Holding Out For A Hero: An Original Superhero Quest

[X] Satisfied. I managed to save a man's life, even if he doesn't know who I am.
 
[X] Happy. That's one way to make a first impression as a hero.
 
[x] Hungry. I'm pretty sure there's a donut place that's still open. I should swing by on my way back.
 
Vote tally
Adhoc vote count started by Agent 99 on May 19, 2018 at 8:27 AM, finished with 260 posts and 12 votes.

Adhoc vote count started by Agent 99 on May 19, 2018 at 9:01 AM, finished with 260 posts and 12 votes.
 
Well, as soon as I tried to tally the votes, my internet died. And since then, someone else votes, so let's try to tally again.
Adhoc vote count started by Agent 99 on May 19, 2018 at 1:25 PM, finished with 262 posts and 13 votes.

  • [X] Satisfied. I managed to save a man's life, even if he doesn't know who I am.
    [X] Happy. That's one way to make a first impression as a hero.
    [x] Hungry. I'm pretty sure there's a donut place that's still open. I should swing by on my way back.
    [X] Elated. I'm officially a hero!
    [X] Pumped! I'm going to need to do this more often!
 
Sound of the Police
You can't stop smiling. It's great that you managed to take down a bad guy without taking a scratch, and you managed to save a man's life. You don't know if he'll ever know who you are or what you did, but that really doesn't matter. What matters is that you did what you thought, what you know is right. And for now, that's enough.

"I have some bad news." Jasmine says, concerned. "It looks like one of the guys out there called the police. If they weren't headed there before, they're headed your way now. They're about five minutes out"

The man laying on the ground may have tried to kill someone, but as a vigilante, you're technically breaking the law as well.

Still, you could say that summoning a suit of armor and weapons is a part of your superpower and you just happened to catch the man in the act and things escalated from there. You'll still need to testify at trial. Even if you don't get in any trouble for this, if you continue your Vigilante career, your name is going to be on a police record with a note mentioning your powers right next to it.

But if they think there was premeditation, if they suspect you went out to bust some criminal skulls, then they'll bring you in along with him. While Vigilantism isn't technically a crime, the actions you take are, since you don't have the same protections as the police or Capes. So you're looking at Assault with a Deadly Weapon at a minimum. Maybe Reckless Endangerment. Or a dozen other charges if the DA is feeling particularly vindictive.

[] Stick around and explain everything to the police. Maintain that you just happened to ride your bike when you saw the gunfire and intervened.
[] Stick around and explain everything to the police and try to persuade them to leave your name out of any reports. To just put you down as a "Concerned Bystander"
[] Ride out of there.
 
[X] Ride out of there.

and now it's time for the downside of not registering to rear it's ugly head.
 
[X] Ride out of there.

Yeah, I don't see us talking to the police ending well. We can think of something later, right now it's time to ride off into the sunset.
 
[X] Ride out of there.

We can't pretend to be a bystander if we are going to do this often.
 
Question. Do we want to try to go the lawful path and get ourselves registered?
I'm not suggesting one way or another, but as long as you don't have any warrants attached to your name before you register, that is a viable option. However...

I think most quests would prefer to avoid redoing a decision over and over. Until we hit a turning point we're unlikely to consider registering
What veekie said.
 
Headed Back

With a single leap, you hop onto your motorcycle and head back to the mansion. You may not be a criminal in the traditional sense, but there's no way you're talking with the police right now. As you exit the highway and lose yourself down the streets of a residential area outside of Hartford, all you can do is hope that they can keep the hitman you fought behind bars.


……………………………..

As you pull up to the mansion, the sun is starting to rise, casting everything in a bright red haze. At the front door, you see Jasmine standing there, covered in dust, but from the smile on her face, she doesn't seem to mind. As you approach, she holds her arms outwards.


You get off your motorcycle and unsummon your armor. Without any preamble, you run up to her and hug her. She closes her arms around you.


"I can't believe you did it." Jasmine says exuberantly. "I mean, it was our first night, and I thought- well I didn't think that we…"


You let go of Jasmine and playfully punch her in the arm. "You say that like there was any doubt!" You say, matching her excitement.


"It's just that… I was listening to the chatter when you were heading back. The police think the bastard was struck by lightning! An honest to God nat-ur-al lightning strike. And there's already a couple of Youtube videos of the fight!" She says excitedly.


"Hey, it's not like I did this to get famous." You say.


"Well… yeah." Jasmine says. "But still, we did that. It… it's just something to get excited about." Jasmine takes a deep breath to calm herself down, then looks right at you. "You have to tell me everything that happened. I got some of it through the earpiece, but that was just a bit of audio. I want to know what happened."


"Weeeeell." You say, drawing the word out. "I don't know…" Jasmine pouts at you. "Well, alright. Let's get inside and I'll tell you all about it…"


……………………………..


By the time you're driving back home, the sun has been starting to peek out from over the horizon. You're seeing more people on the highway than you would even twenty minutes ago, though it's only a few, ones and twos. You wouldn't see a lot of cars on here for another few hours on a Saturday morning. And that's just fine by you.


But now that you're on the highway headed home in your Sedan, there's an important thing you need to do. Call home to let Adrian know you're not dead. You dial the number for home and wait for your husband to answer.


"We don't want any!" Says the voice on the other side bluntly. You recognize your six year old daughter's voice immediately.


"And what did Daddy tell you about answering the phone?" You say in a faux scolding voice.


"Mommy!" She cheers. "Daddy said you had to go out to work last night!"


"Well, something came up. Mommy had to take care of something, but I'm on my way home right now" You say. You can't exactly tell Gwen about you becoming a Vigilante. She'd probably think it was the greatest thing ever, but, well, there's a reason that heroes, whether they're official or not, tell as few people as possible about what they do.


"Oh, okay" Gwen says. She doesn't lose any pep after. "So, are we still going to see Black Serpent today? "


"Don't worry, we're still going, I promise." You say to Gwen. She's been looking forward to the Black Serpent movie for months. You don't know much about the movie, just that it's about a fictional Vigilante, or rather a group of them taking the same identity, all funded and trained by a billionaire that lost her family. Never mind that most Vigilantes barely have two cents to rub together.

Thankfully, you have two nickels to rub together.

Still, it's been marketed out the ass, and while Black Serpent may be a fictional superhero right now, there's going to be half a dozen copycats around the country in about a month.


"Yes!" Gwen cheers. You can almost imagine her fist pumping on the other end of the line.


"Could you hand the phone to Daddy? I want to say hi to him" You say.


"Alright!" Gwen says. You hear some muffled words. While you're waiting, your eyes wander across the highway. On the service road about a hundred feet to the left, you police cars blocking the two right lanes, going as far as to mark them off with flares. Up ahead of them, the remains of a car is being loaded on a large, flatbed truck so it can be towed away. The car that's being loaded up is a different color and model from the one from last night, so there's no way to know what happened. You quietly hope that whoever was in there made it out alright and pull over a lane to the left. A few seconds later, Adrian picks up the phone.


"Sonya!" He says. You hear worry, and anticipation in his voice. "I… well, I was worried. Are... are you alright?"


"I'm great!" You say. You wince a little from a slight pain in your chest. "Well... not entirely great. I just got a bruised a little." Your ribs are a bit sore from where that guy kicked you, but you've been through worse.


You hear Adrian sigh in relief. "That's good. Did you… was there…" You can tell he's about to ask you about what happened. He can probably guess that you fought someone, but .Still, you can't exactly say what you want to say over the phone. You have no reason to suspect that


"Look, I'll tell you all about it when I get home. I'm about…" You look out the window to see where exactly you are. A landmark to let you know how far you're away from home. But you haven't made it to the city proper yet, so to your left and right are mostly trees blocking your view. But after looking for a few seconds, you see a sign on the road.


CAUTION: DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHICKERS. HITCHHIKERS MAY BE ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENTS.


So that tells you that St. Dymphna's Asylum Mental Institution. At least half a mile from the highway, it used to be plagued by a string of breakout attempts. Sometimes by the same people. But after it was modernized twenty years ago, with state of the art security and, you hope, better treatments, it sits hidden among the trees.


"...twenty minutes from home." You say. "Do you need anything for breakfast?


"No… I've already fixed Gwen breakfast." Adrian says.


"I understand" You say, nodding even if Adrian can't see it. "Hey, I'll see you when I get home, alright?"


"Well, I need to head to the Garage soon…" Adrian says solemnly. "…But I think they can survive without me. I'll see you when you get back" A little bit of happiness returns to his voice. You can't help but smile back


"You got it. Bye Honey." You say.


"Goodbye Sweetie" Adrian says. His voice sounds relieved that you called.


As you hang up the phone, you keep driving. Eventually, the trees give way to buildings again, and once you turn off the highway to the familiar streets of your neighborhood, you start to head home. As you drive, you have the radio turned on. You're vaguely aware that it's some talk show guy whose ranting about how society is collapsing and how the government is going to invade the state and take over by force, but you aren't listening to it. But then, just four blocks from your neighborhood, you come up to a stop light and, without the distraction of driving, you start to pay attention to the radio.


"…these people… the people in charge, they aren't Americans like you and me. If they need someone to fill a job that needs skill, they give out the jobs to metas! And if you want to take an unskilled job to feed our families, they give it to Juan from Mexico, or Guatemala or Colombia or wherever! It's a war on Two. Fronts. ladies and gentlemen. And then when hard working Joe tries to get a job, they tell you, no thanks, we don't need you, or you're asking for to much or you don't have the skills or powers we're looking for. When you speak your mind, or call for law and order, you get called a bigot! Now, I love my country. And I know you do too. But our country is Under. Attack, ladies and gentlemen. Under attack from within. The government wants us weak. They all want us on welfare. They want to take away our independence, they want to make us..."


You shut off the radio as you wait for the light to turn green, when out of the corner of your eye, you see a streak of blue zip through the air. You recognize the figure flying in the air, even at a glance. He is heavily muscled, with a body like a prize fighter which, for all you know, he could have been in civilian life. His costume is blue with gray highlights that almost look like polished metal. His top half of his face is covered by a blue mask with an arrow-like white shape down the middle, leaving his strong, and stubble covered chin exposed. His silver gauntlets and belt have all of his crime fighting tools, less lethal grenades, zipline, prototype lasers, EMPs and half a dozen things you don't know about. He's Corporal Steel, and he's a Cape, an officially licensed hero.


He's flying north, towards downtown, no doubt. Maybe he's stopping a crime. Maybe he's going home. All you know is that he isn't going to land at least until he gets near the river.


Unlike you, Capes have to undergo extensive training, especially if they aren't powered. They also have to go through extensive mental evaluation, especially if they are powered. After that, you get a Flight Rig, a salary, and a handler that tells you where to go and what crimes to stop.


[] I have my own reasons for not going official, but I don't have a problem with Capes in general. They're just doing a job.

[] They're part of the government goon squad. I don't have any respect for them.

[] They're trying to keep the city safe. I have to respect them for that, at least.

[] A few of them are alright, but there are a few Capes that can be real jackasses.

[] I wouldn't mind working with a Cape, if I had the opportunity.
[] With the rules they have to abide, the red tape, and only allowed to stop the crimes they're assigned, I don't even know if they even make a difference in this city.


[] They aren't bad people, but the five seconds that Corporal Steel just spent flying over my neighborhood was more time than any Capes spend down here in the last month.

[] Write in your opinions about Capes.

More than one answer is acceptable.
 
[X] While I admire their drive to do the right thing I cant accept the Gov. limitations and restrictions benefitting the rich and powerful while Ignoring the ones who Really need those heroes.They want to trust the system and either dont realize those flaws or dont care and either way Capes end up not doing what they are meant to which is to say helping those who need it.
 
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