Project Prometheus (Original Setting Superhero Quest)

Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – The French Quarter– December 15, 2067

<"Hmm, and you can start right away?">

<"Yes sir!"> the slip of a boy says with an eager sparkle in his eyes, <"I'm happy to help wherever! You need someone to clean the place top to bottom? Take orders? Bust tables! I'm your guy!">


<"None of that. Your accent is atrocious and your French is barely passable. You can't have you anywhere near our customers. You'll be on dish duty.">

<"Oh . . . in the kitchen?">

<"That a problem, Remy? We've got a dozen other applicants—">

<"N-no sir, dish duty it is!">


<"Remy! Quit wandering around and get back to the kitchen! There's a stack of dishes up to my eyebrows!">

<"Y-yes sir!">


<"Wow, that's a lot of beef. They just delivered like six cows! We gonna use that all?">

<"You get paid to ask questions or something, Remy? Some rich folks are having a big shindig tomorrow night. It's probably for that.">

<"Rich folks? Wow! That's awesome.">

<"Pfft. No, it's not. We're not going to be working it. Big shots always tip well to show off, so little guys like us get shafted. The senior staff gets a windfall, and we miss out on a day's worth of pay. It's bullshit.">

<"So we're not gonna be here at all?">

<"Yep. Now shut up and finish those dishes before the boss fires both our asses!">


<"Hey, boss. I heard there was gonna be some fancy event tomorrow. I kind of need the extra money for my sister's—">

<"What—? Who told you that?! No, Remy, this is a private function with our elite staff only. We must make a good impression, no matter what.">

< "But—">

<"Why would I bring a boy who can't even finish the dishes?! You're lucky we've had a lot of turnover lately or I'd fire you right now! Back to work!">

<"But boss—">

<"Now!>


Handyman's infiltration hit and early snag, he ruefully informs you. It was fortunate that he had been practicing French with Menagerie Witch since he arrived—he likely wouldn't have been hired if he couldn't speak it at all. But despite being fluent, he had been relegated to kitchen duty during the eternity of his shift with very little time for sleuthing.

Handyman did manage to give you a rough layout of Balthazar, however. It was a single-story restaurant with a dining room that seated about two dozen. It had two private dining rooms in the back, and an open-air courtyard with a garden that was used for professional functions. The courtyard connected directly to a private parking lot for customers who wished to avoid the front. The kitchen was on the right side of the building, diagonal from the courtyard itself.

You're pleased with the information, but it is a significant problem that Handyman's cover identity is being excluded from working during your meeting. So, you resort to an old, reliable method of solving problems—cold, hard cash.

A quiet bribe has one of Handyman's co-workers agreeing to not come to work tomorrow, which will allow Handyman to assume his identity. The fellow practically jumped at the chance—apparently "things always get dangerous when metas are involved."

You can't say he's wrong.


You are Handyman.

Well, technically, you're Michelet Samedy, a senior serveur who has worked at Balthazar for twenty years and never received a promotion. The tips must be killer here. Certainly, it's not the cheerful comradery among the staff that's keeping anyone around.

<"Michelet! Michelet! Madam Été and Messieurs Hiver and Printemps have arrived! Do you have rocks in your head?! Go serve them, right now!">

<Oui, chef,> you say, as you move toward the courtyard.

Your accent was still a problem, but Michelet originally spoke Creole instead of French and had a slight accent himself. After an intensive coaching session with Madeline and Chaucer, you managed to get yours to the point where the snoots here couldn't tell the difference between your's and Michelet's.

Heh, Mom was wrong. You could have been an actor!

As you arrive in the courtyard, you see a riot of colorful costumes seated under a gazebo. Été is dressed like a flower on fire—a big, puffy ball gown with all kinds of hues of red, orange, and yellow. Her nose is so high in the air that, if it rained, she would drown, and has a haughty expression that reminds you of that girl your sister wanted you to marry. Ugh.

Printemps looks like a Napoleonic general in bright green, complete with epaulettes on his shoulders. A pink rose is pinned to his jacket as woven branches surround his arms, while his blonde goatee is trimmed into a van dyke. He's laughing boisterously, seemingly at ease.

Hiver by contrast looks positively muted in a white bodysuit adorned with light blue snowflakes. He also looks like he's about to jump off a bridge. Poor guy.

Lady Leizi briefed you on their history. Hiver's power was the only one that didn't match the "seasons" theme. You had autumn breezes, summer heat, spring growth, but winter gravity barriers? Didn't work. His cousin made him brand as "Hiver" regardless, and he's apparently gotten crap about it his whole career.

Again, poor guy.

You approach with all of the dignity you can muster, which earns a sour remark from Été.

<"And just where have you been? We have been waiting!">

<"Apologizes, madam,"> you say, < "I am here with your usual wine, courtesy of the house. And a glass of cognac for the gentleman here.">

Hiver, noticeably, hadn't sent an order ahead. He also hasn't looked at you.

Été takes her wine and scrunches up her nose.<"Ew, disgusting! What is that accent? Do not speak in my presence!">


<"Ah, come now, ma fleur!"> Printemps chimes in, <"The good man is from the colonies! He cannot change the shape of his tongue!">

Actually, you could. Also, the colonies? My guy, that was 250 years ago, not a good look, and, also, you're not actually from France.

<"Ah, did you see the beating the Chevaliers delivered onto the Sonics last night? It was your countryman, Fritz Dorval, with the walk-off hit!"

Huh. You're supposed to be a fancy, stuffed-shirt at a high-end, classy restaurant. But Printemps looks like he wants someone to engage with him. You pause for a microsecond and take a risk.

<"I did. It was a crime to have him languishing in Triple-A ball for so long. Now, we just need them to call up Kumar to fill the hole at catcher, trade for an arm or two for the bullpen, hope DeJesus comes back from Tommy-John's the same, and we can make a real run at the pennant.">

<"Aha!" Printemps shouts triumphantly, "A fellow sportsman! I know you had the look!">

He spends the next twenty minutes talking your ear off about baseball. He's—barf—a Chevaliers fan. You send a silent prayer of thanks to your ol' Pop-pop for every meandering story he ever made you sit through about classic baseball—Printemps is apparently a fiend for this stuff.

You endear yourself to him so much that he waves off the rest of the wait staff who come by. He wants you to serve them all night. You keep your grin to yourself as the other waiters glare at you; maybe if they knew what might go down out here tonight, they wouldn't feel so envious.

During a spirited discussion about Jake deGrom—no, his ring with the Rangers doesn't count if he was hurt during the entire playoffs—Printemps makes a big, sweeping gesture and accidentally tosses his drink all over Hiver. Hiver stands up sputtering, and you seize your opportunity.

<"Ah, sir, allow me to escort you to the restroom to clean up. I must also check on the hors d'oeuvres for Madam Été. The chef has kept her waiting a shamefully long time.">

<"Ah, good man!"> Printemps calls, < "And Hiver, for god's sake, pull it together! You're an embarrassment.">

Hiver doesn't say anything as you shuffle him off the private bathroom for the courtyard. Once you arrive, he looks at you as you don't immediately leave.

<"Umm, you can go now? I'm pretty sure I can wash myself. Also, I have to pee, soooo . . .">

"Lady Leizi sends her regards."

The whiplash in Hiver's face at hearing your natural voice would be hilarious under any other circumstance.

"W-what did you just say?'

"She received your message that this was a trap. Justice Unlimited is coming to save you. Be prepared to act."

A complicated blend of emotions flashes across Hiver's face before he grabs your arm and hisses in your ear. "Tell her not to come. Tell her right now. It's not us behind this: it's Powers. They want to know why Justice Unlimited hasn't collapsed and they want to know what Lady Leizi knows. They won't let her go until they do."

"We have a plan in place."

"Scarlet Maturity is coming. It doesn't matter!" he quietly shrieks, "Give up on me, I'm already dead. Once they find me out nothing will stop them. Just go and tell her not to come!"

Before you can say anything else, a miniature ray of light fires from his hand and gently repulses you backwards. You have to actively catch yourself as you're pushed out of the room. Hiver closes the door in your face.

He doesn't look at you for the rest of the night.


You are Lady Leizi.

Scarlet Maturity is coming.

Hiver's warning, relayed by Handyman, is almost enough to make you cancel the meeting. Almost. If you cancel now, they will know for certain that you were tipped off. It won't be long until they realize Hiver is the leak and plug him.

Permanently.

As you drive to Balthazar, you desperately try to recall what you know about the metahumans of Powers. Their membership was always shifting—fitting for a mercenary outfit—but there were several "core" members who remained consistent:


Scarlet Maturity. The most physically strong metahuman in existence. Could lift skyscrapers with ease. Regenerated so quickly he appeared to not take damage. Super durable. Adapted to harm over time. Twelve-feet tall. Killed Rosemary.

The Giant Slayer. The leader of SLAYERS. Could shrink or grow objects while personally treating them as the same weight and size. Died in the QZ.

Epoxy. Member of SLAYERS. Could permanently stick two objects together on the molecular level, only capable of being separated by her. Also died during the Movement.

Earthen Owl. Could move through soil like water. Prehensile vines growing from his body. New ability to create clones of himself out of vines.

Blue Skies. Hydrokinetic specialized in the ability to manipulate water vapor. Could create and move clouds.

Marrow Spider. Osteokinetic assassin. Most commonly killed targets by firing shards of his own bones out of his body.

Lethal Anodyne. Algernon-type specializing in chemicals that affected the human body. Glorified drug dealer, tended to use neurotoxins in combat.

QUICK GORILLA. A literal orangutan named Peaches. The only non-human example of metahuman powers ever observed. Unparalleled speedster, capable of breaking the sound barrier.

Ronin. Blademaster who gained the martial skills of whoever she killed. Personally destroyed the entire Yakuza presence in Horizon. Generally a pacifist, but recently has seemed to have returned to her previous violent ways.

You also know that Powers has been on something of a recruitment spree lately. The exact number of their new members is fuzzy, but you know they have four new core members for certain:

The Brass Shield. Some sort of power-armor user. No idea if they made the suit themselves or not. Commonly employed hard-light constructs.

Shell Game. Con artist who could swap the positions of two small objects roughly equivalent in mass so long as they were not being directly observed by a living creature.

pHarreit. Capable of extruding acidic and alkaline compounds from her body at will. Arrested for attacking several of her classmates at Stonehaven College, now seemingly free.

The Bloody Slayer. Original leader of SLAYERS who left after disagreeing with the direction of the team. Made weapons out of his own blood.

Anansi. Algernon-type hero who specialized in "computers". Was a friendly rival to Moon River, and former member of New Dawn. Her defection to Powers shocked everyone.

Thirteen. Thirteen active metahumans, including Scarlet Maturity. Not counting the number of mercenaries they could afford to hire. Even if you could get word to Wolong in enough time, they would still outnumber you and New Dawn combined. Not to mention the half of Les Quatre Saisons seemingly allied with them.

You laugh to yourself, tinged with hysteria. Was that all? My goodness, how spoiled you were in your past life! You would learn the daming information and Nora would invent something to solve the problem, or Uiara would give a grand speech and rouse everyone, or Towarri would just glare at it and make it disappear. Now you were responsible for the problems.

You glance at Black Swan and Menagerie Witch, high in the sky, following your plan.

Now, the team is depending on you.


You pull into the back lot of Balthazar and transfer driving permissions to the valet.

"Don't park it far, darling," you say. You'll either not be long or will need to make a fast exit.

"Oui, Madam," he says, bowing and then is off. Another gentleman, the maître d'hôtel, comes and greets you.

"Lady Leizi, it is an honor. Les Quatre Saisons has already arrived. Allow me to escort you."

"Of course. Lead the way."

As he guides you through the garden and into the courtyard, you can't help but notice a large mound of something stacked high across several tables and covered by a white sheet.

"What, exactly, is that?" you question.

"A special request from Les Quatre Saisons," the maître d' replies, "I believe it is part of what they wish to discuss with you."

You nod and follow him as he leads to you a brilliant, white gazebo where Les Quatre Saisons already waits for you. He pulls your chair for you as Été sneers, Printemps bares his teeth in a grizzly smile, and Hiver screams at you with his eyes. You're pleased to see Handyman's cover identity standing nearby, refilling drinks and taking orders.

"Gwendolyn. Jean-Luc. Harrier," you greet each of them in turn. Hiver flinches at his name.

"Do take so familiar a tone with moi!" Été shrieks, "You, who has done so much harm to his family!"

"Presumptions," Printemps says, shaking his head, "But what more can you expect from Justice Unlimited? Or, I should say, what remains of Justice Unlimited?"

"I'll have the moules marinières, thank you," you say to a waiter that isn't Handyman, ignoring the two before you, "And just water to drink. I am driving home."

Été flares her nostrils at you failure to acknowledge her provocations, while Printemps bristles. She opens her mouth again, but, before she can speak, you cut her off.

"Harrier, I wanted to say I'm so, so sorry about Abigail. Joelle sends his love," Hiver flinches at his name again, but some of the panic in his eyes is replaced by pain at your words, "And Ophélie, of course."

"You do not speak her name!" Été shouts, her voice shrill, "It is Justice Unlimited's fault she is dead!"

"I believe that is the Leviathan's responsibility," you say coolly, "Ophélie died a hero protecting this city and someone she loved, while the people who supposedly loved her hide in the FOB."

Été recoils like you slapped her. As she recovers and begins puffing herself up again, you turn back to Hiver. "That does not include you, Hiver. We just had to destroy Floating Venom Morpheme to protect the Apiary. I know how important limiting the Behemoths' entry into the city was."

Hiver doesn't flinch at his hero name. Odd. He gives you a pale nod and flicks his eyes to Été and back. You silently tap your glass of water in acknowledgment.

Meanwhile, Été has worked herself into a proper fit. "Infâme! You—!"

"How much, Été?" you sigh, "Isn't that what this is about? Your sister is gone so you can no longer parade her for money?"

"Arrogant sow! You think this is about money?"

"Isn't it always with you?" you sigh again. Your dismissive attitude is driving Été mad.

"You judge me? You dare, you criminal?! You know not what I've done for my family! You know not what we've been through!"


"My father had my mother killed when I was four. He made sure I knew he did it," you interrupt. Hiver's mouth drops open. "He killed my dog in front of me when I was eight. When I was thirteen he put a gun in my hand, pointed it at a helpless man, and made me pull the trigger."

You stare at Été dispassionately.

"Comparing traumas is a pointless and harmful endeavor. But I know what it means to have a less-than-idea childhood." You take a sip of water. "I have some idea of what was like for Ophélie growing up. Everyone at the Apiary knew, from when she would come to Towarri, sobbing, to get away from you. There was a reason Adamant banned you from the premises."


Telling Été off is immensely satisfying. But, what's more, it baits her into making a mistake.

"You dare speak as if you cared for Ophélie? She would not have been there if it were not for Uiara's message! She would not have been that deep in the QZ if it weren't for that silvery tart!"

You stand up and slam the table with an anger that isn't entirely feigned. Été jumps back while Printemps takes a defensive stance. Hiver just looks confused at the direction this conversation has gone.

"I believe this meeting is over. Goodbye, Été. Contact the Apiary with whatever your ridiculous demands are and then never darken my doorstep again," you turn to Hiver, "Hiver, Joelle sent me with some of Abigail's belongings that she would have wanted you to have. They're in my car. Why don't you escort me and I'll pass them along to you?"

"Y-yeah!" Hiver says. You can see the gears in his mind turning. "T-thanks. I'll, um, just go with you."

"Y-you cannot leave!" Été stutters, looking panicked, "Not yet!"

"You'll find that I can. Goodbye forever, Été." You turn to leave with Hiver in tow, desperately hoping you can just get him to your car and extract him immediately.

But it is not to be.

"You will go nowhere!" Été screams. She waves her hands, and you ready yourself to counter whatever weapon she creates. However, instead of a flaming weapon, an entire battalion of soldiers made of fire surround you, spears pointed.

You take a step back, sparks flying from your hands. Été could not do that before. She could not.

"What is the meaning of this, Été?" you say, voice low and dangerous.

"It is just as my lady-wife has said," Printemps says, rising as well, "The evening is not yet over!"

A yellow mist—no, a cloud of pollen—flies from his hands and into the plants around the garden. They twist, change, and grow into great pillars of chlorophyll, their buds pointed at you, narrowed like cannons.

You hold your breath. Printemps has new powers too. How? From where? You eye Hiver, who is scared but unsurprised. What does he know?

"It is just like Justice Unlimited to leave before the guest of honor arrives," Été sneers.

You see Handyman taking combat position out of the corner of your eye. Good. "And just who would that be?" you ask.

"Ah, I believe that would be me."

From the private parking lot, a very nervous maître d' leads a positively skeletal man wearing a pinstripe suit into the clearing. He's carrying a briefcase and is rail thin, so skinny that his face looks like someone stretched skin over a bare skull. His hair is graying at the temples and parted to the side.

He approaches the table, taking a handkerchief out of his front pocket and wiping down the chair in front of him before sitting. As he does, you can make out a pin on his lapel in the shape of a crescent moon over a crown.

"Please, Lady Leizi. Take a seat," he says, gesturing, "I went through great pains to arrange this meeting."

You don't move. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Just who are you?"

"Ah, how embarrassing," he says in a leathery voice, "My name is Christopher Mason. I am the chief executive officer and founder of Dominion Security Concerns. I am also known by my metahuman appellation: Faust."

A cold and terrible hatred surges through your veins. Here was the man that ordered the metahumans of Powers to not fight in the QZ. It's everything you can to keep your demeanor neutral.

"Well, that's quite flattering Mr. Mason. Unfortunately, Justice Unlimited is not seeking sponsorship at this time. We will, of course, keep you in mind should that change in the future."

He lets out another bone-dry laugh. "Les Quatre Saisons, pay attention. This is how proper banter is done. With wit and just enough venom to bait your opponent into making a mistake."

He places his briefcase on the table and opens it. "Very well, Lady Leizi. I'll skip the pleasantries and get directly to the point. An interested party has contracted Dominion Security Concerns, seeking information about what exactly Justice Unlimited is up to. My client is not used to being ignorant."

He pulls a piece of paper on the table and sets it down, along with a pen.

"To that end, I am here to offer you compensation for the information my client seeks." He turns to Été and speaks. "Gwendolyn, I'm exercising clause seven in your contract and granting you a one time-exemption. Please inform Lady Leizi what my power is."

Été looks annoyed at his tone, but obeys and recites, as if by rote, "The ability to form absolutely binding contracts. Signatories to an agreement will be psychologically unable to contemplate deviating from it."

She narrows her eyes hatefully. "It is why we lured you to this trap that you so foolishly wandered into!"

Faust frowns. "Hmm, I did not give you permission to disclose that. Perhaps it's obvious enough that the contract was not enforced? Hmm. I'll have to double check the exemption clause."

Été pales and is silent for once.

"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. The contracts run two ways. I am as bound by them as you are. Les Quatre Saisons sought money and a comfortable life. So I granted it to them in exchange for all three signing a contract to arrange this meeting, join Powers, and do some odds and ends.

He taps the paper in front of him.

I have another such contract here. To satisfy my employer, I propose a trade: Justice Unlimited will disclose all ongoing activities related to metahuman research, ongoing operations, and any and all research left by Valiant Silver. In exchange, Powers will share with you the results of our own ongoing metahuman development projects. Both parties will agree to cease all hostility for a period of four months. Justice Unlimited will agree to never disclose any information regarding any ongoing projects with Powers. Powers will only disclose the information gained to our client."

You narrow your eyes. "And what will your client do with the information shared with them?"

Faust lets out another quiet chuckle. "I do appreciate a worthy opponent. The client will do whatever they wish with the information we provide."

You glance at him over your sunglasses. "I'm something of an expert at gathering intelligence, darling," you say slowly, "Hardly seems like an equivalent exchange."

Faust nods his head at the point. "Which is why I've prepared an additional incentive."

Several staff members quickly carry over the large, covered tables that you noticed earlier. Faust pulls out a screen, places a call, and holds up his camera.

"Shell Game, if you would?"

The next second, there is a massive displacement of air. The profile of the object under cloth on the table changes. Then, it begins to rise.

He is twelve feet tall, with a leathery skin so tough that it looks like stone. Red veins surge with power all over his body, a bodybuilder's dream, as wicked, red spikes erupt from his joints. His head is like an ox's skull, or a horned monstrosity, just human enough to convey emotions. He moves toward you with a grace something that massive should not have, a bored expression on his face.

Scarlet Maturity. The earth seems to shudder with his presence.

"Carrot-and-stick is such a vulgar expression," Faust says, "But there is something delightful about the image of a creature too stubborn to accept a reward being punished by the very implement meant to deliver its prize."

"Enough sophistry, Faust," Scarlet Maturity, says his voice rumbling like an earthquake, "Say what you mean: I am the stick."

Faust sighs. "Very well, Christian."

He pulls out several vials of a noxious, neon orange liquid out of his briefcase.

"Do not misunderstand, Lady Leizi. We do not mean you lasting harm. I have several vials here of Lethal Anodyne's most potent healing solution. Unfortunately, with his trademark addictive nature. You will have to reach a further accord with him with regard to any future supply."

Your breathing is quick and shallow. Scarlet Maturity is here. Teleported in an instant. Since when has Shell Game been able to do that? Earthen Owl, Shell Game, Été, Printemps, four metahumans all associated with Powers with abilities they should not have.

Scarlet Maturity isn't looking at you. He's bored. He doesn't consider you a threat. He's right. You eye the pen considering your options. As you do, Hiver frantically, but minutely, shakes his head, begging you with his eyes.


Wait . . . wait a second! If Hiver signed one of those contracts, how did he manage to warn you not to come? And why was he so certain he was dead "once they found him out"? Unless . . . unless Hiver has figured out a way to subvert Faust's contract. Unless he already knew everything Powers was up to and was free to share it.

You see his face and you know that must be it. Of course they would kill him as soon as they realized—if only to prevent him from sharing the secret of beating Faust's powers.

Your heart is hammering in your ears. You know Black Swan, Menagerie Witch, and Handyman are in position. But Scarlet Maturity is close enough that he will get one good swing before anyone interferes.

You . . . what do you do?

______________________________________________________________________________

[ ] You sign the contract. You take the carrot.

(Project Prometheus, EXCEED-BEYOND, the Stage, and the true nature of the Apiary will be revealed to Powers. Powers will inform you of their own metahuman development projects. You will not be able to take any offensive action against Powers for three turns.)

[ ] You refuse. Time for the stick.

(Minor Success: DC 12. Moderate Success: DC 15. Major Success: DC 18. HIT 40. Scarlet Maturity's attacks each deal up to three injury levels. Each level of success on the HIT check will reduce the number of injury levels taken by one. Hiver will join the fight and add his stats to Justice Unlimited's. The check will be done with Justice Unlimited's collective HIT. The roll be done with advantage because Hiver is ready to act.)

Hiver:

HIT 7, ESPIONAGE 3, REPUTATION 7, OPERATIONS 6.