Plan veekie: What Could Have Been
Dinah Alcott - Earth Bet - Feb 24, 2011
You awaken in a chic little ice cream shop, sitting on an art deco chair made of wrought iron. On the glass topped table in front of you sits a half-melted banana split, complete with two spoons. There's no one with you, and you fail to taste ice cream in your mouth; the presence of the second spoon briefly baffles you before you put it out of your mind.
There is an eerie quiet in the air. The shop is completely deserted, and several of the tables and chairs are overturned. You look outside through a large picture window, and fail to see any of the myriad signs of life that a modern city like the one you seem to find yourself in should boast. There are skyscrapers and gleaming steel buildings nearby, and several automobiles "parked" haphazardly in the street, seemingly abandoned.
You take stock of your situation. Just seconds before you remember existing as a non-corporeal entity composed solely of thought and light; you know this to be the truth. Just second before you were also a being of flesh and blood, and this is true as well. Your name is Dinah Alcott, and you are one of the relatively few survivors of an apocalyptic battle that claimed billions of lives as it was waged across an untold number of alternate worlds.
You weren't one of the untold billions clinging to their loved ones in their homes, cowering and waiting for their inevitable doom. No. You were one of the Generals leading the fight, sacrificing everything to put down a Godlike being that threatened the survival of the entire human species, not just on a single world, but on every Earth in the whole of the multiverse.
You remember the end of the battle, of losing one of your most precious people. The woman who saved the species. The same girl who saved you from a pitiful, captive existence, as nothing more than the pet oracle for a third-rate megalomaniac named Coil. The battled that they called the "Golden Morning" had been over a year ago from your perspective, but recalling it now, it felt as if it could have taken place yesterday.
You take stock of yourself, looking into a conveniently placed mirror on one of the walls of the ice cream shop. Your mother, God rest her soul, would never be able to reconcile your current appearance with that of the cute little 12-year old you had been when you first Triggered. You are a well-muscled and confident woman of 16, with a somewhat modest figure and short hair in a pixie cut. Your eyes are hard, unflinching chips of eyes set into your still-youthful face. Your look dangerous, and you are. You are proud of this fact, as you should be.
[1 Point Left Over. Roll (1) D100 for Useful Items - Result: 81 - Obtained Epic Tinker-Tech Sidearm]
You are wearing your perpetual set of forest camo pattern BDUs. You have on the BDU pants and jacket, a tee with the same camo pattern underneath. Riding above your hips is a web belt, which holds a dozen different pouches and containers, each containing a useful item. A holster on your right side contains a powerful tinker-tech energy weapon, designed and built by your world's copy of Dragon, the greatest Tinker in all the worlds. It has several firing modes; from a low-lethality lased electricity beam that merely stuns, to high-intensity pulsed disintegration blasts that can turn even Tinker alloys into dust. It's your pride and joy, and you spent several months learning how to maintain and repair it yourself so that it would always be in top shape.
A special forces beret rests on your head, a hat that was given to you by one of the few military veterans who survived Zion's rampage. Captain Juan "Johnnie" Rico had been in the service up until his forced retirement in the wake of the Army's irrelevance in the face of parahumans. His long history of service was shown in his every word and action, marking him as a military man through-and-through. He had was very kind to you, and after realizing how many skills you lacked, you had become his disciple. After you lost your own parents Captain Johnnie (Cap to you) had become a second father, teaching you everything he knew. With the mastery of your powers, you have become of the most skilled parahumans on Earth Lambda, the world that you settled after the Golden Morning.
Something is different now, you notice, as you try to call on your power. You realize that the parahuman ability that you once had is gone, as if you had never Triggered in the first place. In it's place however, is a suite of several different power that are practically begging to be used. As you start taking stock of your new powers, you are rudely interrupted by the building across the street from the one you are standing in exploding, rubble flying everywhere. A piece of concrete the size of a breadbox narrowly misses your head, embedding itself into the mirror you were just looking into.
You snort and shake your head, checking your sidearm's charge as you walk out of the door. The sorry looking portal is now is hanging askew from a single hinge. Whether they just tried to kill you or not, you're not about to let whoever blew up the building this get away with it; some asshole just signed his own death-warrant. Your weapon hums to life as you flip the activation switch, and you hug the contours of a flipped car in the middle of the street as you look around for the one responsible for this mess.
A terrible noise fills your ears and your brain as you look into the sky. You see dozens of flying capes, more than the entire amount that exist on Earth Lambda, doing battle with the enormous form. An alabaster colored faux-angel darts through the sky, an enormous cloud of floating debris circling around her position in the air. You watch as she swats a nearby cape out of the air with ease.
"Well, shit." you hear yourself say, as you crouch down. You take aim at the Simurgh, thumbing the power selector on your weapon to maximum and the beam aperture to the widest it can go. She's alive, it seems, and up to her old tricks again. You wonder briefly if whatever new powers you have now will be up to killing her outright. If not, you imagine, then destroying the third Endbringer is liable to take a little bit of work.
Your grin is downright nasty as you pull the energy weapon's trigger. You've always been up for a good challenge.