[X] Plan: Heart & Numbers
-[X] [MISSION 1] The Dragon of the New Dawn AP 2, ESPIONAGE 4, REPUTATION 5, OPERATIONS 3
-[X] [MISSION 2] Who's Left Behind AP 2, HIT 6, ESPIONAGE 5, REPUTATION 4
-[X] [MISSION 3] Drove Through Ghosts to Get Here AP 1, HIT 9, ESPIONAGE 7, REPUTATION 5, OPERATIONS 11
-[X] Total AP & Hero: 5 AP, 15 Hit, Espionage 25, Reputation 14, Operations 14
-[X] Personal Actions:
-[X] Lady Leizi: A Face that Toils So Close to Stones is Already Stone Itself (REPUTATION)
-[X] Black Swan You're Not My Real Dad!
-[X] Menagerie Witch: Madeline-Bowl LVIII
-[X] Handyman: Who Doesn't Love a Power Testing Scene?
-[X] A Spoonful of Sugar (John Henry)
The cursor on your screen blinks at you. Mockingly. You grit your teeth and force yourself to write something. Then you delete it. You try again only to stop midway because everything you could say feels trite.
Leviathan's Blood, why was this even necessary?
Oh, right. This was why.
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Welcome to the Hero for Hire official message boards!
You are currently logged in, Lady_Leizi_Official.
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♦ Topic: Justice Unlimited . . . Lives?
In: Boards ► ►Recent Events
Sweetwoman (Original Poster)
Posted On Nov 19th 2067:
So it seems like Justice Unlimited isn't defunct after all? The Worker's Mitt just announced they renewed their contract with them. Did anyone in the area see any of them? Am I wrong to hope here?
(Showing page 1 of 89)
►MsPiggie
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
Can confirm!!! They cleared out the shadow birds that were wrecking downtown. Don't ask.
►Sweetwoman (Original Poster)
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
Well, now I HAVE to.
►YeehawBody
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
It's just Lady Leizi now. Apparently everyone else died in the QZ. They've got a new member, though. It's a flier named Black Swan who can shoot lasers apparently.
►DrFartDFA
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
what?! no valiant silver, no uiara, no adamant, its not REALLY justuce unlimited!!! fakers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
►ReiofSunshine
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
They're real enough to take out all of those birds. And their new member is tough. Mona's basically Novalight Jr. now.
►Anansi (Moderator) (Powers) (Verified User)
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
Is her identity public? You shouldn't dox her otherwise.
► YeehawBody
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
Wait, "Powers"? Since when is Anansi on Powers? What happened to New Dawn?
►ReiofSunshine
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
She took off her mask during a town meeting at the Worker's Mitt and told everyone it was her. She apparently has had her powers for a few years now and was getting training under the guise of an "internship."
►DrFartDFA
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
i dun care, she's fake TOO!!!! Only realy heroes left r POWERS!!! EARTHEN OWL ROCKS!!!!!!!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 87, 88, 89
(Showing page 2 of 89)
►TaurusKiss
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
Found the Earthen Owl burner.
►REALEarthenOwl (On Parole - Justice Unlimited) (Powers) (Verified User)
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
No, that's not me! Seriously, who would even do that?!
And Black Swan is the real deal. She and I had an epic confrontation outside the OID and after a hard-fought battle I saw the potential in her. She's earned my respect.
►MsPiggie
Replied On Nov 19th 2067:
"(On Parole - Justice Unlimited)"
I think she did more than earn your respect!
►AmbiguousHinderance
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
So here's what I think happened:
Justice Unlimited is the first to respond to the QZ when the Leviathan starts moving (sidenote: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH). They hold their rookie back because she's not ready and so they have someone in the wings if they all fall.
Everyone but Lady Leizi gets taken out. We know Lady Leizi doesn't have any defensive powers, so she probably wasn't on the front lines. She gets their rookie and starts to rebuild Justice Unlimited.
What's the first thing any rebuilding organization needs? Money. It makes sense because, Uiara gone, I don't know if they're getting any funds from the Oliveira family anymore. I certainly doubt Jair Oliveira would want to keep funding them.
Taking out the birds in the Worker's Mitt both accomplishes this and lets the world know that Justice Unlimited is back. It kills two birds with one stone (pun intended).
►LunarCrystalY
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
but why hasn't lady leizi said anything? it was super scary when they all just disappeared
►EphemeralIgnorer
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
It is super weird. Then again, she was always the "hatchet woman" of Justice Unlimited. Maybe she's not in charge? But who is? The rookie?
►Ellie_Starfish23
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
Does anyone know if anyone else survived the QZ? Did Heavenly Astrologian?
►Legf202
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
youve been asking that in every thread. did you know her or something?
►DrFartDFA
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
POWERS rules!!!! justic unlimited died they r sooooooo limited lolololol
►TSIU_Buy
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
ok this is awkward. i have a bunch of nsfw art of uiara i was commissioned to draw that i havent posted yet. it is weird if i do???? valiant sliver paid for it all if that helps
►LunarCrystalY
Replied On Nov 20th 2067:
wait, so is justice unlimited back or not?
You should have seen this coming. Of course all metahuman contracts were publicly recorded. Of course everyone would see when the Worker's Mitt renewed with Justice Unlimited. And of course it would invite all kinds of speculation.
You need to make an official statement of some sort. Or at least say something, anything! But you just can't. This was never your forte. You always used to pawn this kind of duty off on Yazmin or Harper or, in a pinch, Rakeem. You hated being in the public eye on anything but your own terms.
Which was probably why no one was willing to trust you now. You sigh. This is the bed you've made, now you must lie in it, you suppose.
To give yourself a break, you turn your attention to Dr. Ibis' notes on Handyman's recent power testing.
Power-Testing of Codename "Handyman"—Notes of Dr. Mammoth Ibis—Log #7:
Handyman saw a substantial increase to his combat potential today, simply by overcoming a mental block. He was too used to thinking of himself as "human-shaped" with two legs and two arms connected to a torso. His body is capable of infinitely more complex configurations. We started slowly by having him grow an extra set of arms and try those in combat. He quickly proved adept, so we tried more and more radical shapes. By the end of testing, it was comfortable assuming a number of non-human forms in combat and freely moving between them, as well as moving in a number of "unnatural" ways including rotation 360 degrees at the torso.
Truly, it was a sign to behold seeing Black Swan running away from an eight-legged horse with wings, crab claws, and a bone-bastilla growing out of its back. Perhaps not the most efficient shape, but definitely inspiring.
Power-Testing of Codename "Handyman"—Notes of Dr. Mammoth Ibis—Log #14
Testing the limits of Handyman's regeneration took up the better part of the day, but it's fortunate we went through the steps we did. Notably, we discovered a significant weakness in Handyman's regeneration—he must regenerate his body as "clay" before then changing it to another form. Put differently, he can't heal and transform his body at the same time.
With that said, his regeneration is impressive. He's able to absorb small arms fire without much effort, and large explosives can scatter his body but not destroy it. Blunt force trauma is wholly ineffective in his malleable state, as are piercing weapons. Black Swan's "finger-gun" attacks were similarly ineffective, though when she"put a whole arm into it" Handyman's body began to dissolve. He should be especially wary of powerful energy attacks.
Power-Testing of Codename "Handyman"—Notes of Dr. Mammoth Ibis—Log #15
Who was going to tell me that we hired Natalie Rhodes and not Natasha?! Now I will have to apologize to both of them when I see them! I tried apologizing to John Henry over the mix up, but he didn't respond. Is my new BFF mad at me?! Is this our first fight?!
* * *
You feel the uncouth urge to being bang your head against the table. How . . . how has no one told Dr. Ibis yet? How could he possibly not know?
You suppose there hasn't been time for a memorial. You think of the problems surrounding you and you're not sure if there ever will be time for one.
. . . you're stalling again. Lei Zixuan, you are more than capable of writing a post on a messageboard! You're not as pathetic socially as Dr. Ibis, are you?
. . . are you?
DC 6.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 3. Lady Leizi has a REPUTATION 3.
You rolled: 6.
6 + 0 = 6. Success!
You are not.
It's not profound. It's not elegant. But it's done and you can click post and allow yourself a break. You hear laughter from the entertainment room down the hall. It seems everyone is watching that ridiculous magical maid television show.
Everyone used to make you watch braindead television back then too, didn't they? Rakeem loved his baseball, and Nora and Rosemary would sit and watch every new season's release of anime to find the gems and laugh at the "garbage". They once literally tied you down and made you watch a show about a boy who was the very definition of "mediocre", yet all varieties of women would throw themselves at him. You finally had enough when he tripped and accidentally sexually assaulted a schoolgirl for the dozenth time. You still have the photo of Nora's hair and Rosemary's fur all standing up on edge after you electrocuted them.
Good memories. It was a happy time. Your happiest time. You hear a booming chuckle from Rhys, a giggle from Mona, and a quiet laugh from Maddie.
"Akira-kun, no! Monica-chan loves you! She can't transform if she thinks you hate her!"
You smile and then get up to go join them. Perhaps these can be good times as well.
* * *
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Lady_Leizi_Official (Justice Unlimited) (Verified User)
Posted On Nov 20th 2067:
Justice Unlimited carries on. We mourn those who have fallen, and carry on in their stead.
Justice Unlimited is dead. Long live Justice Unlimited.
Alright, so had an idea for a potential candidate, so I'm gonna create one.
Candidate S: Name: Jason Carpenter Age: 24 Stats: HIT 2, ESPIONAGE 2, REPUTATION 1, OPERATION 6 Tolerance: 5 Chauser's Notes:A Horizon native who had recently returned after studying abroad, Mr. Carpenter somehow found managed to find our base and came to us with hand-drawn maps of the city down to some of the smallest details, as well as some home-made gadgets. Requesting to join the organization in the hopes of becoming a hero. Apparently he planted the foundations for an entire vigilante career since he was a preteen, but slowly losing confident as time went on. He apparently has a ed belt in Karate, took archery classes and learned how to use handguns while abroad, where he studied engineering and chemistry. He also seems to be rather altruistic, meaning he might have potential as a member, but his nervousness around women is noteworthy. Lady Leizi:Mr. Carpenter seems capable when it comes to gathering intel, as his hand-drawn maps of the city had some notes that would imply that he went to the streets himself to assess the situation. His combat skills are moderate at best but have some level of versitility and apparently his home-made gadgets seem rather interesting. He also seems to have a desire to help, as he still isn't aware of the program yet wants to help in any way he can. He does seem rather nervous around women, though. That is something needed to be fixed.
So what do you guys think? Should I change some of the stats based on the description I gave or is this solid?
Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – The Worker's Mitt– December 9, 2067
Your base on Jacob's Ladder has served you admirably, but it never meant to be a long-term solution. It was a bolthole, for use during an emergency. Now, between yourself, the other metahumans, the support staff, and miscellaneous guests like Black Swan's mother, you've hit the limit of what the base can support. The wait time for the bathrooms alone have made the situation untenable, let alone the fact that someone is going to notice if you divert any more water or power from the Ladder.
No, you need more space among many, many other things. Which means, it's time to go home: to the Apiary.
The base was named for the first member of Justice Unlimited to fall in the line of duty—the only member to fall until recently. It is a gargantuan building, a white dome on the surface that extends deep underground. It lay on the outskirts of the Worker's Mitt in the untamed areas that were still rich with vegetation. A great reflecting pool lies in front of the entrance of the building with a statue of Rosemary at the opposite end. Around the building there was a manicured garden open to the public, and Uiara had somehow gotten PubTrans to add a stop nearby. The end result is that the outside of the Apiary was always teeming with people coming and going, and you made a hefty profit renting out the nearby land to shop-owners.
Not too hefty, however. Nora had a thing about being "a goddamn landlord."
From your vantage point overhead, the area around your old home is unrecognizable. The garden is overgrown, there are no people around, and the area feels . . . abandoned.
You've been gone too long.
You are currently in the air, riding on the back of one of Menagerie Witch's shadow birds. It is roughly the size of your car and seated yourself and Menagerie Witch comfortably. Handyman was heavy enough to warrant his own bird, and Black Swan was flying along under her own power.
Planning on how to get to Apiary had initially been something of a problem—the roads still hadn't recovered so your car was out, and PubTrans was no longer servicing the stop. Finally, Menagerie Witch has volunteered to make constructs capable of carrying everyone and practically begged to do so . . .
DC 8.
Stat Check: OPERATIONS 15. Justice Unlimited has a collective OPERATIONS 19.
You rolled: 2.
2 + 2 = 4. Failure!
. . . and you had seen no reason to not take her up on her offer. After much cajoling, Menagerie Witch finally agreed it wasn't safe to fly Barkavious Rex and left him behind with Black Swan's mother, Marisa. She contented herself with Apep and Mittens on her hat and Nevermore flying nearby.
"Woah," she says looking down, "It's so big."
"Yes," you say fondly, "I lived there for ten years and I'm certain there are parts I never stepped foot in."
You had definitely never been in the room with the Contingency. Or Nora's true lab, which she guarded jealously. Harper's room either—she never let anyone in for reasons that you understand all too well now. You're idly wondering if your room is in the same condition as you left when you see it: a colossal scyphozoa monster floating overhead.
Floating Venom Morpheme looks like an unholy combination of a squid and jellyfish, drifting on the wind. Its body was a transparent, umbrella-shaped mass filled with a shifting liquid. Through its body, you could see the hazy impression of organs inside. On the edges of its main body were twelve symmetrically placed tentacles that streamed behind it, layed with rows and rows of sharp-toothed mouths.
Its very appearance fills you with a deep revulsion. You've always hated Behemoths, but that hatred has only increased exponentially after the Movement. Behemoths came in four varieties: Bronze-rank Behemoths were little more than animals. Silver-rank Behemoths were bigger, larger, and often had odd mutations. Gold-ranks were larger still, but smart. And Named-Rank Behemoths? Bigger, stronger, smarter, and stranger with metahuman-equivalent powers.
It was Named-Rank Behemoths that one must be wary of. For, despite all the horror of it so much as twitching, the Leviathan itself did very little damage when it tried to awaken. No, nearly all of the deaths came from the Behemoths that were whipped into a frenzy.
What you remember most is the noise of the fight, a combination of screaming, challenges, barks, growls, roars, squeaks, squeals, burbles, and every sound in between. There were thousands upon thousands of them, creatures changed and warped into something twisted and alien. They moved across the ground like a living tide and darkened the skies. You were worse than useless, actively distracting other heroes who would try to save you. Though it ripped your heart in two, you pulled back to FOB to help with overwatch. That's why you had a view of everything.
Only King, Scarlet Maturity, and Towarri seemed to be able to make a dent in their numbers. King would have his hands and legions of them would scatter into dust or explode with nuclear force. Scarlet Maturity would let them bite into him and then annihilate them with titanic blows that made the earth shake. Towarri created the largest black hole you've ever seen, the orb of anti-light hungry and swallowing Behemoth after Behemoth.
Then the R-Train came, and for a second you felt hope. The titantic myriad arrived, synthesizing unit after unit. A platoon of bipedal robots the size of skyscrapers marched forward in a swath of destruction in defiance of the square-cube law. Wicked drones in the shape of a sphere with cruel, whirling blades reduced living creatures to red mist. Tripods taller than the Leviathan raided death down from the heavens. And then the tide reversed. You were pushing them back, moving ever closer to the Looming God who sought to re-enter the world.
Then it all went wrong.
Two voices screamed in your head with the low boom of the Leviathan, one high and sweet, full of rage, the other confused and hurt and trying to still troubled waters the way you smoothed out wrinkles on a sheet. There was a fourth, too disgusting to remember. Then, King was suddenly gone. The left flank collapsed and the last time you ever saw Towarri was behind a swarm of beaks and flesh as Automne tried to keep her safe in vain. A creature that was little more than maw with hands crawling out of it dragged Uiara underneath goldnine-tainted waters. And Nora, Nora who should have never been there, might have saved you all but disappeared, surrounded by a frenzy of rampaging monsters for her trouble.
"Lady Leizi . . . are you okay?" Menagerie Witch's worried voice shakes you out of your reverie. Oh. It appears you were gripping your arm so tightly you drew blood. How embarrassing.
"I'm alright, darling. I just find the sight of that thing disgusting," you reassure her. Then, over your comm, you add, "Black Swan. Remove it from my sight."
"You got it boss-lady! One order of fried calamari, coming up!"
DC 10.
Stat Check: HIT 5. Black Swan has HIT 9.
You rolled: 9.
9 + 2 = 11. Success!
Black Swan fires a blast that streaks across the sky and strikes Morpheme directly where one of its tentacles connects to its body. The abomination has nothing resembling a mouth, but you can tell that hit did damage as it turns cherry red and begins pumping its body to get away. As it does, a jetstream of effervescent bubbles erupt behind it.
Minor Success: DC 5. Moderate Success: DC 10. Major Success: DC 15.
Stat Check: OPERATIONS 10. Justice Unlimited has a collective OPERATIONS 19.
You rolled: 10.
10 + 4 = 14. Moderate Success!
The creature's appellation flashes through your mind: Floating Venom Morpheme.
"Don't touch the bubbles!" you scream.
Thankfully, the rest of your team is as aware of the obvious as you are. Black Swan effortlessly weaves through the bubbles as she approaches Morpheme. Menagerie Witch brings Nevermore close and has her shadows take a route to circumvent the stream—you won't be with Black Swan, but you'll be safe. Thankfully, of everyone here, you have the least worry for Black Swan's ability to remain safe.
And then it all goes wrong again.
As Morpheme gets closer to the Apiary, just above the very top, Black Swan suddenly seizes in the air. She grabs her head with a prolonged scream before going limp and falling.
"Kid!" Handyman yells. You try to tell him to focus—the impact won't harm Black Swan after all—but before you can he jumps from his bird and into the sky. As he falls, he stretches his entire body into a wing-shaped glider to control his falls with only his head poking out the top indicating he was ever human.
Minor Success: DC 5. Moderate Success: DC 10. Major Success: DC 15.
Stat Check: HIT 8. Handyman has HIT 7.
You rolled: 4.
4 + 0 + 1 (EternalObserver) = 5. Minor Success!
Handyman takes one injury level! Superficial Injury!
As Handyman glides, he accidentally clips a bubble with one of his wings. The bubble turns the same shade of red as Morpheme before detonating with the force of a bomb. As it does, it releases a silvery mist that is carried away by the wind and triggers all the bubbles near it. They in turn detonate, setting off the bubbles near them and soon the sky is filled with a deafening chain of explosions.
Handyman narrows his body and accelerates to catch up with the falling Black Swan. Just as she is about to hit the ground, he grabs her and shields her fall with his body with a terrible splat.
"Down," you tell Menagerie Witch who is shaking with wide eyes. You grab her shoulder and speak in a steady, calm voice. "The fall can't hurt them, Maddie. However, it can hurt us. Down please. And gently."
Menagerie Witch steadies herself and nods. It's an agonizingly slow process, taking care again to avoid the fleeing Morpheme, but as you get closer, you see someone has beat you to the unconscious forms of Black Swan and Handyman.
It's a tall, willowy figure, wearing a white lab coat, white slacks, a red blouse, and a red and white mask over their mouth. Atop their head is an explosion of brown curls. Your jaw drops as you recognize them.
"They're fine, if you are wondering. I am too, not that you asked," grumbles Mendicant, the greatest metahuman healer in the world, "Now, have you figured out your mistake? Was approaching the Named-Rank Behemoth head on an eensy-tiny bit stupid? Maybe? Yes. I'll answer my own question: yes it was and you're stupid."
"Uh . . ." you say, too stunned to form a coherent thought.
"Oh good, you actually are stupid. I was gonna feel bad calling you that if you weren't, but you are, so I don't. Now, follow me!" they say walking toward the Apiary, "Hey everyone! The fucking landlord is here!"
* * *
You are Mona Merola-Morales.
You have no idea where you are. It's a room of some sort? Okay, it's definitely a room—come on, Mona!—but it looks like a child's bedroom. It would be cozy with its warm colors, comfortable-looking furniture, and many, many toys. Would be, that is, if it hadn't looked like it had been destroyed. The wallpaper was all torn, the bed and desk were in tatters, the toys shattered like they were thrown against the wall. The curtains were all drawn and the room was so dark you could hardly see. It felt like a crypt, or a funeral.
Like someone was mourning.
In the center of the room is a figure. A golden silhouette, fuzzy around the edges that is hunched over and playing with seven dolls.
You, uh, try to leave. Why do people in horror movies never just leave?! But the door won't open and you'll have to walk by the figure to get to the windows. So you hold your breath, get on your tip-toes and try to sneak by.
As you do, you notice the dolls the figure is playing with. Two are set off to the side, lying on their backs, untouched. One is of a woman in red leather with a cat-inspired mask, the other a muscular man made of a bronze-orange metal.
Wait. You stop and look closer at the other five dolls. The figure is actively moving them around, posing them as if they were about to speak. It holds one up to it's . . . ear? Face? And says still for a moment. Then, after a moment, it pounds its fist in frustration and moves onto the next doll.
You look, and yep, you totally called it. There is a doll of a woman in silver armor, a doll in blue spandex, a doll of a silver woman in a dress, a doll of a translucent, green figure with short hair, and a very familiar doll of a Chinese woman with badass sunglasses and a killer outfit.
It's the original line-up of Justice Unlimited. Or, almost, wait . . .
"Where's Apiary?" you say out loud.
The figure's head whips toward you.
"Aww, crapbaskets," you breathe, "You're not gonna get all existential and spooky on me, are you? Come ooooon, I'm cute!"
The figure covetously clutches its dolls closer and shies away from you. You consider making a dash for the window but, no, you should probably see wherever this is going.
"Hey," you say drawing closer, "I like your dolls. Is that Justice Unlimited? They're my favorite too! I owe alllllll their merch!"
The figure looks no less wary, but releases its grip a bit.
"Yeah, that's Uiara, Vailant Silver, Radiant Silvergirl, Moon River, Lady Leizi . . . and Adamant and The Red Huntress all the way over there. Are you having fun playing with them?"
The figure looks down and slowly shakes its head.
"Aww, bummer! Why not? You want me to play with you? Can I be Valiant Silver?! She's my favorite . . . umm, don't tell Lady Leizi."
The figure tilts its head and holds out the doll of your boss.
"Yeah, Lady Leizi . . . um, okay, I have a secret, but don't tell anyone," you say looking side to side. The figure leans in slightly, "Ummm, I'm a member of Justice Unlimited."
The figure recoils and shakes its head in disbelief.
"No, it's true! Lady Leizi's my boss and everything! My name is Black Swan, cute warrior of justice!" you say, posing extra adorably, "I'm new after . . . after everyone else died."
The figure clutches the five dolls to its chest and looks sadly at the two sitting to the side. Then, suddenly, it leans very, very, very close. It smells like honey and sunshine. It studies you then nods its head. It leans back and gets up and goes to a drawer where it rummages around for a second before pulling something out and shoving it in your hands.
It's a security badge on a lanyard. It reads "Black Swan — Provision Justice Unlimited Member."
"Wait, provisional?!" you say, indignant, "I'm a full member!"
The figure crosses its arms and tilts its head. If it had a nose, it'd be looking down it at you.
"Fine, fine, whatever. You'll be sorry when I do a press conference or something!"
The figure silently snarks at you for a second more before sitting back down with its dolls. It looks at them for a long second, before lifting the one shaped like Lady Leizi and pressing it into your hands.
It isn't looking at you.
"Do . . . do you want me to take care of her?"
It nods.
You smile and hug the figure. It tenses for a second before melting into your embrace. "I promise."
The figure bobs its head twice and then gets up. It pulls out a broom from . . . somewhere and starts tidying up.
You look at the doll of Lady Leizi. It's surprisingly accurate, right down to the glasses. "Do you want me to help?" you ask the figure.
It shakes its head.
"Okay! Guess I'll just wait here until I wake up or something." That lasts about a minute before you get bored. "Hey, can I ask a question?"
The figure makes a gesture that somehow conveys, "You already did."
"Hey, don't be a smarty-pants with me! I wanted to ask, where is Apiary? You have everyone else."
The figure tilts its head in confusion and scratches the side of its face.
"Y'know Apiary! Rosemary Ward. Where is Apiary?"
The figure tilts its head further and then walks over and grabs your wrist. It drags you to the window and pulls the curtains, temporarily blinding you. When your vision clears, you see the shining dome of the Apiary in the distance.
The figure points to the building then back to itself. Then it points to the building again and then back at itself.
You pause to consider this.
"Wait, what the fudge?"
* * *
You awaken to the sounds of voices.
"—so, yeah, I was at the QZ, doing my part, and good thing I was because when I got home someone had wrecked the place. My security system took most of them out, but they were still there and all 'Mendicant we will exploit your ability to heal for profit' and I was all 'I'm gonna blow up the house with you in it'. Then I did."
You look around and realize you're laying a cot in a massive room with a very, very high ceiling. There's hundreds of people around you, talking, playing, eating and otherwise living normally. Next to you, however, are rows and rows of other people in cots, unmoving. Some are pale with black veins running under their skin, so still they might be dead. You feel a hand on your shoulder.
It's Handyman. "Hey, kiddo. Hell of a way to come to our new home, I guess?" he says, "Guess it's our fault for 'dropping in' uninvited?"
He looks a little rough—literally he's jagged around the edges—but otherwise fine.
"Wha . . . what happened?" you ask.
"You were going after Morpheme when you grabbed your head and started screaming. Then you fell. I tried to catch you but you're, uh, heavier than you look."
"Rude!"
"Hey, I tried to save you. And then got chewed out by LL because apparently a fall from that height can't hurt you. So, hey, live and learn!"
You look around. "So we're in the Apiary?"
"Yeah, but this is just the–"
"The atrium, I know. I used to intern here, remember?"
"Aww," Handyman says, deflating, literally, before perking back up, "Okay, but do you want to know something else that's really crazy?"
"Is that Mendicant?!"
"Dammit!"
Said metahuman hears you and comes over, Lady Leizi and Menagerie Witch in tow. They pull your eyelid open and take a peak, before grabbing your wrist to take your pulse.
"Hello, hello. Yes, I am Mendicant. Pronouns: they/them. Yes, yes, it's nice to meet me. No, I don't do autographs, photos, or birthday parties," they say frowning minutely, "And you're . . . someone with an energy construct body. The hell am I doing?"
"Falling prey to your better instincts, darling," Lady Leizi says. Then she gives you a little smile. "And Black Swan, I'm glad you are alright."
"Don't think you can call me darling just because I kind of want you to spit in my mouth!" Mendicant cries, "Look, back to what I was saying. Old V.S.—God rest her shining, sapphic soul—always told me the Apiary was a safe haven if I needed it. And I needed it. And on the way, I ran into a few hundred of my closest friends who also needed a place to crash while the city burned. So we set up shop here. Only, all the people in one place attracted the attention of the squiddy-fish and now we can't leave."
They look around at the people and their eyes soften.
"It's . . . nice being around people again. People who don't want anything. But it can't last forever. We're gonna run out of food eventually. Umm, we owe you for raiding your fridge, I guess. Put it on my tab. On top of that, Floating Venom Morpheme is venomous. A lot of these people are sick, and I can't do anything about it without a sample from it."
"What are you trying to say then?" Lady Leizi says, raising an eyebrow, "Do be direct. I hate beating around the bush."
"Step on me, mommy. Ahem. What I'm saying is this: let these people stay here, kill Morpheme, and get me a sample of its tissue so I can make a symbiote with a cure, and I'll sell my creations to you. Direct."
Lady Leizi's eyebrows nearly go off her head. "That's . . . generous."
Menagerie Witch has wandered over and tugs on your arm. "What does that mean? Why does that matter?"
"It matters, tiny adorable witch-child, because I don't sell directly. To anyone," Mendicant says, overhearing her, their brow stormy, "I tried when I first got started. Three attempted kidnappings and four riots later, I realized that would never work. You make something that can heal any injury? Stop aging? Yeah, people will do anything for that shit. So I teamed up with Powers and would only sell my little freaks of nature at auction."
Their expression gets darker.
"But now Powers is playing some sort of game. Made it clear that membership with them was mandatory. So I cut bait. Now, I'm willing to work with you. If you make it worth my while."
"Yes, I see your point," Lady Leizi says, "However, I have a counter-proposal. We'll have to find our way deeper into the Apiary and past any defenses I can't deactivate, but the Apiary has a shield-net we could reactivate that would drive Morpheme away for good. No need to fight him at all."
DC 15.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 20. Justice Unlimited has a collective REPUTATION of 18.
You rolled: 11.
11 - 1 = 10. Failure!
Mendicant thinks for a moment. "I see what you mean. No fighting means no collateral damage. But I don't know if I can make a cure without a sample."
They run their hands through their hair and sigh. "Look, I like you, I really do. But you have to give me cover if I'm gonna team up with you now. If word gets out that I'm selling to you without you doing anything for me? I'm gonna get a lot of visits from very interested parties who want the same arrangement. Also, dozens of people will die from the venom, hero."
"Yes . . . but challenging a Named-Rank Behemoth is no meager task. Especially with my team already injured." Lady Leizi throws you a glance. You shake your head and silently indicate you're fine and will talk to her in private later.
"Tough tittes," Mendicant says, looking at Lady Leizi challengingly, "Those are my conditions. So what's it gonna be?"
[ ] Agree to fight Floating Venom Morpheme.
-[ ] How? (subject to veto by QM. Good plans will result in bonuses to HIT checks)
(HIT 20 Check. Other checks to follow. Will collect bounty on Floating Venom Morpheme. Mendicant will agree to sell to you directly. Will commit to letting refugees live in the Apiary (-500 Income per turn)
[ ] Refuse. Activate the shield-net instead.
(OPERATIONS 12 Check. REPUTATION check to keep Mendicant from leaving. Have the option of evicting refugees later. Will not collect bounty.)
Snippets Of Life Next To The Leviathan
By MrKermie
Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – The Worker's Mitt– December 6, 2067
You take a breath of relief, as you finish dusting off the old painting. Looks like even through the Movement, your stuff stayed secure.
You are Shelley Marie. The woman who knows everybody in the Worker's Mitt, and also probably in like, the top 10 richest in the Worker's Mitt. Which doesn't mean much, considering where you are right now, but hey. Turns out rich people by the Foot pay a lot for a good piano and trumpet teacher.
Well, or they used to, before the Movement happened. Since the Movement, you've been coordinating efforts to get medical supplies to all the workers who were injured by all the shadow birds. The shadow birds that disappeared when…
Well. Turns out Mona was secretly a hero the whole time. Or for at least 3 years. Maybe you should check up on how the news and forums are treating her. Just for a second.
But before you can start checking for any account activity on Hero For Hire, you hear a loud knock at the door. "Coming!"
The small apartment that you're in is almost definitely living below your means, but you still like it. You dodge some letters and pencils that you accidentally let fall on the floor, before opening the door.
The woman at the door looks like you, but while you're in an outfit that's whatever shirt and shorts were on the top of your drawer (you don't need one of your suits, city hall was a while ago) she's in a bomber jacket with slick pants and sunglasses. She takes off her glasses, and offers you a high-five, which you gladly return. Besides, it's your twin sister, Fran Marie!
Fran walks into your apartment, and takes a look around. "So this is your new place, Shelley? Seems nice."
You jokingly punch her on the shoulder. "Oh please, anything seems nice compared to the dump that is your room."
"I'll have you know, Ms. Socialite, that while my room may not look nice, my dojo is one of the cleanest locations in the whole Mitt. Besides, you've just got that old painting smack dab in the middle of your room! You aren't much cleaner."
You turn towards the painting, and push it and its easel a bit closer to the edge of the room. "Well, I personally think that it lends a bit of panache to this dreary apartment. And besides, I think it looks nice! What do you think?"
Fran takes off her jacket and throws it on one of your spare chairs. She walks closer to the painting and squints. "That was… something you did while you were trying out all those clubs in high school senior year, right? Around when we got to Horizon. It looks nice, but it doesn't really look like a self-portrait like I think your teacher wanted."
The painting itself is accurate to Fran's assessment of it. While it includes you, you're not really the center of it. Just a detailed splotch of red in a bustling gray crowd. The real bulk of the painting is the background that surrounds you.
Neon skyscrapers and a seemingly incessant rain surround you, the only person without an umbrella. Holographic advertisements shine down on you, showing some of the faces and visages of the heroes you were admiring at the time (and still do admire). Valiant Silver, Adamant, Red Huntress…
But the rest is still familiar. The street signs are the same as the ones from your now well traveled daily commute, and in the background, the white dome of the Apiary still shines bright. It's the "Worker's Mitt of the future" you pictured so long ago.
"It's very avant-garde. Probably not something I'll be doing again, though." you comment. "…do you think it's in bad taste now, considering the Movement?"
Fran plops down on the old couch, which you nabbed for practically pennies at a garage sale. "I've seen artists post the porn Valiant Silver commissioned of Uiara posthumously. It's not. Honestly, if I was you, I'd be wondering about making a sequel."
"With Mona in it? Personally, I'm unsure. Besides, how long do you think she's really had those powers?"
Fran sits up a bit. "Pardon?"
"I think a lot of people who were watching her fight the shadow birds definitely noticed that she lost a finger or two when she shot off a few attacks. If she really had those powers for so long…"
"Then how did she not blow off an arm a few years ago?" Fran finishes. "Honestly, I don't know. If there's one person who would, it's Lady Leizhi, the hatchet-woman."
She stands up one more time, to admire the painting again with you. You two stand in silence for a bit. Eventually, Fran decides to ask you another question. "…you thinking of looking for Justice Unlimited? If you are, I don't think I need to tell you how dumb that one is."
It doesn't really feel like she's looking at the painting right now, or you. It's more like she's looking through you, looking politely in your general direction. You take a deep breath, and close your eyes.
Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – Old Industrial District—August 8, 2058
9 Years Ago.
It was a long time ago. You and your family had just immigrated from America, after the successor to Thrule and his cronies had been trying to take away your rights. And your autonomy. And Fran's budding job prospects. You all just didn't want to be the next unlucky idiots caught up in the second Liberty Tower, whenever that would happen…
(Which had taken your old brother-in-law Ren ten years ago in 2048, bless his soul.)
Oh, and you wouldn't have been surprised if he was going to take away your soul. "Not judging people by the color of their skin" wasn't really something that the current president seemed to have been paying attention to in social studies.
You were about 18, and you had been having a bad day. It was ridiculously hot in Horizon compared to where you were living in America, and while you didn't hate your family's house in the Worker's Mitt, it just felt… unfamiliar.
It was an afterschool day. You had just done PE, and you didn't feel energized enough to be going home just yet. So you were loitering around and sitting on some Old Industrial sidewalk, just down in the dumps. Everything was so unfamiliar, and your assignments were so much harder than back in your school in America.
You were about to fall asleep, when you heard a voice coming from above you. "Hey, are you ok?"
You look up, and oh, ew. You might have fallen asleep already.
"...Are you a Silver Behemoth or a metahuman? I'm too sleepy to tell the difference." you say.
The woman(?) laughed. She was tall, taller than your father or any of your uncles. Her mouth was split into mandibles, and her red eyes were covered by the compound pieces of a fly's eyes. "That's actually one of the friendlier things I've heard today. I'm Apiary, part of NuGen, New Dawn's new team. You ok?"
You blink the grogginess out of your eyes. "I'm fine, don't worry. Don't you have anything better to do?"
"No, not really. What's got you loitering around?"
It was the first time in a while that someone had asked you that question. So you spilled it all out. Your feelings, everything.
When you were done, you finally were able to look up into the eyes of the woman who stopped for you, and you recoiled back in shock. "Hey, you're bleeding from your face and cheeks! Uh, should I call 911? Do they have 911 here? W-why did you talk to me, shouldn't you be with your team?"
Apiary smiles again, before shrugging. "Don't worry kid, I can replicate myself. I'm on my way to my teammates right now. As for your question… I don't know. I was just feeling like being kind for the sake of being kind."
Huh. Being kind for the sake of being kind…
That was the first time you met Apiary, or Rosemary.
It would also be the last, as she died one year later.
When you heard that news, it was like something broke inside your heart. Why?
So you started investigating. You learned about hero culture for fun. You got those teaching credentials, and started helping out all the kids in your community. Big SisShelley, they called you.
And even if Apiary herself hadn't put much thought into her words, you could never stop yourself from doing so. Because they were the exact and only words that could have pulled you out of the darkness into the light.
Being kind for the sake of being kind. That's what you think about when you see the Apiary, when you saw Justice Unlimited.
"What would it be like, to be someone saying those kinds of things?" you wondered.
Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – The Worker's Mitt– December 6, 2067
With that in mind, you take another look at your painting. Through the neon-drenched skyscrapers of the future Mitt, there's a metallic statue, noticeable with just a glance, on the left side of the painting. Right in front of the white dome of the Apiary, you've drawn an almost perfect replica of a statue of a woman with insectoid features, but an undeniably friendly face.
Holding out a helping hand to a girl who needs it.
You go to wash your hands of any grime or dirt, before stepping past Fran and getting to the door. "Alright, now that you're here, could you make sure nobody gets in the house? I'm going to be making some inquiries with Justice Unlimited. They might not be at the Apiary, but they're still alive, and I think I might have a hunch about where."
You've made some trips to the Foot, after all. Considering that POWERS is on a recruiting spree, this might be your last chance to find them around the Ladder.
Fran scoffs, but there's clearly some worry beneath it. "I mean, I was just here to grab some ingredients from your pantry, but sure. Just wanna let you know, though, at least nine different things at a time will be out to kill you if you want to be a hero. Trust me. I know better than anyone else in our family, even mom, that the world's way too unkind. It would chew up and spit someone like you right out." she says.
But as she says that, she seems to stop looking through you, and actually into your eyes. And as different as she is from you, she's still your twin. She knows.
You nod. "Well, that's too bad for the world. I'm perfectly fine with being kind anyways."
And you step out the door, going on your way to find a certain Mona Merola-Morales.
(Ok, now that you're thinking about it, maybe you should go and find her mom. You know Marisa better anyways.) Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – The Worker's Mitt– December 7, 2067
The agenda is overcrowded, and your head hurts from everything that's been going on. The Movement, the state of the Foot… any chance of planning this week out is gone.
You are Rei Maruki. Girlfailure extraordinaire. Or at least, that's how you're feeling right now.
Your extremely well paying job at the Foot Of The Ladder? Gone. You're staying at a friend's apartment in your old home, the Mitt.
Your coworkers (and best friends aside from Mona and Akemi), Arata and Mai? Dead in a riot. Along with the anime store that you had such a cushy job at. You take a deep breath in to calm yourself down, like Akemi said you should.
It doesn't work. Actually, you feel more sick to your stomach. Ok then, time to try something more effective. You open up your phone, and start doomscrolling Hero For Hire.
Hey, it's more effective, not more healthy for you. A lot of HFH is exactly as you saw it when you last left: so much Movement doomposting. New Dawn's good, most of Global Justice is dead…
Hey, at least Justice Unlimited is good. Everybody saw Mona at town hall a few weeks ago, and while that might not be common knowledge yet, the shadow birds are gone. Good riddance, now you can go back to taking that shortcut by Third North that you used to always use. Doesn't take away the fact that your friend is now putting herself in mortal danger on a daily basis now, but she'll be fine!
At the very least, you got ten likes and one hug on your post. That's nice.
Eventually, however, your phone starts ringing. You pick up the call without looking at the number.
"Rei Maruki here. If you're trying to scam me, go and try again in a few more months."
The voice on the other end is peppy and cheerful. "Rei, it's me, Mona!"
You snap to attention instantly, back straightening up in seconds. "Mona! How's it been? You're a superhero now, what's that like?"
Mona giggles a bit. "Oh, it's awesome. I fought Earthern Owl, met a talking beetle named Valiant Kabuto, and made a new friend! Say hi, Maddie."
A timid and young voice answers the phone this time. "Um… hi."
"Hi there. I'm Rei." As you say that, you consider what Mona said. You heard about Earthern Owl already, but a talking beetle…
Ah. Dr. Mammoth Ibis. Of course.
As you hear the phone be passed back, you continue. "I can't believe that you're in the Apiary and with Justice Unlimited. Man, did they give you your merch for free? Is that how you got that collection?"
You can hear Mona nodding excitedly on the other end of the phone. "No, that's all either from the cooking competitions and what I bought from the Apiary shops. And I'm not in the Apiary right now, I'm in… um, give me a second."
You hear some inaudible chatter in the background, so you tap your fingers to calm your nerves and pass the time. As you wait, you also hear…
Wait. You know that voice actress. Is Mona seriously watching ♥️Moe Moe Kyun Magical Girl-Maid Monica♥️ right now?!
As you hear Mona get back on the phone, you immediately start speaking. "Mona. Really? Magical Girl-Maid Monica?!"
Mona clearly holds back a laugh on the other end of the phone. "Hey! I wanted to introduce Maddie to it. And besides, it's great!"
And then she start singing the first few lines of the theme song. Leviathan's Blood. "Girl, I'd throw a pillow at you if I wasn't in the Mitt right now!" You yell.
Mona seems to be ready to laugh her way into a heart attack at this rate, but bravely (annoyingly) holds it back. "It's still peak magical girl, and you like 💙Doki Doki Magical Girl-Motorcyclist Makoto💙! Don't judge me!"
"Makoto is way cooler, more mature, and is also more independent than Monica, and I will die on that hill." You assert, trying to hold back your laughter as well.
"Oh yeah, and before I forget. I was just talking with LL." Mona offhandedly mentions, "she says I can't tell you about where we are."
LL? Wait…
"Girl, you can't tell me that you talked with Lady Leizhi and then leave it there! Where even are you right now!?"
"Well, we're actually going to get the Apiary back in a few days. We're training up Rhys right now…"
You stand up, and look out the window. Yup. Floating Venom Morpheme is still there. Shit. "Mona, answer me. How many teammates do you have?"
"…three? We've got Rhys training his powers right now."
Four metahumans. Four metahumans, one of whom you're pretty sure just made her debut less than a month ago, and one who is literally in training right now.
Four metahumans against a Named Behemoth. You do not like those odds. Not at all.
Wait, and how long has Mona even been using her powers? She's at best a mediocre liar, and she definitely would have been the type of girl to fly instead of walking. And what did she say again?
Mona said:
"See! I can shoot lasers and stuff! And I'm a black hole? Technically, maybe?"
Mona is a nerd for superheroes. She should have known her own powers better.
"-ei? Rei?"
"It's nothing," you answer. "I just feel like you should probably have more help with this. Be careful out there, ok? Stay safe, Mona."
You put down the phone, and begin to walk out of the apartment. It looks like if you want your peaceful life back, you're going to have to get some things done yourself. Author's Note:
I took some time off the corkboard to write about my candidates. Then it got a bit out of hand.
I hope that this encourages you all to vote for my candidates if we roll them. Rei's already canonically shown up in the quest, so I wanted to give Shelley some love.
(And speaking of Shelley, if you liked her here and/or like HSR, read Space Oddity! We're right in the finale of Belobog! Read now, or be cursed to have to catch up on Xianzhou!)
[X] Plan: Squid Rings
-[X] Agree to fight Floating Venom Morpheme.
--[X] Black Swan takes potshots at FVM to lure it away from the Apiary, while Handyman and Menagerie Witch takes to the skies atop copies of Nevermore.
--[X] Handyman and Menagerie Witch should let Black Swan grab the monster's attention while they work on prematurely detonating bubbles via ranged attacks.
--[X] Everytime the bubbles are cleared, Black Swan should get close to the monster and output high-power beams at it, preferably on the spots that look like it contains organs, before retreating once the monster glows red and unleashes more bubbles.
In the end, there is only one option.
"We'll take on the Behemoth," you tell Mendicant. An alliance with a healer of their caliber is too valuable to pass up. Not to mention, a new, guilty voice in your mind reminds you, it is the right thing to do. The Apiary is large enough to house all of the refugees, even if it will be taxing on your budget.
Which will be much, much fuller if you collect a bounty on a Named Behemoth.
"Oh thank goddess," Mendicant says in relief, "You're are, like, so hot and it would suuuuuck if you turned out to be a shitty person. Also! I'm worried I've veering away from being quirky and into actual sexual harassment. We good?"
"Marvelous, darling," you say, sticking out a hand.
"Oh! I don't shake hands. I've lived in pretty much total isolation for the last fifteen years. Being around people again has me overstimulated as fuck. If I have meaningful contact with another human being right now, I'm gonna ugly cry."
"O-oh. I see." You have no idea what to say in response to that. What can you say?
"Shit sucks," Menagerie Witch says, patting Mendicant on the arm. Before you can scold her for her language, she gives Mendicant a quick hug.
"Waaaaaaah! I-I—hic!—said I was gonna cry! I'm crying! I'm crying; are you happy now? Waaaaaaaaah! G-go kill the monster or something! Just go kill the monster!"
"S-sorry!" Menagerie Witch says, trying to pull away. But Mendicant's arm remains firmly wrapped around her torso.
"Ummm . . ."
"Twenty more minutes!"
* * *
As Mendicant bawls their eyes out and clings to a visibly sympathetic Menagerie Witch, you have a word with Black Swan.
"Will there be a repeat of your . . . episode while we deal with Floating Venom Morpheme?"
"No," Black Swan says as the two of you watch Handyman walk over and rub soothing circles into Mendicant's back, "I'm good. I . . . um . . . I'll tell you later."
Black Swan's expression is unusually serious. You nod at her. "Understood. We'll all be counting on you."
"Yeah. Ummm, Lady Leizi?"
"Yes?"
". . . am I a 'provisional member' of Justice Unlimited?"
You raise an eyebrow. Where had that come from? "I daresay it depends on how you perform in this upcoming fight."
"Thanks, Lady Leizi—what, what the frick?"
You laugh at how her face screws up as you go to free a now uncomfortable Menagerie Witch. Black Swan follows you, grumbling ominously under her breath.
". . . provisional member, my butt. . ."
* * *
The four of you get into position as Floating Venom Morpheme looms overhead. Black Swan takes point, followed by Menagerie Witch and Handyman aloft on clones of Nevermore.
Handyman has contorted his body into an unusual shape. He sits on his bottom with his legs lengthened to unnatural proportions. Where his knees should be is a circular platform from which there is a ballista made of bone and chitinous sinew. His arms have also grown longer so he can move the "platform" while his head is angled in such a way that he can see down the sights of his ballista-self.
It is grotesque and fascinating in all the ways Towarri would have loved. Handyman throws you a wink from where you stand on overwatch.
Yes, you were not to joining them in the air. You ignore the churning pit of anxiety in your stomach as you watch through binoculars from the top of the Apiary. You reassure yourself for the dozenth time that this is the right decision—your electrical attacks are all contact-based. You have no form of defensive power. You would be a liability in this fight.
Just like you were in the QZ.
They will be fine, you repeat like a mantra. You are watching them and will give orders as the battle unfolds. You are not helpless. They are not helpless. It's one Behemoth. Everything will be fine.
You pointedly ignore the slight tremor in your legs and hands.
The plan is simple. Black Swan will take potshots at Floating Venom Morpheme and draw its attention away from the Apiary. As she does, Menagerie Witch and Handyman will prematurely detonate any bubbles before they can spread too far. Once the bubbles are clear, Black Swan will engage with high-powered blasts aiming for the Behemoth's organs and retreat before more bubbles can be released. It's as solid a plan as you can have with the information you have on the creature's capabilities.
DC 15.
Stat Check: HIT 20. Justice Unlimited has a collective HIT 25.
You rolled: 4.
4 + 2 + 3 (Good Plan!) = 9. Failure!
Unfortunately, you've forgotten something vital: Behemoths are not just powerful, but intelligent. Rather than feel backwards, Floating Venom Morpheme flies towards Black Swan as she attacks, using its thicker top-layer of skin to absorb her blasts. Black Swan is forced to pull away as the abomination places itself between her and Menagerie Witch and Handyman. Then it begins a counterattack.
Floating Venom Morpheme raises its tentacles level with its body and, through some unseen propulsion, begins to spin like a top. Bubbles don't drift from its body, but rocket out too fast for your teammates to avoid.
Black Swan takes one injury level! Superficial Injury!
Handyman takes one injury level! Severe Injury!
Menagerie Witch takes one injury level! Superficial Injury!
The concussive force knocks Justice Unlimited for a loop but, more worryingly, places them in the center of mist as the bubbles detonate. You hear Handyman and Menagerie Witch coughing over your comm.
"Pull back!" you bark, "Status report! Handyman, Menagerie Witch!"
"J-jung?" Menagerie Witch says through hacking coughs, "Arvgure bs lbh ner znxvat frafr."
"Come again," you say, "Menagerie Witch, Handyman, do you read me?"
"Lbh'er abg znxvat frafr!" Menagerie Witch cries.
"Lady Leizi, I don't think they can understand us," Black Swan says, "I think it's poison!"
You think of the creature's name. Floating Venom Morpheme. You curse violently under your breath. It may be that none of Mendicant's patients were found before succumbing to the poison, but you would put money on the fact they developed aphasia as well.
Your breathing quickens. They can't understand you. You can't direct them. You can only watch.
DC 12.
Stat Check: OPERATIONS 10. Menagerie Witch has OPERATIONS 7.
You rolled: 19.
19 - 1 - 3 (Asphasia) = 15. Success!
Thankfully, Menagerie Witch keeps her head. Perhaps it is the part of her that let her plan revenge against Le Petit Prince and resist him for weeks, but she quickly sacrifices all of her constructs except those she and Handyman ride on and rapidly pulls away. Floating Venom Morpheme is distracted long enough that they're able to escape the range of its next burst of bubbles.
Black Swan also takes advantage of the creature's inattention and positions herself for an attack. Repeating the tactics she used against Menagerie Witch's constructs in the Worker's Mitt, she flies underneath Floating Venom Morpheme and hits it with a high energy attack. The beam of light blinds you for a second as she drags it across the monster's body, severing three tentacles and leaving deep burns in its main body.
Black Swan repositions herself and begins charging another blast, this one meant to end the fight. But before she can fire, Floating Venom Morpheme makes one final move.
DC 10.
Stat Check: HIT 20. Menagerie Witch and Handyman have a collective HIT 10.
You rolled: 2.
2 - 5 - 1 (Handyman is Severely Injured!) + 5 (Floating Venom Morpheme is on the Ropes!) = 1. Critical failure!
Handyman takes one injury level! Critical Injury!
Menagerie Witch takes one injury level! Severe Injury!
With a dexterity a creature that size shouldn't have, Floating Venom Morpheme strikes with its tentacles like a snake. It plucks Handyman and Menagerie Witch out of the air and pulls them into its body.
Black Swan freezes in horror at the same moment you do. You can see Handyman inside the creature grabbing Menagerie Witch and struggling in the mesoglea. Black Swan now can't attack it without killing her teammates. The creature glows red as it moves to attack her with impunity.
You can't do anything. You can only watch.
You see the innards of Floating Venom Morpheme start to converge on your friends. Handyman struggles in place as the fluid grows more viscous, locking him and Menagerie Witch in place.
You can't do anything. You can only watch.
Menagerie Witch opens her mouth, but there's no air to breath. She starts choking as her face is overlaid in your mind with another young girl with silver skin and blank eyes—
You can't do anything. You can only watch.
"No!" you scream as you strike yourself in the thigh and electrocute yourself. You will not give in. You will save them. "Black Swan! If you can't blast it—"
DC 12.
Stat Check: HIT 10. Black Swan has HIT 9.
You rolled: 13.
13 + 0 = 13. Success!
"—then I go through!" she finishes.
Black Swan pulls back and aligns herself underneath Floating Venom Morpheme. Then, she flies up. She accelerates, faster, and faster, and faster until she is a blur unseeable by the eye. She rips through Floating Venom Morpheme like a hot knife through butter and grabs Handyman and Menagerie Witch. Then, with the force of a star, she blasts a hole through the top of Floating Venom Morpheme and pulls herself and her teammates free with a victorious holler.
Floating Venom Morpheme deflates like a punctured balloon and begins to rapidly lose altitude. Clear plasma leaks out of its body and stains the wilderness below as it flashes a strobelight of colors.
DC 10.
Stat Check: HIT 20. Justice Unlimited has a collective HIT 25.
With its last burst of propellant, Floating Venom Morpheme flings itself in the direction of the Apiary and crashes atop the building next to you. The tremors throw you to the surface of the roof and you must cling precariously to not be thrown off the building all together.
Lady Leizi takes one injury level! Superficial Injury!
Then, Floating Venom Morpheme begins wrapping its remaining tentacles around the building, attempting to crush it like a grape. It glows red, less vibrant than before, no doubt to release a volley of bubbles at short range.
The creature is mortally wounded, but it appears to want to take you, the building, and everyone inside with it.
You get to your feet. The hum of the Apiary underneath you brings back old memories. You center yourself and then charge. That thing dies here!
* * *
You remember sitting there for the first time as your new teammates for this venture were introduced. New Dawn made its conditions clear: you want their resources and expertise? You had to submit to their supervision and accept the two before you into your "NuGen". One is a tall man who is handsome in a boring way. The other was the most severe example of metahuman dismorphism you had ever had the misfortune of encountering.
She was eight feet tall, covered in a bluish chitin and gray hair. An insectoid abdomen hung behind her digitigrade legs, and all four of her hands were nervously clasped together. She didn't raise her head with a set of red insectoid compound eyes over humanoid eyes until she was introduced. She split her mandibles apart in a facsimile of a smile, showing human teeth.
"Hi," she said softly, "I'm Rosemary. It's nice to meet you all."
* * *
Whatever sensorium Floating Venom Morpheme has, it lets it see you coming. It diverts a tentacle and whips it at you, which you parry with a blast of lightning. Its rubbery skin protects it from the worst of the damage, but it definitely felt that attack.
* * *
You wrinkled your nose as you walked into the room—it stank. Nora and Rosemary were sitting on the floor in front of a great television, complaining as Eve beat them at some video game or other.
"New rule!" Nora shouted, "Zixuan has to play and be on Eve's team."
"But I've never touched this game, Nora."
"Exactly! You'll drag her down so we can win!"
You frowned at that. You did not appreciate being treated as a handicap. You open your mouth to say as much when Rosemary interrupts you.
"I'll play with Zixuan," she says.
". . . you sure?" Nora asks.
"Yep!"
After some shuffling, you find yourself sitting next to Rosemary as the game starts back up.
You give her a scrutinizing look out of the corner of your eye. "You don't have to pity me. This is a children's game. I could care less if I'm not good at it."
"I know," Rosemary says with a conspiratorial buzz, "But now that you're on my team, I can stop holding back."
You proceed to trounce Eve and Nora seventeen times in a row. By the end, Eve is so furious she has disconnected her avatar and Nora is lying on the floor and staring blankly at the ceiling.
Rosemary holds out a fist to you. After a moment, you bump yours against it.
"Same time next week?" she asks, tentatively.
"Darling, if you promise to keep putting Eve in her place, I'll be here every week."
* * *
You viciously curse under your breath as Floating Venom Morpheme brings two more tentacles into the mix. You feel like a sea captain battling a kraken, complete with an unstable footing. The fact that you had to get into hand-to-hand range to do any damage was making this fight impossibly difficult. Why had you never mastered a weapon? Certainly there were some that could conduct electricity. Honestly, mastery of your powers was never a priority for you. You had friends for that; your strength was your mind. And now you were paying for it.
One tentacle strikes so closely that you have to roll out of the way. The hum from Apiary below is even louder now, the surface hot to the touch.
It feels familiar.
* * *
The whole city had gone mad. The Defiance Unit had finally crossed a line, attacking the Elysium Station during Christmas. The rich and powerful, so used to living in total safety high above the world, went rabid and placed a one billion dollar bounty on them.
Dead. Not alive.
Every metahuman in the city sought to claim the bounty and conflict between competing groups became as common as clashes with the Defiance Unit as they desperately fled. They had surrendered multiple times, only to be attacked anyway.
"This isn't justice," Yazmin had said, her eyes blazing, "This is a lynch mob."
And so your team—and yourself, for some reason—stood alone against the insanity. But you were only seven people and monsters like Scarlet Maturity joined the fray. You all knew it was a futile, even suicidal, effort.
But, yet, here you were warding off an attack from Marrow Spider, diving out of the way of a spear made of bone. You were hurt, bleeding, and exhausted. One wrong step and you would die, and both you and he knew it.
Then you heard it. The buzzing.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, of human-sized insectoid warriors blacked the sky. It was Apiary—they all were Apiary. You could hear her voice echo from every construct as she announced the hunt was over and everyone must quit the field. Or else.
You stared, awe-struck. You had never seen her make so many warforms at once; there were ten for every metahuman here. One of them saw you staring at it and, through it, Apiary spoke.
"I'm not running anyway anymore. I won't let anyone else get hurt."
A week later, at her funeral, you had the thought that it was the most human thing you had ever heard.
* * *
On the ground, you closed your eyes. Nora's final words echoing in your ears.
"Remember, the Apiary doesn't just have Rosemary's name. It has her heart."
The Apiary was a building Rosemary had made in her final moments, the white material a new kind of production for her. Nora could always speak to her, speak to it, even if the rest of you couldn't. But now, there was only you. Justice Unlimited was yours.
"Help me," you hiss into the ground. "Please. I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can . . . please. I've lost one family. I can't lose another."
DC 15.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 10. Lady Leizi has REPUTATION 4.
You rolled: 19.
19 - 3 + 5 (It has Her Heart.) = 21. Critical Success!
You repeat yourself over and over and, by the end, your words are a barely coherent babble, or perhaps a prayer. But they do not go unanswered.
With a great heave and groan, the building next to you moves. A pillar of material taller than Floating Venom Morpheme rises and then moves towards the Behemoth. You see that there are six other pillars, all encircling the monster, that move, converging to one point in the center. As they do, they push Floating Venom Morpheme's body, compressing it, squeezing it, crushing it until it—
Pops.
You stare blankly for a second. The sight is revolting, but the Behemoth is unquestionably dead. You stare at the Apiary and pat it appreciatively.
"Yes. . . that will do nicely. Thank you."
* * *
The return to the Apiary is something of a blur. You remember Black Swan landing and taking her, Handyman, and Menagerie Witch into a great hug. Mendicant rushed out exclaiming at how you dispatched Floating Venom Morpheme and grabbing as much material as they could to synthesize a cure. They took a piece of its flesh, turned around and tucked it somewhere underneath their shirt. Then, after a moment they start screaming.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's prion-based! AHHHHHH! I need to synthesize a cure yesterday. Fuuuuuuuuuuck—" Their voice drifts away as they run back inside.
As you wait for their return, you turn to your team. Menagerie Witch looks worse for wear and Handyman is hardly able to stay upright. You and Black Swan begin helping him into a resting position when Mendicant returns with two fingernail-sized creatures that look like enlarged amoebas as well as Mittens and Apep. They shove them into Menagerie Witch's hands and then put the amoebas into her and Handyman's mouths before running back inside, still swearing.
Menagerie Witched coughs and sputters before saying, "What was that? Wait, I can talk! I can understand words again!"
"Mendicant's the best, kid," Handyman groans, "Fast too."
"Are you okay?!" Black Swan asks Handyman while hugging Menagerie Witch.
"I'm fine! You should see the other guy."
"I'm okay too," Menagerie Witch says, stroking Mittens and placing Apep in her hat, "Hey, do you think I could get a pet jellyfish? I'm feeling inspired."
You roll your eyes but don't say no. You certainly have the space now. An aquarium would be a lovely conversation piece.
You're still waiting when a curious person from the Apiary comes outside to take a look. Then another. Then another, and another still until you are surrounded by joyous people all cheering.
"Justice Unlimited, baby!"
"You guys sure kicked that thing's ass!"
"Who's that witch and why is so cute?!"
"The clay-guy is hot. Okay, I said it! The clay-guy is hot!"
You are overwhelmed, but Black Swan quickly takes over speaking to everyone. Before you know it, someone brings out several grills from somewhere and a full-blown celebratory barbeque is in swing.
The mouth-watering smell of grilled meats hits your nose as Mendicant stumbles out, pale as a sheet. They have a larger, spongy symbiote in their hands that looks unpleasantly fungal.
Minor Success: DC 5. Moderate Success: DC 10. Major Success: DC 15.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 10. Justice Unlimited has a collective REPUTATION 18.
You rolled: 4.
4 + 4 = 8. Minor Success!
They shove in on the back of Menagerie Witch's neck where it slithers down the back of their costume. Menagerie Witch shrieks in surprise as Mittens and Nevermore join her in protest before freezing.
"Wow . . . I feel better."
Menagerie Witch has received a healing symbiote. She will heal all injury levels by the end of the mission.
Mendicant then keels over. You manage to catch them before they hit the ground. You ease them next to Handyman.
"I'm sorry, sexy claymation man. I had to work overtime to cure that venom—ew, ew prions are the worst, ew—and I'm tapped," they say, "And between you and a cute-child?"
"You did the right thing," Handyman says next to them, "I regenerate."
"Luuuuuuucky."
You pull your hand back from Mendicant's shirt and find it wet and stained crimson. You recognize the tacky sensation of blood. So that was why Mendicant wore a red shirt. They give you a look, begging you to say nothing with their eyes and you comply.
"Is someone grilling? Are the ribs? I could murder a rack of ribs right now."
"Theresh greaf!" Black Swan says through a mouthful. She then swallows and says, "I'll get you a plate!"
Once Mendicant is sated with a steady supply of ribs, they start babbling.
"Okay, you guys are the real deal. I'm in. I live here now. I'll hook you guys up."
You raise an eyebrow. "You . . . want to join Justice Unlimited?"
They shake their head. "Can't do that. Someone would try to take you guys out to get to me, or kill me to deny you my powers. I'll still have to sell to rich assholes, but I'll prioritize you guys. I'll still need to charge though . . . same reason. I'll cut you a hefty discount though. That good?"
"Perfect, darling."
"Oh thank fuck. I'm gonna be honest: I can't go back. To being alone all the time, I mean. I was already starting to lose it. Anymore and I'll end up pulling a Lethal Anodyne. And if I treat people like that walking bag of dicks, then I really will kill myself."
You pat their shoulder. "We have more than enough space. You can stay as long as you wish."
"Good. Good. So . . . the building's alive then?"
You keep your face carefully neutral. "Excuse me, darling?"
"Come on, I figured it out. I was one of the folks who tried helping Rosie when her body started changing back in the day. This building is made of the same stuff she could make, isn't it? Is she still alive in there?"
You think for a moment and then decide to trust them. "Not exactly her. An echo, or a memory. Something leftover."
"Hmm," Mendicant hums, "Rad."
The two of you sit in a companionable silence, listening to the sound of the party around you.
"Thank you, Mendicant," you say.
"Call me Alice. My name's Alice Lawson."
"Thank you Alice. For healing Madeline."
"No problem. It's nice doing something 'cuz I want to and not because of an existential fear of death."
You two drift back into silence."
"So . . . you doing anything later or . . .?"
"Not interested at the moment, unfortunately."
"Got it! Got it. Boundary set! I respect that."
"I didn't say never," you say smirking at them over your sunglasses, "Now is just not the time. Too much to do. Too much to fix. You're welcome to try again at another time, however, if you believe you can handle me."
"Why are you so hot?!"
* * *
Restoring the Apiary to full functionality will be a grand undertaking, but before you can do anything else, there is one place you must prioritize: Valiant Silver's lab.
Thankfully, your accord with the Apiary seems to have soothed it. Admittedly, hearing that Black Swan had a psychic encounter with it and gained its approval before you did does take the wind out of your sails a bit, but you won't complain too much. As you walk down its halls, all of the automatic defenses deactivate. You go down the familiar steps to a room deep, deep underground. You breathe in and then walk through as the doors open for you.
The lab is as Nora left it: a complete disaster. There half-finished projects everywhere, tools on every surface, nearly every wall wallpapered with blueprints and notes. You walk around debris on the ground and past a well-rotten box of pizza to the center of the room where you see it.
The EXCEED-BEYOND armor.
It looks just like the EXCEED armor but more . . . complete. There is a black bodysuit of a tough, shiny black material that makes your eyes go wide. Overtop its plates of white armor that surround the vital areas. The helmet has two folds of metal that meet in the middle to form a line down the faceplate with two white-lensed eyes above it. The crest is a golden "v" and you can see spherical, golden drones connected to the back.
You stare at it for a long time. Then you watch Nora's message—the second to last message from her you will ever watch.
"Hey, Zi. This is it. My masterpiece. My final work: the EXCEED-BEYOND armor. If you heard my final message you know that no metahuman will ever wear it. That's because to safely use it, one has to be able to establish a semi-permanent connection to the Stage. How is that possible you ask? We'll, I'm about to tell you, so stop talking to yourself."
"Ha! The look that must be on your face right now."
"Anyway, the only way to do it is to artificially manufacture a metahuman-esque power. Which I've done by altering my own DNA. If you've initiated Project Prometheus, give the attached schematics to your head researcher. It's the formula to create what's needed for the EXCEED-BEYOND armor. It's administered the same way we would a power, but whoever takes it will lose their potential to be a metahuman—instead their "power" will be this: to be able to EXCEED-BEYOND. Make sure they know what they're giving up before you give this to them. I've also included every piece of possible documentation on how to maintain and, if necessary, rebuild the armor should it come to that. I've made it as simple as possible—might need a team to do it, but you won't need an Algernon-type."
"The bodysuit I created with the Contingency. It's made from Apiary as well and is psycho-reactive. Should also be damn hard to break, but don't push it."
"The EXCEED-BEYOND has four modules with different combinations of powers to suit your needs. Just know, using the modules' power-intensive attacks will disable it for a short while. And if you use "Dynamite"? The whole suit will shut down for a time."
"And, Zi? The DNA in the EXCEED-BEYOND armor's formula is different enough from mine that you should be able to double dip. But . . . don't. Please don't make another me. I know how much I hurt you, Yaszmin, and everyone else every time I used my power. But I felt like I had to. Looking back on it, I wonder, was there a better way?"
"Please Zi. Find a better way."
Name: EXCEED-BEYOND
Always Active: Anti-gravity, Energy Shielding Module "Paper": Pyrokinesis, Energy Blaster, Drones, Targeting Suite, Railgun Module "Scissors": Psychic Energy Blades, Agility Suite, Telekinesis, Pilebunker Module "Rock": Enhanced Strength, Advanced Energy Shielding, Power Nullification Module "Dynamite": O̵̺͓̊͌͊p̵̞͕̔̚ē̵͔͜ņ̵͍͎̊ ̸͎̌̄̌ẗ̶̖͘h̶̝̮͐̋ë̵̺̺́ ̷̺͊S̵͍̊̈̕t̷̮̎͝ą̶̩̞̄g̶̮͘e̶̦̲̟͌ Potency: 13, Major Side Effect Guaranteed - Extreme Psychic Field Sensitivity Mechanical Notes: Modules must be selected for a scene and may be changed between scenes. Using any power in blue will disable the module until the end of a combat encounter. Using module "dynamite" will disable the EXCEED-BEYOND armor until the end of the mission.
You wipe your eyes and promise yourself that no one, no one, will wear this armor until they've earned it a hundred times over.
You move through the rest of the lab trying to categorize anything else useful. You manage to find three personal shield generators among the mess—they're the disposable kind, unfortunately, good for absorbing one solid hit and not much else. However, the real prize comes when you check Valiant Silver's medical database.
C-Class Powers
Name: Mister Hunch, Remy Deniau Power: Clairvoyance Faction: Independent Potency: 1 Ibis' Notes: ~Mister Hunch! Mister Hunch! Work with him to save a bunch!~ Ah, I remember that blasted commercial jingle well. It's taking up precious space in my brain!
Mister Hunch was a private detective who was known for being psychometric. He could touch an inanimate object and then "watch" everything that happened within a five-foot radius of the object in the last 24 hours. He was particularly beloved by those suing corporations and was a frequent collaborator with Lady Leizi. Unfortunately, his talents brought him the wrong kind of attention and he was murdered in an attack by the Demon Flamez.
Name: Miss Conception, Park Myung-Hee Power: Energy Manipulation, Invisibility Faction: Independent Potency: 3 Ibis' Notes: Ah, the unfortunately named Miss Conception was a thief who made a name for herself with a string of high-profile burglaries from secure facilities including New Dawn's Zenith and Dominion Security Concerns HQ. She eventually tried to break into the Apiary where she was caught and placed on parole—which she immediately violated trying again. Rumor has it that she was imprisoned for seven days and mended her ways after an intense "chat" with Lady Leizi. Have I mentioned how, um, "fashion-forward" her glasses are? They're not impractical indoors at all!
Miss Conception could create illusions that would persist for several days if left undisturbed. An odd quirk of her power is that it could fool three of the five traditional senses, but not all five at once. An object could be seen, smelt, and touched but not tasted or heard, for example. It was very confusing! She could also render herself invisible by putting an illusion around herself.
. . . I never did get those baseball cards she stole from my lab back.
B-Class Powers
Name: Bulwark, Robin McIntrye Power: Energy Manipulation, Ally Empowerment Faction: Independant Potency: 4 Ibis' Notes: Is that lawsuit still pending? Everyone is well aware of the facts. Bulwark came to the Apiary attempting to sell his services to Justice Unlimited in a mercenary capacity. He had the useful ability to shroud any person or object he could hit with a beam in a forcefield that would disperse after enough impact damage or over a period of time. However, Valiant Silver immediately recognized how his power worked and managed to replicate it mechanically.
Not gonna lie. Hell of a power move. Dr. Mammoth Ibis respects the hustle!
Bulwark grew so furious that he tried to sue Valiant Silver for "copyright infringement", but, since he had never thought to patent his powers, it went nowhere. Didn't mean he gave up though; he refiled the lawsuit in every jurisdiction he could. As far as I know, a few are still hanging around.
Name: Nox Esurientem, Gaspard Girardot Power: Emotional Manipulation, Energy Manipulation, Transformation, Regeneration, Teleportation, Enhanced Strength, Enhanced Speed Faction: The Defiance Unit Potency: 6 Ibis' Notes: Nox Esurientem was one of the heavy-hitters of The Defiance Unit. Once Crimson Soprano softened up a target, he would arrive to engage any defenders. He dressed like a vampire, complete with cravat and breeches. This was likely a nod to his primary power: emotional vampirism—he would gain strength by draining the emotions of nearby people which would give him a suit of powers based on what emotion his victims were feeling at the time. The breakdown was:
Fear = enhanced strength
Anger = increased size
Happiness = healing factor
Sadness = energy blasts
Disgust = teleportation
Surprise = enhanced speed
He was something a provocateur to ensure he could elicit the correct emotion from a person to gain the power he sought. His victims would be rendered insensate for a period of a day or so before recovering without any memory of the incident.
A-Class Powers Name: Zeno, Camdyn Poole Power:Space-Time Manipulation, Invulnerability Faction: The Defiance Unit Potency: 9 Ibis' Notes: Zeno was the final member of The Defiance Unit and was their ace in the hole. If any heroes responded to an attack, if it got too dangerous for the unit, Zeno was their ticket out of the situation. Zeno's power came in threes, and matched his namesake's paradoxes.
First, was the impossibility of motion. To advance any distance, a person must first walk halfway there, to get halfway there, they must move halfway of that distance, and so on to infinity. This manifested in his ability to arrest the motion of anything in his light of sight, including technically non-visible things like air molecules.
Next, was the similar, but distinct, impossibility of distance. If one object was following another moving object, then by the time the first object has caught up to the second object, the second object has also moved and the first object must travel further to catch up, in which time the second object will travel further. Thus, the first object can never catch up. This manifested in an inability of any object to actually touch Zeno without his consent. Anything attempting to hit him would have to travel an infinite distance to do so. This power was exclusive and automatic.
Finally, was the impossibility of time. If time was made of infinite moments, then at any particular movement a moving object would be stationary, neither moving to where it is, nor to where it is not. It cannot move to where it is not, because no time elapses for it to move there; it cannot move to where it is, because it is already there. In other words, at every instant of time there is no motion occurring. This was his final ability—the power to lock any one person in temporal stasis for 24 hours. There was no defense to this attack, and it only worked on one person at a time.
Zeno's weakness was his lack of offensive power. He relied on conventional weapons like firearms to deal damage, which proved ineffective against more robust metahumans.
Name: Apiary, Rosemary Ward Power: Transformation, Matter Conversion, Construct Creation Faction: Justice Unlimited Potency: 14, Major Side Effect Guaranteed - Permanent Dysmorphic Transformation Ibis' Notes: Apiary was one of the original members of Justice Unlimited, back when they were known as NuGen, and she perished at the conclusion of The Defiance Unit saga. I never met her myself, but by all accounts she was very much beloved by her team. I know multiple memorials to her exist and they named their headquarters in Horizon after her.
Apiary was a dysmorphic metahuman—she resembled a large, four-armed, bipedal insect, not unlike a honeybee. She had vestigial wings and a full insectoid abdomen. If that was the extent of her power, I wouldn't blink twice. That's a Tuesday for Dr. Mammoth Ibis! No, the true terror of Apiary was her ability to consume and convert living matter. She would ingest organic matter and then extrude into a plasticine-like substance she could control. She often would create drones, including large combat forms. Her mind was like a hive—each body was as much her as any other. Those bodies in turn could convert matter, and now the terror should be obvious. She was living goldnine or, more accurately, a proto-Leviathan.
I will never let Lady Leizi know this, but Scarlet Maturity may have done the world a favor by cutting Apiary's life short. No matter how well-intentioned, she could have been an extinction-level threat.
We should only use her profile with great caution. Her DNA is extremely unstable, and adding it to a dose of goldnine will certainly produce a major side effect. Lady Leizi: Doctor. My office. Now.
You look through the stored profiles and then go to the physical samples. There you see them in storage: Nora, Yazmin, and Towarri. You hesitate to grab them and then sigh. You're being foolishly sentimental. They would want you to use their powers. Keep a part of themselves still alive. You steel your resolve for the hundredth time today and reach for them.
And then the floor beneath you moves you backwards.
You blink in confusion. You can't quite reach them now. So you take a step, only to find the Apiary moving the storage unit away from you. You chase after it and it keeps moving them, until, finally, a section of the wall opens and the unit slides into and carries them away. You try to follow, but find the storage unit has been carried to the center of the Apiary, where the Contingency lies.
The door will not open for you.
You blink in confusion. You know you'll have to earn your way in . . . but how? And why did it take those samples?
* * *
Two days later, the support staff began to move into the Apiary. You believe you will wind up hiring a great number of the civilian refugees as staff, but only after a very, very thorough vetting process.
Menagerie Witch and Black Swan are as spry as ever, but Handyman remains injured if improved.
Today, you have your meeting with New Dawn. You have no reason to believe this will be anything other than a conversation. Who do you bring with you?
[ ] Black Swan
[ ] Menagerie Witch
[ ] Handyman
[ ] No one
What tone do you strike during negotiations?
[ ] Aggressive. New Dawn thinks that you are in the same position as they. They are mistaken. They need your help and, if they want it, they will have to make it worth your while.
[ ] Conciliatory. You two have been the premier heroic organizations in Horizon for the last ten years, and the bad blood between has been ridiculous. You won't be a pushover, but you will do all you can to emphasize you're all on the same team.
[ ] Deceptive. Wolong thinks you're desperate. He doesn't know you know the truth of New Dawn's situation. Let him keep thinking that. See what he's willing to reveal to a person he believes he has one over on.
Gain alliance with Mendicant. Mendicant will sell you a healing symbiote at a rate of 3000 Income per symbiote. Any character whom a healing symbiote is used on will recover all injury levels over the course of one scene.
Gain 3 Shield Generators! Shield Generators will absorb one injury level for the equipped character and then be destroyed.
While waiting in between updates I wrote up an omake backstory for one of my candidates. As it's for the edgelord Samuel, it's darker in tone compared to the main story (even Maddie's intro) or comparable omakes.
Please observe the following trigger warnings before reading:
Descriptions of gore, violence, suicide. Explicit violence against children
All are equal in the face of death.
As a turn of phrase it's patently absurd. In a world of metahumans powerful enough to level cities and survive nuclear bombs, how could it be anything other than the world picking favorites? The chosen few, destined to either lord over or shepherd the rest of us.
And yet, many of them were but feathers under the wings of corporations, squabbling with each other over money and politics in an endless cycle. The faces may change, but the game remains the same. Not so different from the underworld you were familiar with, but fought with cleaner hands the majority of the time.
All are equal in the face of death.
The mantra was useful to cling to when fighting a losing duel. When you were sticking shards of metal in some hapless person's heart. When your own life was draining out onto the floor before your eyes. When you first adopted the moniker Samuel.
And now that phrase continues to echo through your mind as your eyes scan over this latest report. The glowing words on the dimly-lit screen come across as fiction, written by an immature teenager imagining a doomed world in lieu of their own sheltered life. You readily believe and disbelieve them in equal measure. Leviathan stirring from its eternal rest. The majority of the world's heroes dying or going missing. Wonderland collapsing. How many among Justice Unlimited's best could have imagined that they would be puddles of goldnine by the end of the month?
As you flip through multiple displays to corroborate the facts across various sources, you try to avoid thinking too deeply about the implications for your employers. They shall either survive or be consumed in the ensuing chaos. It would be better to not have to change jobs, as it's rare to find organizations in this city that have need of your skills and aren't so two-faced. Though the reason for that is obvious and understandable. Regardless, you will complete your task. Your fingers at the keyboard clack onwards, preparing a compilation that may or may not fall upon closed eyes.
One thing is for certain. It is the end of an era, and the start of a new cycle.
It all began with a simple agreement. A childish contract proposed by a grownup, and then a handshake. Little did the naive boy know, he had shaken hands with the devil. From that day forth his soul fell down to hell.
"Excellent work kid. Sometimes it ain't the strongest who wins," said a suave voice from the edge of the darkness. The person it belonged to stepped out into the light surrounding a ramshackle arena, revealing a wiry man dressed in an immaculate suit. His head was comfortably covered up beneath a fat pork pie hat, tinted sunglasses, and a crimson bandana. He raised his velvet gloves to give a slow clap.
The blood-soaked boy, standing some distance opposite to him among a pile of fresh corpses, did nothing but suck in air with gasping breaths. The clapping stopped, and an expectant silence followed.
"Well c'mon then, what are you waiting for? A cookie?" asked the man.
It was then that something metallic clattered to the floor, and the child cocked his head behind himself to see what it was.
There was a small girl in dirty clothes staring at the boy, wide-eyed. Her right palm was open, and down on the floor below it a pristine dagger came to a rest. He had only seen her at the very start of the game and never again until now. Did she hide the whole time? Maybe she thought that the boy would lay down his knife too, and that together they could stand in defiance of this sadistic game. Or maybe she was about to take her own desperate swing at survival but couldn't muster the will to follow through with it.
"Why?" whispered the boy.
"This game is so stupid. I don't wanna play anymore," said the girl.
His mind flicked back to the start of the game. One of the very first contestants to die flashed in his memory. Everyone had to watch as that poor kid stabbed himself over and over again, compelled by oath. All for the simple act of refusing to step onto the stage.
A solitary bell chimed from up above. "Alright lovebirds, I know you're having a touching farewell but do wrap it up. I have some spare time but we still need to keep to a schedule, so decide who's living and who's dying or you'll both make like Romeo and Juliet."
The boy couldn't comprehend. "Don't you want to live?"
She nodded but her lips curled into a sad smile. "No one will let me."
His mouth opened but he held his tongue. It was a monstrous idea, but it was true. The boy had fought and fought, expending nearly every last ounce of his strength just to last for a few more precious seconds moment by moment. The life he so greedily won from others, to be given away to someone who just stood still and waited for the right moment?
But that was precisely what had happened. His life had been in her hands, and she let go of it. She wouldn't let herself live by staining her own hands. Who knew if the mastermind behind all of this would even let the last survivor go? Still she stood there stubbornly, refusing to try to either live or die. It was maddening. Someone had to make a choice, or they would all be choosing death!
"Why," he could only repeat pathetically.
The girl did not answer him. Could not answer him. So he made the choice that he always made.
After what seemed like an eternity, his leaded feet marched over mechanically. They kicked away the girl's dagger. She did nothing but look away in an attempt to steel herself, like a kid waiting for a jab in the arm at the doctor's office.
He didn't dare meet her gaze. Instead he tightened the grip on his own knife, before winding it up and plunging it directly into her heart. His hand retracted the blade soon after, causing her to stagger backwards as she clutched at her chest. With a dying gasp, she slumped to the ground.
But he swore that he could hear her rasp out some final words.
"Make that man pay…"
The nameless girl stopped moving.
And for a short while, so did the boy.
Another bell rang out.
Out of nowhere a hand grabbed the boy's shoulder, startling him.
"And that's a wrap. First heartbreak is the worst, but you'll get over it." The man bored into him with those pitch black shades of his. They had come to resemble empty sockets more than anything else. "Damn shame that you still don't have powers. We only ended up having a couple kids with them this time and they somehow died to a whelp like you."
This close to the man, the boy contemplated cutting his throat out right then and there. The man had never demonstrated any other powers besides the infernal oath binding them together. If there was just enough delay in the contract's punishment clause, he could drag this devil back to hell along with him.
"Hah, I know that look. You won't get even halfway through your swing if you break your oath now. I'll make you slit your own throat faster than you can cry mommy."
So this was it then. From the beginning the girl saw things more clearly than he did. There was no way this guy would let anyone go after he had his fun.
The man's hand shoved off the boy, who regained his footing a few steps back. "However, to cut loose the star actor of tonight's show like that would leave a bad taste in my mouth. So I'm going to give you a severance package. A contract renegotiation if you will." He reached out to offer another handshake.
The boy's eyes darted back and forth between the twin voids the man had for eyes and the outstretched hand. He blurted, "What's your name, mister?"
"My name?" the man scoffed.
"I can't trust you anymore if I don't know your name."
He gave a menacing chuckle. "You sure are a hoot, kid. The name's Until Death. Promise me that you'll never try to lay hands on me or mess with my business after this now and forever and I'll let you go."
"I promise." The words were sandpaper leaving his mouth. His hand let go of the dripping dagger it was so desperately clinging onto and clasped the man's hand. At the very least, by doing this he could dirty those clean expensive gloves with blood spatters.
"Very good. Now if I were you, I'd skip town. Some random kid going on a psycho massacre doesn't draw much sympathy in these parts as I hear. Especially one murdering an innocent little girl."
With that, the masked man strode off back into the darkness. The harsh spotlights overhead the arena soon followed, leaving the child with nothing but a bitter vow of vengeance.
This is the result of having just watched Battle Royale. It's pretty gratuitous, I imagine it will be changed if Samuel comes up as a candidate. As he is, it's pretty hard to justify JU approving his candidacy. There may be a continuation later on if I care to write it. I am starting to realize that my 2 candidates somewhat reflect more extreme versions of existing characters in the story, not sure if that's a good or bad thing yet.
[X] Plan: Bury the Hatchet v.2
-[X] Black Swan -[X] Menagerie Witch
-[X] Conciliatory. You two have been the premier heroic organizations in Horizon for the last ten years, and the bad blood between has been ridiculous. You won't be a pushover, but you will do all you can to emphasize you're all on the same team.
Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest – Uni District– December 13, 2067
Compared to your trip to the Apiary, traveling to New Dawn's headquarters is positively leisurely. While the Apiary's very size necessitated it being on the outside of the Worker's Mitt, New Dawn's headquarters, the Zenith, was in the heart of Uni District.
To that end, you could just drive there. Black Swan remains delighted by the novelty, but Menagerie Witch is still sulking in the backseat over not being able to bring all her friends for a second consecutive mission. You had argued that you were comfortably certain this meeting was not an ambush and making room for a circus of animals would only delay negotiations. You and Menagerie Witch had gone back and forth for the better part of an hour—the mouth that girl was developing—before she grudgingly agreed to only bring Apep "in case of emergency".
If this turned out to be a trap, she was going to be insufferable.
You turn your attention from the moody teenager you had somehow become responsible for and back to the road. As you do, you can faintly hear the radio:
". . .look, Tomas, killing a Named-Behemoth is a big deal. Especially one that escaped the QZ. It proves Justice Unlimited is still viable and still protecting people's lives. To suggest that we should just ignore that and cede the entire city to Powers and Dominion is—
"Listen, Chichi. Can I call you Chichi?"
"No. My name is Chihiro."
"Chichi, the era of superpowers being in the hands of an elite few is over! Powers and Dominion Security Concerns have democratized the superman! See this app on my phone? If I had the scratch, I—an ordinary guy—could have Scarlet Maturity on speed dial. Anyone—"
"Do you?
"What?"
"Do you have the money to hire Scarlet Maturity?"
"Um . . . no. Uhhh, I could hire Earthen Owl maybe . . .? QUICK GORILLA? No. . . he's too expensive . . ."
You smile to yourself. You love it when a plan comes together.
Minor Success: DC 5. Moderate Success: DC 10. Major Success: DC 15.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 12. Justice Unlimited has a collective REPUTATION 18.
You rolled: 13.
13 + 3 + 5 (Killed a Named Behemoth!) = 21. Critical Success!
+1 to Justice Unlimited's REPUTATION!
The first step to a meeting between equals is to clear the air about any misconceptions, preferably before opinions based on those misconceptions could form. Wolong believed your team to be borderline defunct, in the same dire straits as New Dawn. If you were to approach this meeting as an equal, you had to gently correct that mistaken belief.
So, you applied for the bounty on Floating Venom Morpheme and leaked news of its death to the press as soon as you collected. The 24-hour news cycle took care of the rest for you; it was all anyone had been talking about for days. Now, the entire city and, more importantly, Wolong knew that Justice Unlimited was still an institution to be respected.
As you take the exit to the Uni District and leave the highway, you find there is someone waiting for the three of you. Leaning against a wall is a sharp-dressed man in a three-piece suit, trilby hat, white gloves and a half-mask over his eyes. He's glancing at a pocket watch as you pull your car over.
He approaches you with a large smile. "Ah! Beauty incarnate! That gorgeous coat! Those sleek, sensual curves! Let me take a feel—oooh! Hear her purr!"
"Yes, Gentleman James, my car is quite something," you say dryly, "Now, how can I help you?"
The hero known as Gentleman James takes his hand off the hood of your car and removes his hat to bow. "I come at the behest of our dear leader, Wolong. He thought it only polite that our guests of honor be given a personal escort to the Zenith. When I heard the illustrious Lady Leizi herself was coming—in an automobile nonetheless!—I begged for the chance to guide you."
"I suppose you'll be needing a lift then?" you say with a raised eyebrow.
"I wouldn't refuse!"
Black Swan undoes her seatbelt and flies to the backseat with Menagerie Witch, who scoots over to make room. Gentleman James thanks her and then places himself in the passenger seat.
As you pull back onto the street, he turns around and askes, "And who is this charming young woman?"
"Black Swan!" she says cheerfully, "Nice to metcha!"
"And you!" Gentleman James then turns to Menagerie Witch, who is eyeing him suspiciously. He squints his eyes at her before nodding slowly and tipping his trilby.
"Cool hat."
Menagerie Witch nods slowly back and tips her hat.
"Cool hat."
* * *
Gentleman James is polite, affable, and charming, amusing Menagerie Witch and Black Swan with anecdotes about the Uni District as he directs you to drive by seemingly every major landmark.
"It would be a crime to come here and not see the sights," he says, "Especially in such a voluptuous creature!"
His antics draw a smile, but you don't miss the tightness around his eyes or how the "scenic route" on which he directs you takes you away from the border with the New Industrial District where Wonderland once stood. If you didn't know to look for it, you would have missed it, but Gentleman James was clearly under orders to keep you from seeing what remained of the prison.
As you arrive at the Zenith, you have to resist clicking your touch in disapproval. The Zenith is the definition of too much—a massive, glass skyscraper in the center of town complete with an illuminated rendition of the sun rising over the horizon—the official emblem of New Dawn. You can see helipads sticking out of the upperstories of the building, providing landing pads for fliers or Steelheart's drones, and the front lobby is a museum devoted to the history of the organization—complete with a gift shop.
You vastly preferred the understated elegance of the Bastion, the original headquarters of New Dawn and where NuGen made its home until the Apiary had been built.
But you keep your thoughts to yourself as Black Swan and Menagerie Witch "ooh" and "aah" at the famous building.
You pull up to find a valet waiting for you and two more metahumans, Miss Naught and Palisade. Miss Naught resembles a Hollywood medieval archer with a tunic, thigh-high boots, and bycocket hat. She has a quiver on her back and bow slung across her shoulders with a bright red bullseye on the center of her chest. Palisade looks drab by comparison. She wears black tactical gear and a domino mask, her hair braided in precise rows on her head. Even her personal emblem is simple—an image of a literal wooden palisade.
"Ah, my friends!" Gentleman James says getting out of your car, "Did you miss me so badly, you had to come greet me at the front door?"
Palisade snorts and rolls her eyes while Miss Naught literally pushes Gentleman James aside to introduce herself.
"Miss Naught, archer extraordinaire! Pleased as punch to see you again, Lady Leizi!"
You nod in acknowledgment. "Miss Naught, a pleasure. And Palisade, I'm glad to see you are well."
"Lady Leizi," she greets, "I haven't had the chance to say it yet, but I'm sorry for the rest of your team. We lost a lot of good people in the QZ."
To your surprise, she takes your hand and firmly grasps it. You had worked with both heroines during the many crises that necessitated setting aside grudges, but your relationship with Palisade was frosty in the best of times.
She and Rakeem used to date. She blamed you for the end of the relationship. She wasn't entirely wrong.
You recover quickly and introduce the rest of your team. After exchanging pleasantries, you find yourself being escorted through the Zenith.
What strikes you is the sheer number of non-powered staff there are, moving to and fro, performing all kinds of tasks. You had only been in the Zenith a handful of times—Novalight was careful to keep Justice Unlimited's chief intelligence officer out of New Dawn's headquarters—but there must have been twice as many people working now as there had ever been.
You study Palisade, Miss Naught, and Gentleman James. The three of them, plus Wolong and Dreamcatcher, were all that were left of the metahuman force of New Dawn. Yet, while you could see tension in their bodies, there wasn't despair. They were focused, alert.
Minor Success: DC 5. Moderate Success: DC 10. Major Success: DC 15.
Stat Check: OPERATIONS 12. Lady Leizi, Black Swan, and Menagerie Witch have a collective OPERATIONS 16.
You rolled: 11.
11 + 2 + 3 (You Know the Truth of New Dawn's Situation) = 16. Major Success!
. . . they believed there was hope. And not just them, all of the staff in the Zenith moved with an intense purpose. There were only five metahumans, four combat-types, holding the line against the worst of the worst criminals, and they were holding. That had to instill a certain kind of confidence.
But not only that, they were disciplined. If you weren't . . . well, you, then you would have no idea it was anything other than business as usual in the Uni District. Gentleman James' directions, the presence of three seasoned heroes, the tight ship that was clearly being run, it was all designed to project power and confidence and required the coordination and buy-in of dozens of people.
You quietly raise your estimation of Wolong's leadership abilities.
Eventually, you reach your destination. Not, to your surprise, the iconic half-circle table of New Dawn, but a much more modest conference room where a man in white hechang robes with gold trim sits. On his head is a black guanjin hat which remains still while he cools himself with a fan made of feathers. Wolong stands up and greets you, a small, genuine smile on his face.
"Justice Unlimited. I'm glad to see that, like the phoenix, you have risen again," he says, "Please, sit. I have a pot of tea brewing."
"Oolong?" you ask, sitting opposite him on the table.
"Am I a savage? Of course."
Black Swan and Menagerie Witch sit on either side of you, while Palisade and Gentleman James sit with Wolong. Miss Naught gives an apology and leaves with an explanation of "patrol". You make idle small talk while the tea finishes, and, once it does, Wolong pours a cup for everyone but Menagerie Witch.
She is much too young for caffeine.
As you wait for it to cool, Wolong makes the first move.
"I often used to wonder," he says, "How much more good the heroes of this city could do if we worked together instead of bickering like schoolchildren."
"A worthy thought," you agree neutrally, "But not one I'm certain was shared by the rest of New Dawn."
Wolong bobs his head and acknowledges the point, "Novalight held long grudges tight to her chest. She never forgave the 'betrayal' that was the loss of NuGen. She couldn't see how the 'traitors' formed a heroic organization that eclipsed New Dawn in less than a decade."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, darling."
"I mean it," Wolong says, "The seven of you saved this city time after time with a fraction of New Dawn's resources. And now, even after the horror that was the Movement, I find Justice Unlimited still somehow defeating a Named Behemoths with a scant three members."
You note the inaccuracy there. Either Wolong is playing dumb—unlikely—or he has no idea Handyman exists.
"I confess, I was afraid the heroes of New Dawn stood alone," Wolong says. You don't miss the slight against Powers there, not that you necessarily disagree. He continues, "But I'm heartened to see the new generation already stepping up. It is a pleasure, Black Swan and Menagerie Witch."
"Aww, thankies! And this tea is great."
" . . . why did New Dawn let Le Petit Prince kill my mom?"
The room goes dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. You're not the only one looking at Menagerie Witch in shock.
The girl is boring a hole in Wolong with her eyes, her gaze unwavering. Her voice shakes, but she forces herself to speak. "No one's supposed to be able to escape Wonderland, right? So how'd he get out? W-why'd he come where I lived?"
Menagerie Witch stands up suddenly, her chair clattering the floor behind her.
"Why didn't anyone from New Dawn help?! W-when he started killing everyone?! When he killed M-m-mom—" Menagerie Witch breaks into furious tears. "Where were you?! I was alone with him for a week! I-f Lady L-leizi hadn't saved me . . . I'd . . . I'd have . . ."
Menagerie Witch devolves into full sobs that render her speech incoherent. Black Swan immediately scoops her into a great hug and you're not far behind.
DC 13.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 12. Lady Leizi, Black Swan, and Menagerie Witch have a collective REPUTATION 16.
You rolled: 16.
16 + 2 + 3 (She is Proof of His Failure) = 21. Critical Success!
Wolong looks shaken to his core. Gentleman James gets up and hands Menagerie Witch a glass of water and offers to take her and Black Swan somewhere private, when Wolong stops him.
"No, wait . . . I would hear Menagerie Witch's story, if she wishes to share it."
"F-fine," Menagerie Witch takes a greedy gulp of water, much of which ends up on her costume, "You want to know? You want to know? I'll tell you!"
What follows is a fiery retelling of Madeline's story. She begins to cry at different points, but manages to pull herself together and tell the whole tale.
By the end Gentleman James has taken his hat off his head and placed it over his heart.
"Meu deus . . ."
Palisade is pale and hisses furiously to Wolong, "Le Petit Prince has new powers too. It has to be her—" she bites her tongue when she sees you listening.
Wolong's expression is fixed, but his eyes are haunted. At some point he sat back in his seat and still hasn't risen.
"Gentleman James . . . I think there's ice cream in the cafeteria. Why don't you take Black Swan and Menagerie Witch for some? Palisade, you go too. I think this young woman deserves . . . I think that's the least she deserves after sharing that story."
Palisade hisses again, "Gabriel, you shouldn't—"
"Please, Renee. Just go with them. Please."
Palisade looks mutinous for a second but gets up and leaves with Gentleman James. Black Swan looks at you and you give her a nod. She and Menagerie Witch follow.
Now it's just you and Wolong. The room is silent for a long time, the only sound is the ticking of the ancient analog clock on the wall. Then, he gets up and bows until his head is level with the table.
"I am truly sorry, from the bottom of my heart," he warbles. You feel yourself flush slightly with embarrassment; he sounds like he's about to cry. "I have failed that young woman. Please, convey to her my deepest, sincerest apologies. Nothing I ever do can make it right. New Dawn should have done something."
"Wolong . . . Gabriel," you say, his legal name unfamiliar on your tongue, "There was nothing you could have done."
"We could have done something!"
"No," you say, rising and putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, "You couldn't have. I know, Gabriel."
He looks up at you, unshed tears in his eyes. ". . . you know?"
He sits back down and lets out a rusty laugh. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I can keep nothing secret from the Lady Leizi. How much do you know?"
You sit down as well, "Everything, Gabriel, I know everything. The four of you and Dreamcatcher are all that's left. The only thing I don't know is: where is Arc?"
DC 15.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 15. Lady Leizi has a REPUTATION 4.
Wolong looks away from and swallows a lump in his throat. He thinks for a moment, before standing up.
"Follow me. I'll tell you everything."
* * *
The beeping of machines and stinging scent of antiseptic brings unpleasant memories of your most recent stay in the infirmary to bear, but nothing is as disconcerting as the sight of Arc in the bed.
Arc's body is as destroyed as one can be while still being shaped like a human being. She's missing every limb except her right arm, and even then she only has three fingers remaining on her hand. More disturbing however, are the chunks of missing flesh all over her body, like pockmarks in the sand. In many places her body is missing skin all together, as if she's been flayed, displaying muscle and veins to the open air. If it were not for the countless machines she was attached to, you have no doubt she'd expire in moments.
You and Wolong gaze at her behind a window, and Wolong speaks, his eyes distant.
"Her power saved her," he says, "She was fighting in the deepest part of the QZ, where Valiant Silver sent off that psychic pulse that stopped the Leviathan."
You remember it well. There were a handful of heroes keeping the Behemoths away from Nora as she tried to end the madness. Arc was one of them.
"But eventually, she was grabbed by a beast and dragged into goldnine. Her power lets her reflect any harmful action against her, but it doesn't always protect her." He gestures to the window. "This is what her power did to stop the goldnine exposure."
"Leviathan's Blood," you breathe, before realizing how insensitive that oath is.
Fortunately, Wolong just lets out a bitter bark of laughter. "Don't worry, you're not alone. I've said that a few times at inopportune moments."
He turns back to Arc and his expression is melancholy again. "I don't even know if she's alive in there. Or if she's in pain."
He looks at you, lost, "Am I merely being selfish? Keeping her alive in hopes she'll come back to us?"
An part of your soul can't help but think about the potency of Arc's power and how it could be used for Project Prometheus—
You can be more.
—you crush it as the unworthy thought it is. Instead, you're honest with Wolong and say, "I don't know. If it were Rakeem or Nora . . . I cannot say I would let them go either."
Wolong smiles mirthlessly. "It is so hard to let go, isn't it. Ah, but I couldn't afford to, even if that was what I wished."
He pulls himself away from the window and pulls a screen out of a pocket, "You may be wondering, 'Why keep up this charade?' Why all the obfuscation? Why work myself and what remains of New Dawn to the point of collapse instead of coming clean?"
You close your eyes, "The inmates from Wonderland. They've been too quiet."
He lets out another burst of pained laughter, "I suppose I should thank the heavens my enemies are not as cunning as you. Yes, you're exactly right. They're organizing. Organized I should say. Around her."
Wolong pulls up an image and hands you the screen. On it is a pale woman dressed in what looks like a mixture of black leather and medieval armor. Wickedly sharp pauldrons frame her head as she lounges imperially in a chair stacked on top of countless shackles. On her head is a seven pointed crown of dark obsidian, with long protrusions that fall on her brow.
"Her name is Vitória Ximenes Rios, but now she calls herself 'Monarch'," he says, "She was a petty thief who found her way into Wonderland because of her power. She could link any two points in space together in such a way that something could travel between them instantaneously. It was as if the two points were right next to each other, and even momentum was preserved during travel."
". . . so she couldn't be housed in a regular prison," you finish.
"Exactly. And for that crime, we threw her in a facility with the likes of monsters like Acid Rain and Stitches. What did we think would happen to her?" he shouts as he pounds the window.
He angrily glares at his reflection. "Menagerie Witch was right. Wonderland shouldn't have failed so utterly. We didn't know if Cisma's barriers would survive her death, so we took precautions. It should have taken years for anyone to escape."
"But-for the perfect escape artist."
"Yes," he breathes, "She went rotten in there. She broke them out and, in exchange, she earned their loyalty. Now we all will suffer. The only reason she hasn't declared all-out war is that her position is precarious. Everyone of her lieutenants would stab her in the back without hesitation. I've been chipping away at the power base, piece by piece. Leaving her unbalanced, uncertain when the real offensive from New Dawn will come."
"But it never will. And eventually, she'll realize that." You feel cold. This is much, much worse than you thought.
Wolong seizes your hand with both of his, "That's why I need your help. I need you to help keep her fearful, keep her afraid. We can't challenge her directly yet, but there are several inmates who are isolated and safe targets. Take them out, and the other inmates will begin to wonder if she really can keep them safe."
"Gabriel, we will need somewhere to imprison them unless you expect us to start executing everyone we capture."
"No, that will only escalate the situation. I have a plan for a second Wonderland, but . . . it's risky. I need to know that you'll help us first."
DC 15.
Stat Check: REPUTATION 12. Lady Leizi has a REPUTATION 4.
You rolled: 12.
12 - 4 + 5 (Wolong is Vulnerable) + 5 (Wolong Has Confided in You Once Already) = 18. Success!
Wolong stares at Arc for a long time, balling his fists. His breathing turns heavy, and when he looks at you, he is shaking with rage.
"Yelena—Novalight—left us with nothing. Our finances have been mismanaged for years. We have no allies, no new generation of metahumans in waiting, no equipment to arm our non-powered agents. This organization was wholly dependent on her because she genuinely could not imagine a day would come where she would not be in charge."
He punches a wall and then pulls his fist back, absent-mindedly rubbing his bruised knuckles.
"I . . . I've done everything I can to keep New Dawn above water. Every plan I could think of, every clever strategy, I've maximized our resources again and again and again, but I can't squeeze blood from a stone!"
He pulls his hat off and runs his hand through his hair, turning it messy. "Everyone needs me to keep it together. Everyone needs me to be strong. But I don't know how anymore!"
He looks to you, begging with his eyes, "How do you do it, Lady Leizi? How do you keep going? How do you find hope?"
You pause and choose your words very, very carefully. A quiet, scheming voice in your mind tells you that Wolong is more vulnerable and disillusioned right now than he will ever be again.
He's also a good, decent man who is in over his head, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and alone.
You're certain it would be trivial to get him to agree to whatever alliance you propose. The question is what do you want?
Now is the time to decide the nature of the alliance between Justice Unlimited and New Dawn. Below are several options on what you can offer Wolong. Each carries its own point total.
[ ] Commit to finishing mission "Grand Theft Person". (Must finish mission in three issues, not counting current issue. Mission will cost 1 AP.) 1 point.
[ ] Commit to finishing mission "The Air in the Valley". (Must finish mission in three issues, not counting current issue. Mission will cost 1 AP.) 1 point.
[ ] Commit to finishing mission "Long Shadows of the Night". (Must finish mission in three issues, not counting current issue. Mission will cost 1 AP.) 1 point.
[ ] Commit to discovering information about Monarch. (Lady Leizi must take personal action "The Spider's Web" and choose Monarch next issue.) 2 points.
[ ] Offer Menagerie Witch's one-time assistance with patrols in the Uni District (Menagerie Witch will not be available for one mission next issue). 3 points.
[ ] Offer Handyman's one-time assistance with patrols in the Uni District (Handyman will not be available for one mission next issue). 3 points.
[ ] Offer Black Swan's one-time assistance with patrols in the Uni District (Black Swan will not be available for one mission next issue). 5 points.
[ ] Facilitate a purchase of one of Mendicants Symbiotes to heal Arc. (Justice Unlimited will not be able to purchase symbiotes from Mendicant for two issues, New Dawn will provide the funds). 7 points.
[ ] Allow Wolong to use Apiary's facilities for New Dawn missions. (-3 to global OPERATIONS and -3 to global ESPIONAGE.) 7 points.
[ ] Inform Wolong of Project Prometheus. 15 points.
The amount of points of the actions offered by Lady Leizi will dictate the nature of the alliance between New Dawn and Justice Unlimited
3 points — Friendly Working Relationship
(Wolong will provide relevant intel on Monarch's Faction, Wolong will reveal information about plan for New Wonderland, Wolong will allow a cursory glance a New Dawn's medical records—+3 DNA Profiles)
15 points — Formal Alliance, Equal Partnership
(Wolong will provide relevant intel on Monarch's Faction, Wolong will reveal information about plan for New Wonderland, Wolong will allow a detailed examination of New Dawn's medical records—+6 DNA Profiles, Unlocks Uni District as possible territory for Justice Unlimited, New Dawn's Metahumans will aid you on New Dawn-related missions)
31 points — Formal Alliance, New Dawn Subordinate to Justice Unlimited
(Wolong will provide relevant intel on Monarch's Faction, Wolong will reveal information about plan for New Wonderland, Wolong will give you a copy of New Dawn's medical records—+10 DNA Profiles, New Dawn will share control of Uni District with Justice Unlimited—+1500 Income/turn, Access to the Zenith as a base—+1 AP, +1 Global AP, +2 New Metahuman slots, New Dawn's Metahumans will aid you once per issue on any mission of your choosing, Wolong will assist with discovery Ambrosia power synergies once per issue, Wolong will be brought into Justice Unlimited's inner circle as affiliate member, Options to fully absorb New Dawn in future missions)
It was a day like any other when it happened. As much as any day in the post-Leviathan chaotic world could be a 'day like any other'.
Ernesto Cruz, owner of a small bodega in the Old Industrial District, had started off his day normally. People came in, bought what they needed, and then left.
That changed when they came in.
"Money in the bag, and nobody gets hurt!"
Three men in ski masks take control of the small bodega, armed with two pistols and a shotgun. The shotgun-toting leader aims it at the man behind the register, while Subordinate One places a bag on the counter, his gun trained at the door to keep an eye out for anyone trying to come in. Subordinate Two has a gun trained at the few people inside, to keep them from getting out.
"And don't even think about trying to press any sort of button under the counter." The leader of the trio leans forward a little more, the shotgun's barrel looming in the store owner's face.
"O-okay, okay! Calm down!" The owner opens the cash register and takes the bag, starting to fill it.
But as he does so, he looks at one of the customers, a girl with red hair, around 17. She sees his look and nods, and slyly, pulls her phone out. She takes care to hide it as she types out a fast message.
"bodega on fifth help"
Keith Mondego is, technically, a hero. People like him.
But there is a major gap between the big players- New Dawn, Justice Unlimited, Powers, Global Justice… and someone like him.
He doesn't have flashy bases, high-tech security systems, support gear, or big vehicles.
No, he has a shitty apartment, a few contacts, a beat-up old motorcycle, and determination.
He is a metahuman. He can claim that at least. But he doesn't have the biggest power in the world.
Whenever he's struck with physical force, whether it be a brief shoulder check, a push, a punch or kick, or even a gunshot wound, his body absorbs the kinetic energy enacted against him. Once absorbed, it's stored, and he can release it back, either through his own punches and kicks, or in a wider, but more destructive, blast.
Hence, the codename: Counterstrike.
The problem is that Keith isn't any tougher than the average person. There's no defensive reduction in order to make him more able to absorb the energy needed to strike back with real force. And a power that requires you to get the shit kicked out of you in order to use it is not the most useful thing in the world.
Gym visits and his boxing club do help him get energy into his system on a semi-consistent basis, so he can do something when a fight starts without having to take something to the face, at least. But it's not the biggest or flashiest power in the world, not like Uiara's hydrokinesis, or the raw genius of an Algernon, or anything on that level.
But it's enough for street-level gangbangers, the occasional bigger one like that Demon Flamez splinter group…
And with Horizon royally fucked by Leviathan killing everyone, everywhere, that meant that a lot of the smaller fry were coming out of the woodwork, using the chaos as an opportunity to expand, make quick cash, or just get some semblance of power before some new order took over.
And with the big shots tending their own wounds, the little guys are getting fucked over extra hard. Which means the street-level heroes, the ones without flashy sponsorships and advertisements and labs, have to work overtime.
Keith felt like he'd been working overtime for a goddamn year. Within the last few days, he'd dealt with muggers, thieves, a few gangs, and more streakers than you could shake a stick at.
Still, you had to pull your big boy pants up sometimes and do the right fucking thing. Which meant answering Hazel's distress text and stopping by the bodega on Fifth Street to stop whatever was happening.
Keith slid on his motorcycle jacket and helmet and drove over quickly, parking in a nearby alleyway and moving in on foot, moving around the corner before peaking through a window.
Hazel. Señor Cruz, the owner. Other people. Three thieves.
"Oy! Pendejos!"
Keith-no, now it's Counterstrike, motorcycle helmet and jacket still on, moves into the bodega, cracking his knuckles.
"Who the fuck is that?" Subordinate One asks, training the gun on him.
"Shit. It's that rookie with the strength and the force blast!" The leader with the shotgun turns, letting Mr. Cruz duck to the floor.
"I see you've heard of me. But call me Counterstrike."
Subordinate One fires his pistol, but Counterstrike rolls to the side, out of the bullet's way. He gets into a boxing stance and then dashes forward, punching the first man in the gut.
When he went into the store, his internal storage of kinetic energy was at about 45% of his maximum. From what Counterstrike had read, most metahumans who relied on some source of energy for their powers managed to get a good sense of gauging how much they had in them as they got more experienced. That had been true of him. Once he got used to taking in the energy from attacks and then unleashing it for strength and blasts, he started developing an internal meter for how much he was using and how much he had stored up.
Counterstrike let loose 5% of the stored energy, sending the man flying back into the wall, not enough to dent the plaster but further than a normal punch would have sent him flying.
That stunned the group enough that Counterstrike could grab the leader by the wrist and twist the shotgun to the ground, disarming him. Moving into a judo throw, grappling the leader by his shirt and wrist, Counterstrike used another 3% to hoist the man over his head and slam him into the ground behind him.
At that point, Subordinate Two was shaking a little, but still held his pistol at Counterstrike, whose gaze was hidden behind the motorcycle helmet.
"If you surrender now, I'll be a little more lenient. Are you free agents? Did the Flamez set you up for this? Maybe you have a contract with Powers, the assholes that they are?"
The pistol-holding robber doesn't emote, owing to the ski mask, but he still seems nervous.
"B-boss?"
Shit. Kept his eye off him!
Keith turned to look at the boss, who had re-grabbed his shotgun and aimed at his back behind him.
"Be a good little boy, walk and stay with the rest of them, and let us have our money."
"Mr. Cruz?" Keith spoke to the bodega owner, still hiding behind the counter.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
"It is fine. You did your best. You are stretched very thin these days."
"What? No. I'm not sorry for not being able to stop them. I'm sorry for what I'm about to do."
In a fast moment, Keith turned around and punched at the boss of the operation, letting loose a blast of about 11%, more than enough to send the shotgun wielder flying through the glass doors and into the street.
The glass shatters on impact, spraying outwards as the leader of the thief trio slams into the ground. Keith looks over his shoulder at Subordinate Two, who runs past him, and Subordinate One joins him as they dash away, picking up their boss and running into an alleyway.
"TRY THAT SHIT ANOTHER TIME, AND I KICK YOUR ASS AGAIN!" Keith shouted at the fleeing criminals, before turning around to make sure everyone is okay.
"Thanks for coming." Hazel stood up and came closer to Keith.
"It's no problem. This is my role, helping the little guys that are beneath notice."
"…you're still going to have to help clean that up…" Señor Cruz cut in, a little annoyed.
"Oh, of course. Point me to the broom and I'll sweep the glass up myself."
"I'll help as well, I did send him here."
Señor Cruz got the cleaning supplies and soon enough, Keith and Hazel were sweeping the glass to be disposed of.
"Do you already have a repair guy who can handle this, or could I recommend my uncle help with this?" Hazel asked the bodega owner.
"I do know someone, but if your uncle has better rates, I'll listen."
Keith smirked under his helmet. Hazel was a ruthless self-promoter. In addition to basically doing his PR for free, texting him if a situation was happening where he could help, she also had plenty of cousins, uncles, and aunts who lived in Horizon and were willing to use her as a marketing tactic. Oh, you just so happened to need something? I have a family member who can do it!
It was part of what Keith found charming about her, her rugged determination. No metahuman powers but a relentless can-do attitude and connections. Hopefully one day it'd pay off and actually make her family a bit more money.
But for now, she had to keep hustling.
After a bit of work, the glass was all swept up, "Uncle Vic" had a lead on a new glass door to repair, and Keith got back on his bike, with Hazel on the back.
"Where you headed?"
"You caught me at a good time, I didn't really have anything to do at the time. But now? I wanna catch up with Mr. Song. That throw he taught me worked perfectly."
"I saw! You hurled that guy right over your head, how much did you use?"
"3%."
"Wow. I would have thought 7%, at least."
"It's not about having the most strength, it's about how you use it. Firm footing and a good grip, those help a lot."
"I'll come along, but I won't stay for a full session. I'll probably swing by Jack's bookstore and read something."
"That reminds me, do you still have a copy of Pride and Prejudice? I'm thinking of doing it for my book report."
"Oh, yeah, sure, I can loan you it in a day or two."
"Great."
Hazel latched her hands around Keith's stomach as they drove to Mr. Song's dojo, parking the bike in front of it.
"Mr. Song?" Keith spoke loudly but didn't yell as he walked in.
"Mondego? You're here early. And Miss Evans, as well."
"Just dealt with some cheap thieves that were trying to hold up Mr. Cruz's bodega on Fifth."
"You clearly won, obviously." Mr. Song smirked as he said that, proud of his star pupil.
"Yeah. That throw, with just a little bit of my power, threw a guy over my head. Complete 180-degree arc."
"I'm glad you're using my teachings well, Mondego. The city needs a next generation of heroes, and even if people like me or Miss Evans can't go flying around blasting lasers out of our hands, we can set people like you up for success."
Keith blushed a little. "… thank you, sensei."
"Well, then, I still think you can improve. Get on the mat and let's see how you apply what you've learned. And don't worry, I'll get some more kinetic energy into you." Mr. Song's smirk widened as he moved back.
"Alright, enjoy beating the snot out of each other. See you in 3rd period, Keith."
"Love you, Haze." Keith blew a kiss at his girlfriend as he went to take off his motorcycle jacket and prepare to spar.
The world was in a chaotic state.
But in times of chaos, talented youth will rise with it, with the guidance of supportive elders and the assistance of peers.
"Why don't you try applying to one of the other groups, Mondego?" Mr. Song asked as Keith got into position.
"…Honestly? I like staying local. I'm certain I could do more with my power, but… I don't want to lose touch with my roots. I don't want to be living in some ivory tower, only dealing with big threats."
"Well, you could still try to link up with them. Be a liaison, assisting in some capacity."
"…I'll think about it, at least. I'm certain that Hazel would relish the opportunity to plug her family's businesses to them."
"You're still young. You have time. That new Black Swan girl in Justice Unlimited is only two years older than you. Hell, they've got a girl younger than you who just joined up with them."
Keith moved in to strike, and Mr. Song moved like a snake to grab him by the wrist and throw him onto the ground.
"And you are still easily distracted."
Keith exhaled as he hit the ground, then got back up.
He still had a ways to go, but in Horizon, the sky was the limit.
Trigger Warning for Trypophobia, Body Horror, Self Harm and Generally Gross Stuff
You are Franz Marshall, and there is something wet under your skin.
It is warm. Spongey. It forms holes in your skin and burrows its way deeply. You try to pick at them with a lot of things. First your fingernails, and then a knife. You rip at them until they bleed and weep pus onto the ground, and at first you were disgusted but now it's beautiful and freeing, like the concept of purification.
The thing beneath your skin sings again, and it buzzes and crawls and you can feel it crawling beneath your pores. How lovely. How beautiful.
Your eyes, which are no longer yours alone, trawls onto the screen. Pictures of bright men and women on the screen. Once they were your idols, your heroes. Those who you loved with your entire heart and soul.
Now, they are a mockery. A hollow husk. A lot of them died out.
You can understand that.
..You're hollow too.
This apartment felt comforting to you now. With its fleshy walls, warm and tight. Inviting and welcoming. You think any guest would love to be inside, but it's difficult because nobody ever comes to visit you.
If you were a hero, you're sure you'd be loved. You'd finally do something useful for once. You wouldn't be despised anymore. No more days of dealing with ugly, icky businessmen in cold suits and unflinching stares. No more dealing with coworkers who whisper behind your back.
You'll just hollow it out now. Hollow all of it out. Deep deep deep deep deeeeeeeeeeeep down.. until all of it becomes as ugly beautiful as you are.
The worms sense your agitation, and they vomit themselves into the air, squirming from the open holes in your skin. Their wet sounds add to the orchestra. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the lit screen and find yourself flinching away in horror, before you laugh. How silly of you! Nothing was wrong. You just ate a lot more now but that's fine because eating makes you feel good and complete and..
There was a knock at the door. You don't answer.
The wings of your friends drown out the screams outside with their beautiful symphony and you appreciate nothing more.
You want to curl up here forever, curl up like a cocoon and burst out like a heavenly butterfly. Brilliant and sharp and beautiful. You don't know when this changed. You just knew that you woke up like this once and you are repulsed with the creature you've become
couldn't be happier.
The door is caving in now, and you want to scream. "Leave me alone!" Why now? Why care now? They've never cared about you before, so why are they ripping away your happiness now?
The door shatters and that horrid light pours in. You hate it. Hate it with your soul and being. You have to flee! Need to run!
You pour yourself through the gaps and fly out. Past past paaaaaaast the screams.
Abigail Bailey was.. not someone you'd call polite.
She'd never seen the need to mince her words or be polite to her tenants more than what was strictly necessary. False pleasantries reeked of an unctuous pretense, and she detested pretenses more than anything in this world.
That being said, she was still a human being with a heart, so when one of the tenants complained about the man living in room 432 not having left his room in almost a month now and an odd smell radiating from his room, she had been.. worried.
So here she was. Pounding on the door like a madwoman, surrounded by a group she'd managed to press into helping her. "Sir?" She called out, and her voice was shaky and odd, which she despised. She didn't falter for anything. The odor was almost unbearable, and it wasn't anything that she could describe. It smelled like a festering wound that's been left open to rot.
"Is everything alright in there? Sir?" She pounded on the door again, and pressed her head onto the doorway so she could attempt to listen to what's inside.
There's nothing but buzzing on the other side, and that's when she made up her mind. Something was seriously odd here. She gestured to the group behind her and motioned for them to break the door down. The men threw themselves at the thing, pounding on it with as much force as their bodies could muster.
It splintered, cracked, and ultimately shattered under the onslaught.
And that was when everything went to hell.
There was a veritable torrent of insects that hurled out of the doorway. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands of them even. She however, was currently not in any position to examine how many of them there were, because they were currently nipping at her skin, and it hurts. How it hurts.
It wasn't like a normal insect bite. It was like someone had poured acid on her skin and it was now rotting away. She could feel herself melting.. her skin curling under the onslaught of acidic venom. She felt her eyes rolling into her skull as they poured themselves down her throat, her muscles contracting and seizing up. And they were growing, the more insects gorged themselves on her flesh, the more popped up from beneath her skin. They were inside, inside of her.
And the final sight she could muster before her vision gave way to nothing was the barely humanoid figure surrounded by insects floating up towards the night sky.
A/N: Wanted to try something horror like! Yippee! It turned out pretty well :3 Here's the backstory for my metahuman!
There must always be someone on The Frozen Throne.
Gaspard Girardot knew this as surely as he knew his own name. Everyone in the Frozen Throne knew this truth, it was immutable as the pale white sky.
Gaspard found himself shivering and redoubled his efforts—a chill now would be fatal. The area around him—the area everywhere in the Frozen Throne—was composed of buildings constructed from a transparent, blue crystal. It was so cold it burned to touch, even as it wicked away heat, movement, and life.
That was the price the Frozen Throne enacted for trespassing on its person. Once you stepped inside, there was no leaving. A man could walk in the same direction for three days and three nights and end up right where he started. You couldn't trust the size of buildings and alleyways—sometimes they would stretch themselves on forever, the doorway always seeming just within reach. Sometimes they would shrink as you moved, collapsing around your head and squeezing, squeezing, until you were trapped and became one with the landscape.
One could not find food unless the Throne willed it. Safe places to sleep were for the chosen few. Stopping for too long meant the cold would get into your bones, taking everything for the Throne until there was nothing left of you.
And no matter where you went, you could always see it out of the corner of your eye. A frozen body with a crown of ice sitting atop a towering throne the size of mountains.
There must always be someone on The Frozen Throne.
Gaspard had lived here for twelve years, left in this icy wasteland as a boy. It was a favored place to dispose of unwanted things, and his mother must have felt that way about him. She shepherded him here and disappeared forever with her new husband.
Back then, there were old-heads, people who could remember this place when it was called Hyland Park. One day the Frozen Throne appeared and silently declared its sovereignty over the area. According to them, year by year it slowly grew, taking new territory by inches. There used to be more outsiders then, lured by the promise of great treasures if they could brave the environment. Others came to see if they could defeat the Throne and stop its expansion. Others were just curious.
They all become one with the Throne. Outsiders were a rarity now.
Gaspard was blessed not only by the Throne, but by the heavens. An old-head told him he was a "metahuman", a person granted special powers that put them above all others. All Gaspard knew was that he could devour the feelings of others for himself and, from them, grow strong. Strong enough to resist the summons that echoed in his head.
For, occasionally the body sitting atop the snowy mountain would shatter and break, too rotten to be of use anymore. Then the Throne would call upon one its subjects whom it suffered to live to sit on it anew. The summons was compulsory, irresistible, to be a frosted corpse in service to this place.
Gaspard knew that a new Sovereign was due soon. He knew the Throne desired him and grew frustrated with his recalcitrance. He also knew he wasn't strong enough yet to resist—he must feed, become mighty to disobey the orders that echoed in his soul.
And so he hunted, but prey was scarce. The Throne was mocking him, sending him down spiraling corridors into infinity. It was trying to starve him, make him weak. He shivered again and began to feel despair when he heard it.
"Fala, amigão! What's with you guys, being all friendly? Getting a little close, yeah?"
Prey! Gaspard teleported, confusing the Throne and charged towards the voices. He saw several other subjects—no long for this word, they already had icicles in their hair—going after a young, skinny boy with dark skin wearing a jacket that was an eye-searing shade of green and yellow. Gaspard felt little but dull fear from the subjects, and consumed their emotions without a second thought. But they boy, he was brimming with joy and curiosity. Something . . . something Gaspard hadn't tasted in a long time.
Was he an outsider? Did he have news of the world beyond the Throne? Gaspard decided to take the risk and appeared before him.
"Meu deus! Give a little warning, guy! I nearly met my avó too soon!"
"Who . . ." Gaspard croaked, this throat hoarse through disuse, "Who are you?"
"Ah! So glad you asked!" He struck a pose, holding up a camera with a large lens, "I am Marcos Medeiros de Canto! But you may call me, Memoria!"
Gaspard laughed unkindly, "I'll call you a fool. You'll never leave now that you're here."
"I have my ways of coming and going, but thank you for worrying about me!" He fished a thermos out of a backpack and spread a blanket on the ground. "Now, I was about to have lunch. I can't let my savior go hungry! Would you care to join me?"
"You have food?!" Gaspard could feel the hunger clawing at his belly.
"But of course! Hot soup courtesy of minha irmã. Have a cup, why don't you?"
Memoria unscrewed the lid and poured a long draft of a hot liquid whose smell made Gaspard's mouth water. He snatched it as soon as Memoria held it out to him, greedily drinking so fast that he choked on the vegetables floating with him.
"Hey, hey! Slow down! It's not going anywhere! Food should be savored, yeah?"
Gaspard didn't respond, but slowed down all the same.
Memoria looked around. "I'm something of a traveler. I want to see the whole world and capture it with my camera here."
He held it up and pointed it at Gaspard. "Say cheese!"
It went off with a click and blinding flash, and he continued, "I came here because the Frozen Throne has always been in my backyard, but I've never stopped by. And you know what? This place stinks! It's cold and the locals are rude. How do you live here?"
Gaspard let out a mocking shriek of laughter. "Live here? We are trapped here. We live because the Throne has use for us."
"Hmm, so you would leave if you could?"
"I told you once, boy! No one can leave!" There must always be someone on The Frozen Throne.
Memoria hummed but didn't reply. Instead he fished around in his breast pocket until he pulled out a picture.
"This is my sister's bar. She serves food too, but the alcohol is where the money is at." The photo was of a small, dingy building with tables and chairs, as well as a long bar with dozens of colored bottles. It looked so beautiful Gaspard felt tears in his eyes.
"Why would you ever leave there?" he whispered.
"Because I can always go back," Memoria replied, "Which is why I keep this picture next to my heart. Now answer my question: would you leave if you could?"
There must always be someone on The Frozen Throne.
"Yes."
"Then take my hand, meu amigo." Memoria held out his palm. After a second, Gaspard took it.
And the world changed. The picture grew and grew until it filled his vision, the icy wind that had been there for his entire life, gone. The sounds and smells threatened to overwhelm him as he distantly could hear someone shouting.
"Marcos! Porra, tu tá de sacanagem comigo! What have I told you about just appearing here!? And right before opening!"
"Irmã, irmã! I'm a hero! I'm doing a good deed!"
"A good—Que porra é essa? Who is this homeless boy on my floor!?"
The words drifted over Gaspard, but he paid them no mind. He was warm, so warm that a smile came to his face as he slipped into his first peaceful sleep in a decade.
There must always be someone on The Frozen Throne.
