Shining Example (WORM ORIGIN QUEST)

Matthew. You haven't seen him in weeks since he left to help rebuild after Symphony. Initially, it was Doctor Mother's idea. If the path had to have everyone looking up to parahumans, a good first step would be supporting the little things.

Like cleaning up after a giant mess that was parahuman attacks, as well as keep track of the new Parahumans that would come out of something like that.

With the rest of you pretty well suited, Matthew jumped at the chance. Last time you checked, he was in New York. Not too far from the start of your patrol route, barely a few minutes out of the way on an average day and a few seconds if you were really pushing it.

Finding him won't take too much time either. Just fly up and look for the giant ball of glowing neon lights.

---

Note to self, ask Rebecca to teach you Latitude and Longitude sometime.

Cause Door's are cool, but without coordinates, they can put you anywhere. Wasn't a problem when Contessa was ready and waiting to figure that out for you. Now, you're on your own, so you've gotta make do with wherever the Door's put you. In this case, when you call for a door, it puts you right where you last used it, right over the waters of Brockton Bay.

On the plus side to the quick door dump, it's only a quick flight north to New York. Shouldn't be too hard to find. Stick by the coast until you see the statue that gets blown up in every disaster movie ever. Do filmmakers need to pay someone to do that? Probably not, but this is the kind of stuff you end up thinking about flying by yourself. Sure you could enjoy the sights flashing by, the same way you might marvel at fields in a car ride.

And as cool as it is, it gets boring with no one around to bounce off of. You usually could head above the clouds and just… watch them go by. You remember flying with Rebecca, bobbing through the giant white blobs and laughing as she came out drenched while you remained bone dry. She chucked you through a cloud a second later.

Still didn't work, pissed her off pretty bad too, so you dropped the waves and fell through anyway. You learned two things. One, your waves don't dry you off when you recoat them, and cloud water is really, really cold. Thought you were going lose your fingers you went so numb.

But forget about frostbite, that little trip showed you something awesome.

With the power of flight came free skydiving trips, and with that, came the real feeling of bliss. The wind rushing through your ears. Feeling your cape whip in the free fall. That giddy feeling in your stomach that made you giggle like a kid.

Unfortunately, you couldn't do any of that today. You keep to the edge, pushing your waves until the noise gets almost intolerable blurring the landscape beside you. But even through the haze of gold, you don't miss it, the City of Opportunity.

At least, that's what Clint called it when he was going over his history course. You've never understood it, LA had plenty of, and when you pointed it out, Clint would sigh and bang his head against his textbook.

Never figured out why he did it. Gave Danah a laugh though.

You pass by the Statue of Liberty and make a beeline to the Empire State building. Because if there's any landmark that you can meet at, it's that building. Biting down the instinct to reenact King Kong, you put yourself a few hundred feet above the central spire.

The view that greets you, oh man, you can't describe it.

A sprawling city, hundreds of buildings holding thousands of people all fighting to get through the day. Looks like it was a pretty busy one as well. All of the traffic formed a literal steel outline around a roped off section of broken buildings. Huge chunks blocked the streets, and whatever construction crew was on the scene hadn't managed to move them.

Hence the road rage, and everyone opting to walk. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight. Despite everything Symphony and All-Father wanted, normal is still going as well as it could. According to Manton, at least one in five of the people down there are parahuman. Yet they walked around, they went to their jobs, lived their lives. The edges of a warzone were just a two-minute walk away, but they did it anyway.

Amazing.

Your ear rings, and a message scrolls past your visor.

You reach to your transceiver with a smile on your face.

"Hey, Matthew."

"Right back at you," Matthew's voice calls, "I got a message saying you'll be around."

You frown, guess Contessa had enough time to text Matthew but no, keeping Doors accurate to where you wanted to go was out of the question.

"Anyway, what brings you to New York?"

"Well I had some time to kill before I started my rounds," You say, "Figured I could stop in, see how you're doing."

He laughs good-naturedly, "Always on the move. Alright, where are you?"

You glance down, a wave brushing you to put yourself right over the central spire.

"Right above the Empire state building."

There's a beat, then you catch a laugh.

"... s-seriously?"

You frown, where is that judgment coming from? It's a perfectly reasonable spot to pick.

"Where else was I going to go?"

The line cuts before you finish talking. Not even a second later, a line of light arcs out of the distance. In a flash of neon, Matthew slows to a stop in front of you. He rolls his eyes, flashing a grin and giving you a quick hug.

"Good to see you, man."

"Could've visited, you're the faster one," you say.

Matthew laughs behind his visor and shakily nods his head.

"Got me there."

You give him a big clap on the back, probably would've knocked him over if you were on the ground cause the wind flies out of him. He glances back with a cheeky grin. He raises one finger, and a quick zap numbs your leg for a second.

"Ugh, real mature," you say, trying to shake off the feeling.

Oh boy, it still feels asleep, that's annoying. Despite your plight, Matthew can't stop laughing. Yeah, really funny.

… okay not gonna lie, you'd probably find it funny. Not that you'll let him know that, so you roll your eyes and glance around.

"So… how is it going?" you ask, "How's dealing with," you gesture over the skyline, "all of this?"

Matthew follows your arm and gives a little shrug.

"It's like any other city, but I've been getting a lot of help," he says quickly, "Even got myself an office."

That throws you for a loop. You glance at him, holding back the mountain of astonishment building within you.

"An office?" you whistle, "Damn you work fast."

Matthew chuckles nervously, "Not like that, it's more of an apartment. A quiet place to recharge when I'm not wearing this thing." he says, pinching at his costume.

You wince, "Washing must be a nightmare."

The living laser actually shivers.

"You have no idea."

"Then don't give me one."

He laughs again and jerks his head towards the south, "Come on, I need a rest."

Without waiting for you, he files off with you hot on his heels. Not his fastest obviously, you probably wouldn't be able to keep up even if you tried. As he was, you can keep up quickly enough as he guides you over the skyline. You head towards downtown, in the shadow of the trade center. On the roof of an office building, you see an intricately painted landing target. Instead of the simple circle, the artist thought it would be good to change up the colors. Gold, black, neon green, white and orange.

And when you get closer, you see that there are portraits in the target. Outlines of all five of you. Charles in his suit sitting around a box of scraps. Rebecca standing atop a building. Matthew backlit by what you think is the sunset. David surrounded by a rainbow of colors. Finally, you, holding up a collapsing Big Ben on your back. Some of the colors are faded, but the entire ensemble is beautiful. The two of you come in for a landing, Matthew a little closer to the roof access letting you savor the view for a little longer. Not long enough as he catches you looking.

"Like it?" Matthew asks.

"It's fantastic."

"Students from the local college put it together," Matthew explains, "Their main campus got pretty messed up during Symphony's riots. A few of them got together and have been 'selling' their work to give the rebuilding efforts a little extra wiggle room," he says heading in.

"I feel like that's illegal," you say, following Matthew through the door.

Matthew purses his lips, "Technically?" he offers.

You shot him a look, only for him to wave it off, "Officially, all the money is donations to the colleges, the art is just the students saying thank you," Matthew says.

You follow him down the last few steps before ending up in the main hallway. Felt like you were stepping into a hotel room, dozens of doors connected to an equal number of rooms. And from the look, this place had gotten the same treatment as the roof. Portraits of sunsets and faces filled every inch of space, nailed into the wall so they could put two rows of them. A few spots are bare, probably the donations that Matthew talked about earlier.

A few rows down, one, in particular, catches your eye. A small black and white picture of a bald boy sitting in a hospital bed looking out the window to the waiting cityscape. He's holding up his middle finger, grinning as best he can despite his life.

"Ah not that one, that one's off limits," Matthew says, grabbing your hand before it can get closer.

You jerk at the sudden closeness. Furthermore, when did you start reaching for it? Matthew's holding you back, but you're inches away. You drop your hand, Matthew chuckling at the embarrassment spreading across you. He gives you a friendly pat that you barely feel as he heads down the hall and into a waiting room.

And you don't know where Matthew was getting the office idea, because the room didn't do a very good job.

A small desk stood out in the center, as well as a filing cabinet next to it, but everything else didn't exactly fit as office material. A refrigerator stashed in the corner right next to a twin size air mattress and a set of suitcases with clothes spilling out of them. A side room leading to a small bathroom while every other inch is covered with paintings. They glisten from the light out of the sole window. Still drying.

"Nice place," you say looking around.

"Like I said, it's nothing big," Matthew says making a beeline to the fridge, "But it's mine until someone forces the police to kick me out."

He opens the door and throws you a can of coke. You catch it with a wave just as he cracks his open.

"I thought you were helping with construction?" you wonder aloud.

Matthew shakes his head behind a quick swig, "Not much to do for someone who can shoot lasers."

"I could think of a few things," you mutter.

"And isn't licensed," Matthew adds, "A lot of people are stretching the law just to let us fly around and help, so I'm not pushing it."

You hold up your hand, but it does nothing to his small frown, only to blink as the light starts reflecting off the drying paintings.

"So you made your one rest stop a drying rack?" you ask, pointing to the paintings.

"You should see the other rooms," Matthew laughs, "Least I could do. While they're doing the heavy lifting."

You blink, holding back a laugh you ask, "Heavy lifting?"

Matthew nods, "Yep. Those students that I was talking about? A good chunk of them got together and have been working everywhere while their classes get relocated. Chief among that work being volunteering at shelters."

"I didn't think Art students would jump at this kind of work," you say.

Matthew shrugs, "I wouldn't either, but what else are they going to do? Classes are up in their air, and they've got nothing better to do."

You glance at the paintings.

"Even that gets boring," Matthew chides.

"Didn't say anything."

Matthew rolls his eyes, "Sure you didn't. Anyway, whatever job they get they're throwing their paintings around. Something about getting their names out there, but that's any college student these days."

You smile, good for them.

"So while they're doing the 'heavy lifting,'" you snort, Matthew ignores it, "I'm heading between police dispatches if the Musicians come calling, or I'm flying over to the hospitals and talking to all the fresh triggers."

There it was. The biggest reason Rebecca wanted Matthew to make this a two person job. Fresh triggers, not knowing what their powers are, or what to do with them. You remember Megan, sitting atop that building in the middle of London. You don't know how many people live in New York, but even the small percentage that became parahumans is still a scary number. New York made Brockton bay look like a tourist stop after all, and that place had enough parahumans to fill a casino.

"You doing alright?" you ask.

"Me?" Matthew smiles, "Oh, I've been doing great."

He… wait what?

Matthew stops his drink to stare blankly at your surprise.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"All the fresh triggers?" you repeat.

"Yeah, so?" he points out.

"You aren't…" you stop, searching for the word, "I don't know, stressing out about anything?"

Matthew stops, pondering your question for a moment.

"I mean, I got stabbed a week ago, but that healed up pretty quickly."

Not really what you were going for, not at all what you were going for actually. You were expecting him to be overwhelmed but holding on. Barely an hour after waking up from London and the first trigger that you encountered was someone ready to jump off a building she was so scared. All the trama, the new powers and how to deal with them, it was way too much for one guy.

At least, that's what you thought. Instead, Matthew looks no worse for wear. You don't know if he's hiding anything. He... he could just be perfectly fine without any help.

… good for him.

"In any case," Matthew says, "New York hasn't been too bad to me. Not too many parahumans messing up with you and David flying around."

He takes a drink and the can flashes white before turning to dust in his hands, freeing him up to grab a fresh one as he nods your way.

"Thanks for that by the way."

"No problem," you say, tossing back your drink.

Matthew barely catches it. He looks at you quizzically, you shake your head. You're not thirsty anymore.

"If you're good." Matthew trails off, putting the drink back.

"I am," you say, "Anyway I got to go. Shift starting and all that."

Matthew gives you a long look, his eyes darting to the clock on his desk. You shrug, and Matthew scoffs a little. Smirking, he cracks open another one.

"And I'm the workaholic," he fake grumbles.

You roll your eyes and very nearly throw him a particular finger. When you don't, Matthew laughs and waves you off.

"Get going."

You wave back, "I'll drop by sometime soon."

"Until then," he says, leaving you to head towards the door, "Wait wait, one thing."

At that moment, you hear the wall calling for you, begging you to bash your head through it. You glance back, and the shit-eating grin on Matthew's face makes the call grow ever louder.

"Don't worry, it'll be quick," Matthew promises.

You frown, but it cracks immediately. Leaning against the wall, you shrug, "Alright, what do ya got?"

The edges of Matthew's lips twitch up, but he clamps down on it quickly.

"First off, have you been keeping up with Manton's work?"

You shake your head. You know that he got his paper published and every university was trying to get a hold of him to hold a talk. The guy pretty much invented an entire branch of science, not that you've read any of his papers.

Those things are like, two hundred pages long, and half of it is stuff that you can't even pronounce much less understand.

Either way, Matthew takes it in stride.

"Well, long story short, fresh triggers, in general, tend to lean towards whatever allows them to use their powers. Most of the time that could be something as simple as going out and wrecking the place or just causing a little trouble around the house. Since you and David have been flying around, most seem to be going for the later unless they think they can take you."

He pauses.

"Speaking of that, David told me something about an RPG?"

"One time," you say, raising a finger, "One time."

Matthew holds up a hand, "Okay okay, I believe you."

"Sure," you drawl.

Matthew notches an eyebrow, waiting for the chance to keep going. You zip your mouth shut, and he looks like he's holding back a sigh.

"Anway, from what I've seen, people either want me to get rid of their powers, which I can't do, use them to break something. Take a guess how that works out for us," Matthew says.

You don't have to, you'll probably have an example to deal with it in an hour.

"Or, last but not least, they want to use them in non-combat settings. And honestly, I can't blame them. Being able to picture things perfectly doesn't really help you in a fight. So I figured, try and make something that will get them hired somewhere else. Basically, we make a career fair system to get people in the workforce if they need help. "

You nod along. You can see where he's coming from. Not everyone is going to want to put on a costume and go out fighting. Heck if you had Number Man's power, you'd probably start a business somewhere and stay out of the way. Getting people out there could do some good.

"I'll have to run the legal stuff past Rebecca," you say, "But I like the sound of it. Nice idea."

Matthew frowns, eyes widening a second later.

"Oh, it wasn't my idea."

You pause, "Then whose was it?"

As if on cue, a voice calls from the other end of the building. "Legend!"

That voice, you know that voice. You hadn't heard it in months, but it's like music to your ears.

"Are those orders finished? I've got a real piece of work asking for a rush…delivery."

It trails off, you turn to the door, and what you see makes your eyes start to water.

She cut her brown hair, keeping it short on one end with the rest of it covering her eye in a cute little peak. A white LA emblazoned jacket hung loosely over her shoulders, and a set of pink hoops hang from her ears.

Danah Everett stands star-struck in front of you. She points to you, then Matthew then back to you. He nods, a wry smile, and Danah's jaw drops.

"Danah, this is Atlas, Atlas, this is Danah," Matthew says, "She's been the brains organizing all these paintings."

The comment snaps both of you out of it. You out of your surprise and her out of what you think is admiration. Not knowing any better you hold out a hand. She stares at it and then quickly takes it, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's… nice to meet you, Danah," you say.

"It's nice to meet you too! Oh my gosh, I'm a huge fan."

Fan? Your sister was your fan?

"Really?" you laugh.

"Well," Danah says bashfully, "Not really me, my husband is."

Your smile drops off of your face.

Husband?

You… you didn't hear that. Some slip, some joke.

"I'm sorry," you say, your voice a calm that you can't feel, "Husband?"

Danah beams, and displays her hand. Over her finger is a little silver band with a shining crystal in the middle. It's… beautiful.

But… when did she get it?

And why didn't you know?

"It's not the biggest thing, but size doesn't really matter here does it?"

"You're a bit young," you hear yourself say.

Danah has enough sense to look bashful, shrugging and smiling away.

"Yeah, 19 is a little young nowadays."

She's 17.

"But hey, when it's love," she beams, the happiest you remember seeing her, "You can't wait."

"No, you can't," you say, but there's nothing in it.

Danah nods slowly, "Uh, okay. Thanks for," she stops, giving a little shrug, "Saving everyone?"

"I wasn't going to let it burn."

Danah's chuckle sounds forced, even to you. Her grin is almost nonexistent now, and she's shuffling back.

"Well ah, nice meeting you?" she offers.

"You too." you deadpan.

She tries to laugh again, her eyes darting to Matthew. He coughs and takes a long drink looking anywhere but at you two.


Chose one major option, and one from each teir:
[] Take off your mask. This doesn't have to go on for any longer than it has to, and it's been too long.
-[] Make the conversation private. Matthew is a friend, but he didn't need to be here
-[] Let him stay. If Danah asks anything, he can fill in the blanks where you can't.
--[] Ask why she's been working, she never wanted to do anything like this before.
--[] Ask her if she's been safe. The worlds changed, and you wouldn't be much of a big brother if you didn't ask.
--[] Ask about her... husband. Does Clint know? Does Dad?
--[] Write in

[] Keep your mask on. Clint nearly broke in front of you. Danah... doesn't need to know.
-[] Leave the city, just go on your shift before you make things worse here.
-[] Stay, and ask Matthew if you can help do something.
--[] Have him tell you more about the parahuman situation in the city. You don't believe that things are quiet in New York of all places.
--[] Ask about the musicians, how many there are and if you need to stay to make sure things stay as quiet as he says.
-[] Write in