run in the dark and is hit with a loud clanking thud to the head as the warehouse's crane hoist knocks him unconscious.
Eh, that was ok I guess. Are you doing all right over there, Mr. Captive? Sorry if I scared you too. The cops will be here any minute, so hang tight.
@Techno Priest
The beaten up "Mr. Captive" in slurred voice and a very panicked voice with blood running from him mouth. No man you got to get me out of here you can't turn me over to the cops I know things that I shouldn't know about people I shouldn't know them about. He has connection every where just help me get out of town for a while till things calm down I beg you. If you turn me over to the cops you mine as well shoot me in my head right now!!
You see that he is looking for a way to run away ASAP.
"..."
The Tech-Glider materializes. Techno Priest steps onto his craft and then sizes the man up. Police radios are squealing in his ear with their sirens less than a mile away.
"What are you, around 190? Step on and hold on tight. This isn't meant for two. It'll be enough to get us out of here though. Try anything funny and I drop you on their laps, got that?"
They clear the warehouse district with police cars blaring below them. The straining glider sends a distressed signal to Techno Priest who then relays the information to the man.
"We're gonna have to touch ground. Didn't expect to expend so much energy tonight."
"What do you mean? Y-you can't just leave me down there alone! What if they find me?!" the man cries.
"Calm down, I've got a car waiting on us. I'm gonna need some answers from you. Lots of answers..."
The glider touches down in a darkened alley way, a second later, an all black SUV with a few scuffs pulls up. The man moves towards the passenger seat but Techno Priest motions him towards the driver's seat, while he moves to the back seats.
"You expect me to dr-"
The ignition kicks on and the car pulls out into the busy streets, weaving in and out of traffic as if someone were at the wheel. On the dashboard, a photo of Rosemary and Harrison Alcorn and their dog.
"...Oh... That's kind of--"
"Who are you, who is after you, why do they want you dead?" Quick, forceful and to the point. Shrouded in the darkness of the backseat, his amber eyes glow brightly. A quiet whirr stirs materializes in his hands.
After finally calming down and being able to see though his swollen and bloody face.
Holy Sh!t you are a machine!!!!!
Trying to pull away from the back seats.
Listen Machine Man I don't know who it is that wants me dead I don't know if anyone knows who he is or even its a he for sure. all I know is someone is coming to Freedom and the underworld will never be the same, the gangs don't stand a chance the families don't stand a chance I'm not even sure Viper stands a chance when all is said and done.
Even more visibly shaken then before after giving you this information.
I need to get to my place, getting my passport, my stash and I'm leaving, so either take me there or let me the F@#% Out!
It's bedtime at the Enyo household; Sophia is snug in her crib,and Jason and Alexander both have been ushered off to their beds. Several times. After a final story (the fourth final story) from Grimm's Fairy Tales (Alex likes the scary ones, Jason likes the bloody ones), they finally go to sleep, each fiercely clutching their stuffed animals. Milton gives a small sigh as he tucks the boys in and checks on Sophia one more time. He has a good life. Not for the first time, Milton Enyo watches his daughter sleep with bemused wonder. Milton Enyo is a librarian. A nobody. He's the only person who managed to be a varsity athlete in three sports, and be completely friendless in high school. He had been too bookish for the jocks, and too much of a meathead for the brains. His only friends had been books. Still are, actually. No one knows him at the high school not really. "How did I get so lucky?"
"You married a beautiful, smart, funny, vivacious woman." His smile turns slightly wolfish and he lets out a small growl as he feel feminine hands wrap around his chest, stroking muscles he desperately tried to hide. "And, you're sort of amazing, too, y'know."
"Only sort of amazing?" His smile is more than slightly wolfish as he spins around, lifting her into his arms so that her legs are wrapped around her waist. He waggles his eyebrows as she shrieks and admonishes him that they need to be quiet.
"Well, you do have the body of a Greek god." She means it as a joke. It's something silly between them. He knows that. But, it hurts all the same. Milton tries to hide it, to mask the unease he feels when she calls him that. "All this time, and you still can't take a compliment."
He fails. "Well, I'm no Invictus. Or Tatum Chandler."
"Channing Tatum, and... you're better. You're mine." She nuzzles his neck and whispers in his ear. "You love me. That makes you more than sort of amazing." The whisper does the trick; she probably knew it would. He growls and he's pushing her on the bed, not too rough, but forceful, dominant. She laughs, and he's lost in the thoughts of someone else.
Him. Ares. A God. [i[The[/i] God of War. He hates hiding things from her. It kills him a little bit inside every time he tells her that he has a late night book drop off, or that he has to stay late and finish inventory, or plan for a class tomorrow. Ares (it’s better to act like he’s a different person, like the god is a character he portrays, and that’s the biggest lie. Deep down he knows the truth: he is Ares. He’s not an act. He’s not a character. He. Is. Ares). Ares, hates the lie, too. Milton can take some comfort in that. At least, he’s always been honest, before he was cursed to live on Earth.
Later (much later) Milton kisses his wife’s cheek and checks on the children one more time. Then, he drives off in his van. ”Ares drives a minivan.” He laughs at the irony of that statement. No one could have told him that thousands of years later, he’d settle down with a family and live the American Dream in the suburbs. No one could have done it and lived. It’s funny what mortality will do to a god.
He parks in his usual spot. It’s dark, and well hidden. No one will touch the vehicle. As he walks away, his clothes dissolve into the ether, replaced by the Raiment of War. He extends a hand, and a spear forms in his hand. He hefts it a bit, testing its weight. Good. He walks and his blood-red cloak billows out behind him, revealing sun-darkened muscles clad in brilliant bronze armor. Gravel crunches beneath his sandals. Who was he kidding? He loved being Ares. The strength, the power. Nothing in his life had made sense until Daedalus told him who he was. Well, nothing other than his family, and even that had seemed like a dream. But, now… he is Ares. He is War. It is time to find a battle.
He had located a meth lab the night before, a few of the kids were talking in the library about a new place to get a quick fix. A few google searches later, and he knew where to go. He walks up to the door and considers just slipping in quietly, like a ninja. Or knocking and asking them to stop. For a moment, he considers what Invictus would do, or Daedalus. Daedalus was always trying to get him to do the nice thing, the smart thing.
He decides to kick the door in. He barely touches the door, and the wood splinters. He charges in with a roar, his voice the rush of a thousand soldiers. Bullets spray at him. They bounce harmlessly off his armor and shield. He throws his spear and pins a gangster to the wall. The spear is through the man’s leg. He’ll live. A trident is in his hand, next, and catches a man in the shoulder, pinning him to the wall. They close, and Ares grins. It is not a pleasant smile. He drops a grenade, and walks from the blast. It’s a flash-bang. They’ll live. Most of the thugs are unconscious, either blinded or deafened. Either way, they won’t be posing any trouble.
He grabs one of the other cooks and holds him close to his face. Dominance and strength pour off of him in waves. He knows the sight he makes. Truth be told, he likes it. MIlton Enyo is such a weakling. Pathetic. He’s stronger and bigger than most people, but he acts like a fool, a bumbling nobody. As Ares….
”Where’s your boss?” He glares at the cook. His fist squeezes the man’s neck. Man. Ha! Like this scrawny thing could be called a man. No one who could call themselves a man make this poison and sell it to children. A man protects children. A man is a father to all… He begins to squeeze, but catches himself just shy of doing damage. He wouldn’t kill. Heroes don’t kill.
He smirks as the weakling wets himself and points over Ares’ head. The click of a safety disengaging makes him laugh. ”I’m right here, Cape.” The gun fires, and the bullet flies towards Ares.
Bullets. The tools of War. The irony would make Ares laugh it weren’t so foolish. The god drops the cook and lifts his shield, catching the bullet on his shield. He spins and throws an axe, next. It’s wide, but it was meant to be a distraction, not an end game. Ares wants the satisfaction of putting this filth-peddler in his place!
He rushes the gangster, his shield dissolving into mist as he flies in a powerhouse kick. The drugboss meets him in the middle. He earns a small amount of respect for that. He even considers going easy on him. Almost. They trade blows, fists and kicks, mostly. The druglord is good. He has training and natural skill. He could have been a prizefighter in another life, or an MMA fighter. Ares is better. He slams a fist into the gangster’s nose, shattering it flat, then follows with a cupped hand to his ear. The can feel the eardrum burst, before he turns and kicks at his kneecap. The druglord collapses, screaming in pain. They’re music as Ares goes about tying up the crooks.
”Who’s your boss?” The man sneers and spits blood in Ares’ face. Ares just smiles. ”I will hurt you more, unless you tell me.” He presses on the man’s dislocated shoulder to prove his point.
”Dude! I thought you were supposed to be one of the good guys! You’re a hero!”
Ares laughs bitterly and draws nearer. He can smell the poison on the crook. He knows the crook can smell him, too. The smoke, the sweat, the blood. Good. ”It is a terrible thing to behold, when a good man goes to war. Pray that I am not a good man.”
The man shudders and stutters a name. He’s broken. He doesn’t even put up a fight when Ares puts him down to get more rope. The weakness is almost enough to make him want to hurt the thug all over again. But, he restrains himself. He calls the cops and walks away from the building. He’s not the kind of hero that stays around for the police. He’s not the kind of hero they’d want to see. People know war exists, they don’t want to [i[know[i] war. No sane person does.
Ares stalks to his van. The tarnished and battle-scarred armor drips off his body in molten drops of bronze, evaporating into the air when they hit the pavement. Once more in sneakers and sweats, he eases into his van and drives away. He smirks as he sees the flash of red and blue in the distance. A job well done.
Milton comes back home and showers, grimacing at the murky water running down the drain. He hopes no one saw him sneak in. Part of him rages at the need for secrecy. A man shouldn’t hide in the darkness like a thief. He has nothing to be ashamed of. He is a warrior, proud, brave, and strong. He defended his city tonight, the blood and filth--their blood, not his--gives testimony to his valor! Then, he remembers: Jenny would have a heart attack; and the kids would never let him near them, again. Clean, he slips back under the covers to snuggle up with his wife and drifts off to sleep.
Dawn breaks three hours later.
Another drawn out silence. He's thought about it in the past. Has he crossed that line yet? Is he less man and more machine? The concept startled him, the idea that Dr. Frankenstein had become his own monster. More to think about while I lay awake at night
"Lorenzo..."
The man's jaw drops and he staggers to find his words
"H-how'd you know my name?"
"We drove by a cruiser. Ran your face through their database, your license popped up with your name and address. We're headed to your place as we speak. Help me help you. Tell me what you know, and maybe you won't have to run. My name is Techno Priest. I may be able to help you."
Shaking his head looking back at Techno Priest
I don't think you can protect me but you get me out of town on my way to Canada ill give you everything I know, but until I'm gone, I will keep some things to my self.
He reaches in the glove box to see if there is anything he can use to clean himself up. He finds a handkerchief with an expensive monogram on it, he wipes all the blood off his face and make himself look a little more presentable.
The SUV pulls up to his nice little town house in an upper class area of Freedom.
As Lorenzo is getting out of the SUV
Listen you might not believe what I'm going to tell you that's why I will give you my evidence also after you get me out of town, but the name i'm going to tell you is an underworld legend that no one is sure is real or not but I'm sure its real. Look it up in that computer brain of yours The Kingpin and he is coming to Freedom City
Lorenzo walks up to the door of his house opens it up walks in and shuts the door.
The next thing you realize, is the sound and pressure of the giant fireball raging out of the house hitting the SUV with full force.
As the horrible ringing in your ears becomes audible again as you are able to move again after that stunning explosion you realize you need to leave the area quickly.
Something didn't sound right. There was a high-pitched screech. By the time he could pinpoint it, it was too late. Lorenzo had gone up in smoke and almost took Techno Priest with him.
The Kingpin?
The ringing in his head nearly knocked him out, but he knew he got himself stuck in a hard place. He had to think fast. He reached up to the dashboard and grabbed the Alcorn's family photo and stashed it in a pouch. He got out of the car and immediately smashed the driver's side window. We'll play this off as a stolen vehicle. He reached under the steering column and tugged at some wires to fit the part. The smell of charred flesh clung on to him as he hobbled onto his near-depleted glider. Great, he thought to himself, way to think ahead. The metallic glider puttered off into the night's sky, struggling to hit 50 miles an hour. About a mile and a half away from the Cathode Cathedral, it finally died.
"Home's not too far away anyway. Best take the sewers to think some things through. The...The Kingpin? Bigger than Viper? I just wanted to find Silencer, now I've found myself an even bigger headache. What a night."
Much like the station that housed the Cathode Cathedral, what Techno Priest referred to as "the sewer line" was old and forgotten, some would even use the term "secret". A spider web system of manholes and tunnels that once were apart of the irrigation system of Old Freedom were now nothing but rat warrens.
He could feel that familiar hum of the cathedral call out to him. It lead him through the labyrinthian tunnels of the sewer line, smack dab into a thick steel wall covered in concrete. He stamped his feet to get all the dirt off his boots before giving a high frequency whistle. A second later, the cracks in the wall give way, and he was home.
The Alcorn's lay asleep, LED starlight from the dome overhead slowly starting to fade, reflecting the dawn soon approaching.
"No no, by all means! You two stay asleep, I'll make us all breakfast."
"Damn, you just can't keep away from the hero stuff." whispered Lyssie with a grin. Jessie shrugged, "Like I was just going to let him drug me?" Still, it left her a bit on edge. Too much adrenaline, and the pounding music wasn't helping. Alex leaned in, "You okay, J?"
She shook her head. "I'll be fine. I just need a little air. You two have a good date and I'll make my own way back." they looked concerned, but they knew they couldn't be a part of this part of her life. "Just take my notebook back when you go."
The three of them were renting a little house near the university. Well actually Dad was paying for it. Dorm life wasn't conducive to having a secret identity, so someplace more private was needed. when she complained bout it having only one bathroom, he chuckled, "You have to deal with some problems in your college life or it's just not the real experience." It had a manhole to the storm drains in the alley behind it. Not the most secret, but better than nothing.
As she left the club, she walked through the streets away from the clubs and the nightlife. She found a tight alley that led toward the river. There was a fence at the end, but there was nobody there and no security cameras around. Slipping on her mask, she pulled the water of the river around her. She took a moment to clean it, leaving a black sludge in the dumpster. And then she went over the fence and onto the river.
There were a few boats out here, lit up with music coming from them. she circled around one boat and the partygoers cheered her. She then went off down the river, cruising slow enough to watch and see what was going on around her.
Leaving behind Daedalus but not the impact of his words, Golem flies back into the city continuing his patrol, but heading back to the University and his office, knowing his flesh body was even now lying on his desk.
Crossing over the river he noticed a strange, if not unusual in this town sight, a woman riding a wave along the river. Obviously another super, but not one that I know. He changes direction, preparing to parallel her course and keep an eye on her, especially this close to the University. Why is she close to the university? Could this be an attempt to steal some of my artwork?
She circles around, about to leave and head home when she notices something. It was a water signature in the air over on the other side of the river, by Hanover. It had the usual circulatory-shaped human form, and looking up, she saw a bit of blue glow. She headed in that direction to see who it was and if he was causing any problems.
Of course, there wasn't much she could do against a flyer. once they got out of her blast range. Ad most flyers were faster than her. But she could at least check it out.
Golem notices the figure turn, heading off in a new direction. Curious he continues to parallel her course. Daedalus has repeatedly emphasized adaptability in dealing with supervillains. Given this one appears to have some control and comfort in the water, a Wood Golem may prove the best strategy or possibly porous stone. I hate working with porous rocks, they do not have the tendency to hold detail or shape. But what type of wood, oak, mahogany? hmm I must consider the estetics very carefully.
Golem's attention wanders a bit as crucial considerations are contemplated, he fails to notice Waveform's intended destination.
Big damn hero incoming!
Not in the face!
I am a golden god!
Next invention: time travel device that works for fictional universes. Isaac needed to abduct and probe Ginsberg. Or did it have to be time travel? Maybe fictional universes happened in a continuous present?
Second thought: probably more fun to make an AI-driven system that mined the source material. Then he could literally take Ginsberg home with him. Or that guy Betty had sleazy bathroom sex with. Him first. Wasn't he on Chuck too?
Him first.
Isaac wheeled around and turned for HIT, debating the best way to tell Jared about T.I.G.H.T.S.
It's not a fetish!
Deep down inside, I've always felt like I needed more spandex in my life.
Sexy selfie?
Flying over the river, Isaac saw a wave with a person on it. He could have his first fight with a hero! Or it might actually be a villain, but really you didn't get to be a hero until you committed aggravated assault on a fellow hero. It was in the rulebook in Isaac's head.
T.I.G.H.T.S. swooped down, only a few meters above the water, and matched speed as he flew alongside the wave.
"Hey Hang Ten, how's the surf? I'm a new and unfamiliar guy in spandex. By the ancient customs of my people we must immediately distrust each other, with violence!" he said in his most chipper voice. "After several million dollars of property damage, we will discover a shared enemy wearing secondary colors and possibly with a skull head who did just slightly more property damage. We fight aforementioned enemy while trading amusing banter. Also there may be sexual tension and exploitative posing of bodies. I'll pose first?"
Isaac flexed his arms in something that might have passed for a bodybuilder's pose.
Derek sat on a bench near the riverfront, digging a pebble or something out of his boot. Somehow, wondering aimlessly around town had not resulted in any positive heroing. He had seen a fire in the distance, but it seemed to be under control.
What kind of hero get's rocks in his shoe?
Suddenly there was someone swooping across the river, and it seemed to be talking to a wave.
Derek pulled his boot back on and hastily laced it up.
Touching his bluetooth neckband, he took a moment to enjoy the clicking sound of his spiffy new helmet and moved toward the railing as he shrank to the size of a Captain Thunder action figure. He didn't have much to contribute to an aerial-naval battle, but one never knew.
She chuckled, more for the release of tension than the humor in the comments. "Ah, does that mean that if we don't fight, then the skull-headed villain doesn't appear? Just think, we can save the city millions and count tonight as a win! I don't think the posing will be dangerous, so feel free to keep it up."
She will also shoot up on the wave into a pose with an impressive spray of water behind her. [b]"I'm Waveform. Also new to Freedom, but I've been Heroing in Chicago for about a year with the Justice Authority."
She chuckled, more for the release of tension than the humor in the comments. "Ah, does that mean that if we don't fight, then the skull-headed villain doesn't appear? Just think, we can save the city millions and count tonight as a win! I don't think the posing will be dangerous, so feel free to keep it up."
She will also shoot up on the wave into a pose with an impressive spray of water behind her. "I'm Waveform. Also new to Freedom, but I've been Heroing in Chicago for about a year with the Justice Authority."
[b]"Nice one," Isaac said. "I'm T.I.G.H.T.S. First-timer. Maybe a mad scientist in space tights. Maybe a robot. Possibly alien. Could be a weird teenager with a costume fetish. Not sure which is cooler. Ever get to punch anybody famous?"
"I was a junior member, so I was usually on the periphery. Plus, I'm not a puncher." A jet of water shoots up from the river into the air, close enough so T.I.G.H.T.S. can see the power, but far enough that it's obviously not intended to hit him. "I'm going to guess that you aren't a teenager with a costume fetish. You're attempting to make jokes, so you aren't a robot. I understand the jokes, so you aren't an alien. I'm going with Mad Scientist."
She doesn't mention that she knows he's human because she can feel the blood flowing through him. It's shaped like a human circulatory system, and he has the usual saliva, tears, urine in the normal places.
Another night, and the God of the War does not sleep. Currently, he's questioning another drug dealer by the riverfront. He took down one cookhouse, but there are still more. He needs to find the source, the head of the cartel poisoning these people. He needs a name. He'll get one, soon. The crook and stammers an answer but it's lost as the two stare at a large column of water grow from the river and splash down on them. It's enough of a distraction to let the crook slip free of Ares' grasp and run away. By the time Ares catches his whits, the drug dealer is gone.
"Damn." A night's work, gone to waste. He searches about for the source of the water, and finds a woman standing on top of a pillar of water talking to a man in tights. Great. Powered.
He grins and rushes towards the pair. This could be interesting.
"I was a junior member, so I was usually on the periphery. Plus, I'm not a puncher." A jet of water shoots up from the river into the air, close enough so T.I.G.H.T.S. can see the power, but far enough that it's obviously not intended to hit him. "I'm going to guess that you aren't a teenager with a costume fetish. You're attempting to make jokes, so you aren't a robot. I understand the jokes, so you aren't an alien. I'm going with Mad Scientist."
Isaac watched the jet go by, idly calculating the force behind it. That could hurt.
"I could be a very well-programmed robot. Programmed by aliens. Teenage aliens. With fetishes. Why do people think robots have no sense of humor? That's potentially prejudiced against my people. But yeah, same here. Plasma emitters. Isaac opened a palm and showed her the irising aperture. Without giving it any power. He wanted the first time he melted someone's face to be on purpose.
As he spoke, Isaac looked past the splash to the waterfront.
"You know a giant guy dressed like an extra from 300, minus the fur speedo, plus a depressingly mammary-free breastplate back in Chicago? Steroids. Pro wrestler steroids, not Coach with something to prove. Possibly turn you into a fish monster steroids."
"Human." she says without the least wisp of a doubt. Turning to the new arrival, she'll look him over, "Oh, that's just Ares. A robot would have had that in it's database. He hasn't been around long, but all the stories say he's fighting crime. Let's go say hi."
Inwardly, she's lucky she remembered a briefing that mentioned him. She usually didn't do well in her metahuman studies classes. Without waiting for Tighty, she'll head towards the shore. As she approaches, she'll call out, "Hail Ares. Well met." She guessed a casual greeting wouldn't be appropriate for a mythological figure.
A spear appears in Ares' hand as soon as Waveform makes her appearance. For a moment, the god considers throwing it, but lets it disappear, instead.
"Hail." His words are deep, booming. But, there's a hint of humor in his stance. "Well met, indeed. If you are not a foe of justice, that is."
Having quietly watched the conversation between the two heroes on the water, Golem decides that neither is likely to cause problems. Upon mentioning Ares out loud, he turns toward the figure. Daedalus asked me to keep an eye on him, perhaps I should join this conversation lest anything go wrong.
Golem flies towards Ares moving into the water on the nearby coast. He begins concentrating, his power accessing the Astral plane and material begins flowing into the water, taking the shape of a rough humanoid figure after but a single second of concentration. Over the next few seconds exquisite attention is made to detail, making sure everything meets his aesthetic requirements.
His spirit then enters the body giving it life and making it his own. From out of the water mere seconds later a living statue of burnished bronze, resembling a Roman warrior come to life, climbs out of the bay and approaches the gathering.
"Hail Ares, it is good to see you again. I was on patrol and saw you gathering and feared a potential crisis. Is there anything wrong?"
Invictus was heading back from William's home in Boston and feeling particularity pleased with himself. Sometimes it's not about punching the bad guy in the face, sometimes it's the little things. He made a conscious effort to remember the little things in his future patrols.
As he saw the Centery Narrows up ahead he pulled back his speed and lowered his altitude, threw a salute at the Trainor Airport's control tower as he banked west back over the bay and then north west down the Wading river. He noticed a collection of individuals along the river by the docks, but that's when his superhuman hearing picked it up, an explosion from somewhere around Parkside.
He picked up altitude and powered on the speed, the sonic boom rattled a few windows, set off a few car alarms, but he was high enough not to be too concerned. He pulled back his speed as he approached the explosion, a quick scan of the home revealed that the bomb had done it's duty, there was nobody in that household to save. He landed, braced himself and spread his arms wide, his hands cupped he brought them back together again a sharp crack, almost as load as his earlier sonic boom, sent a wave of air rushing towards the flames, as they flickered and died, he knew that the fire engine he had flown over on his way here would be able to handle the aftermath.
He pushed off the ground again, taking to the sky and switched his vision over to the infrared spectrum. He was able to pick up a figure flying away on a drone of some sort, the figure carried an odd sort of mace or scepter, and wore a tattered cloak complete with cowl. As Invictus followed high above the figure dropped to the ground, the drone disintegrated. No! Wait! The small particles were in fact micro tech, Markus had heard Daedalus talk about nanites before, but truthfully had never really paid attention, science was not his thing. As the figure dropped through a sewer grate Invictus almost lost him, thankfully the sewers were relatively clear of lead and Invictus was able to track his movements.
The figure came to a juncture, and then traveled through a complex catacomb of abandoned tunnels, almost absently he wondered what those tunnels had originally been intended for, but remained focused on the fleeing figure. That's when he lost him, he had been standing staring at a blank wall, and then he was just gone. Great, lead.
Invictus back tracked and found an entrance to the catacombs, and then mimicked the strange figures movements and path until he came to an oddly blank wall. Closer inspection revealed significant hydraulics and shielding behind the facade of a crumbling sewer wall.
Intrigued, Markus banged against the wall, solidly. Some of the facade shattered and crumbled away revealing the heavy duty steel that was hidden beneath. "Caught fleeing the scene of a crime that killed at least one man tonight, we need to speak. Please open this door, before I am forced to open it for you."
"Actually, I'm an Authority on Justice. Or I was. I'm Waveform, Formerly with the Chicago Justice Authority, but now I'm here in Freed..."
She watches as the water roils and moves, but Ares seems unconcerned. It's sort of painful to feel the water becoming metal, but she hides her discomfort well. This one isn't a person in a suit, but she's known non-organics all her life and it's no big thing. "I guess it's turning from an informal meet-up to a party." She looks over her shoulder at the flying guy, "Tights, get over here, and no misunderstandings."[/b] She turns to the new guys and quietly says, "Humor him if he pretends to be a robot."
Not having super hearing, she doesn't hear anything in Parkside. "Hmmm... Three guys in metal and me in a swimsuit. I guess that says something about modern superheroing."
"I do not know if it makes a difference, but I am made of metal, not in metal. As for expected modes of dress History has taught that these things change, but slowly, I er...in ancient times you would more likely see that outfit on a man, or less, than a woman."
The statue's mouth moves, even though it does not seem articulated and seems to have to pause before every sentence as if gathering his thought before speaking.
'I am curious again, is there no emergency to prompt a gathering of individuals such as ourselves?"
"I do not know if it makes a difference, but I am made of metal, not in metal. As for expected modes of dress History has taught that these things change, but slowly, I er...in ancient times you would more likely see that outfit on a man, or less, than a woman."
The statue's mouth moves, even though it does not seem articulated and seems to have to pause before every sentence as if gathering his thought before speaking.
'I am curious again, is there no emergency to prompt a gathering of individuals such as ourselves?"
"Hail, Golem.". He grips the hero's forearm tightly. "There is no combat here. I was but questioning a drug dealer when we were interrupted by a sudden wave from the river. This young lady seems to be the source.". He gives waveform a once-over. His eyes are hidden by the shadows of his helm, but it's obvious. From the way his head moves that he's studying them, and sizing them up. "I wore that to a bacchanal celebrating our victory at Marathon. People thought I was too formal."
He turns back to Golem. "What brings you here,friend?"
The loud banging sent Harrison and Rosemary on their feet, ready to run.
Seriously? Priest sighs, exasperated, as he quietly sets his pan back down on the counter. He stretched his senses outwards to the silent security system outside the cathedral. Brain scans showed someone powerful, someone who's supposed to be dead.
Another imposter? That makes no sense. Let's cross reference images in the media, scan the DMV database and see who we're really dealing with.
"What's going on!? Are they here for us?" Harrison shouts from behind the couch. Rosemary reaches for her gun and cocks it.
"No no, there was an incident. A bomb went off... And uh... Your car..."
The walls shake as the being knocks again.
Techno Priest throws his hands down at his side, feigning a teenage tantrum "SHUT UP! YOU'LL WAKE UP MY NEIGHBORS!" he shouts at the soundproof walls. He goes back to the kitchen counter, butters his pan and begins to crack some eggs.
Outside the wall, a glowing dust rises and takes shape behind Invictus. Techno Priest's head looms over the legacy hero. It's voice creaks and pops like an old record player.
In...vic....tus. Hero of Freedom City. There is no need for violence. Please, enter.
The steel wall cracks open at the brick seams. A billowing fog spills out before him. The lights flash on and off in the entrance tunnel, sparks falling to the ground. Twenty steps through the tunnel and Invictus is in the Cathode Cathedral.
The Cathode Cathedral was laid out much like a high rise studio apartment. A loft on the eastern wall contained the bedroom. Along the western wall, where a subway train would pass, is a system of monitors and computers, a lab and a workshop. Rosemary stands ready with gun in hand behind the couches at the center of the floor. Directly above her, the dome's False Sky Program grows dimmer. Off to the left of Invictus stands Techno Priest in the Kitchen. His cloak and cowl replaced by an apron, his scepter replaced with a frying pan, two eggs in his left hand, the record player voice clears for one more human.
"How do you like your eggs?"
"Human." she says without the least wisp of a doubt. Turning to the new arrival, she'll look him over, "Oh, that's just Ares. A robot would have had that in it's database. He hasn't been around long, but all the stories say he's fighting crime. Let's go say hi."
"I could be a poorly-programmed robot. They installed Bing instead of Google. And I've got an Ask Jeeves toolbar. I'd show it to you, but displaying bloatware in mixed company is considered rude among my people. Also as a teenage alien robot, I just don't pay attention in sch-"
Oh. She's gone off. Was there a social cue or something? Pfft.
"Tights, get over here, and no misunderstandings."
Isaac rolled his eyes, not that anybody could see it, and flew over with his body upright.
"Hi Ares. Hi Other Guy. I'm T.I.G.H.T.S., maybe a robot, maybe a mad scientist in space tights, maybe an alien, maybe a teenager with a costume fetish. There's evidence for each theory." Isaac said, waving.
"And for the record, this isn't really metal. I, and/or my teenage alien creators, used mostly petroleum-derived polymers. I'm only 10% metal by mass. Bummer if they ever pass a container refund law."
"You are... odd" Ares stares at T.I.G.H.T.S. in confusion for a moment, before he simply shrugs. "What brings you here this night?"
As the four of you begin to banter about with you Dr. Quark hiding
"You're right, he's very odd. No emergency that I know of. I was just going home when I saw Mr. Roboto flying around." She punctuates the name with air quotes. "I was curious and came looking."
But she turns to the walking mass of solid metal, "So, do you have a name?"
"And we have paparazzi." She slides up the side of a building to confront him. "Don't you know it's rude to photograph people without them knowing?"
Ares turns to his fellow heroes. "It is ever the burden of heroes to suffer the adoration of the crowds. Lo! Upon the rooftops o'er the waterfront! We are being watched from the shadows." Despite the severity of his words, the bronze-armored warrior sounds like he's laughing.
"And we have paparazzi." She slides up the side of a building to confront him. "Don't you know it's rude to photograph people without them knowing?"
"He's got audio recording too," Isaac said. He flew over with Waveform.
"Hey Press! We come in peace. Or piece. One of them. Two. Make it four. Four is how numbers work we are all individuals I'm not. Have you heard from my pen pal in Nulgorsk? I think he went into the dog park."
He waved as though from across a vast field, a huge motion with his full arm, from all of five feet away.
@Ares "Marathon? That was before my time. I heard stories though. I was patrolling through the area, found a fire in an office building, helped the workers out, helped some Firefighters, not much of building, boring design, no imagination in the architecture. I really like what they are doing in the Pacific, greater creative spirits.
Afterwards I was patrolling the area around the University and observed the woman riding the water, reminded me of uh...memories of the past. Wasn't sure who though, I am not familiar with the local super population so went to investigate and well here we are.
"After noticing the figure as well, Yes it seems we are indeed. In our own way we are modern artists, and the populace craves our creations. So it has been so it will always be. I hope they like my work this time, I spent some extra time getting the details in line."
A little taken back by your guys questions and initial reaction
Hello all! You don't recognize me I'm Parker Peterson one of the greatest photo journalist covering the meta human population. I'm working for Superline now. I got famous as a 16 year old kid I snapped some of the greatest pictures of the Terminus Invasion.
He starts getting a little emotional and teary eyed.
I took the last picture of THE CENTURION after he defeated Omega
After taking a bunch more pictures quickly he switches from his camera to his recorder.
So why are you together? Are you guys starting a new team? If so what is the name? I know you are Ares and making a name for yourself. Waveform you are pretty fall away from Chicago, have you moved to Freedom? I do not know who you other two please tell me who you are.
"Oh, I'm relocating here to Freedom. As for teaming up, we've only just met." she looks over her shoulder and realizes that the big guys aren't up here yet. "Just a moment." She'll head down to Ares and the metal guy. "Would you like a ride up?"
If they accept, her wave will wash over them and she'll bring them up. About half as fast. If not, she'll go back up and let them find their own way. When she sets them down, they'll find that they aren't even wet.
"Please, though I must warn you that I am pretty heavy for my size"
After accepting Waveform's offer he will turn to the photographer.
"You seem to be a gifted artist, I will have to examine more of your work, but I seem to recall that particular photo though, while it lacked in intention and precision, the capture of emotion was very well done. Oh I am Golem by the way, the living statue, I would ask if you like my work, but you would be a fool not too, and I doubt you are a fool."
Ares is about to reply to Golem when Waveform and T.I.G.H.T.S. fly off to confront the spy. "I need to learn how to fly. War should be able to fly."
He recovers quickly when Waverform returns "Aye. I would face this spy who stalks in the shadows like a coward." Easily, he steps into the column of water as though he were stepping into a carriage. When they draw near the photographer, he leaps off to land on the rooftop beside the fellow, cloak billowing out behind him, a spear in hand.
"Well met, artist. Why are you here, spying upon our congress?"
"Parker! My databanks include your work," Isaac said. "I am T.I.G.H.T.S.: Total Integrated General Hero Tactical System. My mysterious origins may include teenagers, mad science, aliens, and/or robots."
"We're not together. We are, but not together-together. Together spatially, not organizationally. The imprecision of human language often confuses my possibly alien, robotic, and/or teenage mind. Are you satisfied with your care?"
He had been prepared to rip the hydraulic door from it's footings, and deal with an aftermath of high tech weaponry and automated defenses. Instead the door rumbled open revealing ...
The Cathode Cathedral was laid out much like a high rise studio apartment. A loft on the eastern wall contained the bedroom. Along the western wall, where a subway train would pass, is a system of monitors and computers, a lab and a workshop. Rosemary stands ready with gun in hand behind the couches at the center of the floor. Directly above her, the dome's False Sky Program grows dimmer. Off to the left of Invictus stands Techno Priest in the Kitchen. His cloak and cowl replaced by an apron, his scepter replaced with a frying pan, two eggs in his left hand, the record player voice clears for one more human.
"How do you like your eggs?"
... Invictus was taken aback both by the cold, and oddly anachronistic robotic voice that greeted him, and by the figures change in attire and demeanor. He paused surveying the scene, looking at the woman he spoke softly, but with surety. "Ma'am, please put the weapon away, even if you managed to hit me, the ricochet could cause someone in this room serious harm. My name is Invictus, and at this point I am just here to find answers." He then turned to his host, "Thank you, but no. I would however, like to know what happened this evening, up to and including you fleeing the scene of an explosion that cost at least one man his life."