The Rogue Nation

Pt.2

"Samson? Sorry to disturb you." Their reluctant yet angelic voices harmonically hailed the Superman of Superheroes as he mediated.

Healing the mind was as important as healing his body. And the False Bay, despite its current state of criminal dominance, still held a spiritual connection to its afrofuturistic roots.

It had already begun to reshape and mold Samson's shallow perception of the World.

"This man really wants to speak with you." the Trifecta announced.

Slowly the Cybersin Superman rose to his feet stylishly swimming his arms, then shoulders, into an all black and purple trimmed dashiki. Covering up the recent surgical scar running down the length of his back. "Was I not clear enough when I told you no visitors?" Of course the question was rhetorical. Yet as the beautiful trio of identical sisters helped usher in a hunched over hobbled stranger, any anger Samson may have felt quickly retreated.

"It cant be. CAN IT? Ali?"

As a child, alongside with his brother, the executives of Project Apex had brought the Starr brothers to Africa, and to what was at the time known as, the Kwazulu Alcazar. Now more infamously known as the Rogue Nation. But back in the day the Alcazar was a fairytale told to up and coming superheroes in North America. Primarily young African-American prospects in hopes it would help to influence particular social tendencies and inspire superheroes to be more than just lawless vigilantes by showcasing a superhero who had made himself a king. Naturally, the Bashir's prided themselves as being the 'wardens' of the Bay, rather than the monarchy of the bay. But to exercise unlimited power with no oversight, well, that is about as kingly as any one person could expect.

"Tis been a long time, Stah. I see good health has blessed you, no?"

"Dont give me that bullshit you're supposed to be dead man what the actual f's is going on? Where have you been all this time?" Samson questioned with a slight look of contorted confusion masking his otherwise abnormally charming features.

"Dat tis a story for anothah day. Right now we dont have much time. I need your help. I need to retake the Bay from my son and return it to its people. Musa has destroyed everything my family stood for. Our honor will never again see dee light of day. But at least I can do something. I can do dis. If you'll help me?"

It was as about as submissive as Ali had ever been. He knew the danger, the risk. That without the Universal Patriots help, the Rogue Nation would forever remain a new age cove of modern day pirates and terrorists.

"First. We need to get into dee palace. I need to get my suit."

Samson grimaced as he maneuvered his shoulders causing them both to crack and pop with an unearthly deep rooted rumble. He could feel it. The pain. The fragile sensation running up and down his repaired spin.

"You know your son and his people fixed me right? Seems kinda jacked up me repaying em by helping you. Hell old man, I aint even 70% yet."

-We strongly recommend you refuse this request Mr. Starr- Subtly Samson turned to passively acknowledged their telepathic warning.

"Let me bring the squad in on this. See what they think. They'll help."

"NO! No no outsidahs. Jus you, an me."

"Okay Ali. We'll do it your way. So tell me. Whats your plan?"

Hmm...

I oppose this action.

Samson's political protocols for California- in the face of the widespread Sapien-flu epidemic - had been irreversibly instituted long before his departure. Trusting most if not all of the basic day to day operations to his deputy governor and chief political strategist, the Jade Amazon.

Though stopping just short of a 'shelter in place' order, the American Matrix did in fact hold strong on his East Coast travel ban. No flights in or out. Simple as that. Florida and Daytonaville had been recently added despite some strong political pushback on the matter. And all the while the silence from the White House remained disturbingly telling. The President's secret corruption silently threatened the very fabric of the republic. His polluted moral malnourishment having allowed one of the highest positions in the World to be covertly compromised to the point of crippling immobilization. It may have even robbed an esoteric teenager of her mother, a legend of her life, and the World of an icon.

But the Cybersin Superman had had to compartmentalize his priorities. Sub-conscious distractions were robotically removed with surgical detachment. Besides, the Black Fairy was more than capable and the iron forged fortitude of the unsung Gothic Guardian, Ashly Knightfall, had been tried and tested across two Universes now. They would find a vaccine, They would not fail the World. They would not fail the one's and the things that they cherished the most.

Still, as he quietly focused on the task at hand - the silent infiltration of the Beast of No Nation's guarded compound - he couldnt help but to think about the events leading up to the catastrophic collapse of Earth-833.

"Whats it look like ahead?" Samson questioned with a subtle nod as Ali crab-crawled up alongside the Project Hill Patriot's covered position. "She kept true to her word. Crix had the patrols pulled back, dee headquarters is relatively empty cept for my son. He will not go down wit out bloody fight. I fear...we may have to put him down for good. But dee people are tired of dis violent way of living. Dis place was small. Elegant and isolated. Musa has turned it into a haven for the worst most deplorable criminals in dee World. Enough is enough Starr. How do we rid dee Bay of his defilement?" Ali questioned with obvious worry and concern. "My bad old timer, I was actually asking them."pointing Ali's attention to the floating tRill sphere's swirling like metallic bee's just above his head.

In concert, the technological toys transferred their gathered data to Samson's cybersin suit allowing him to look over a small holographic projection of their drone like surveillance. Without looking up or even turning his head he simply stated "We take him alive. Ali and I will deal with his men. Trinity" the unexpected name drop caused Ali to shift back before looking around. Then adjusting his gaze upwards...

@trinity-blue:

"You get Musa. How he goes down makes no difference to me. Just that he does. Thats all that matters here. Today, we clear out the Bay once and for all."

Ooohhh, it's game time already!?

I'll finish it this evening. The itis just hit. 😒

No insignias. No distinguishing markers tying either of them to Selebrity, on the off chance they were seen and recognized. Trinity had her own ideas about how that would go. Roughly an hour before the op, a plainclothes Seraph explored freely within the borders of the False Bay. Coexisting - if not entirely - then mostly successfully with the natives and outsiders trading capital and professional resources. In various tongues, some understood but many not, some identified her as a lost tourist or criminal neophyte (perhaps having foolishly partaken of some tainted drink or Kwazulu Kush, by her slightly teetering walk). Others noted some vague familiarity in her face, and she left them wondering where they'd seen this girl before. Few made the mistake of "laying claim" to this one before word spread and she was given a wide berth.

Distantly, Trinity listened for Bashir's and Starr's voices, half listening until the discussion began in earnest. A gust of wind marked her arrival, and slowly she drifted down to meet the two, sky blue eyes darting around to each of the spheres before locking on Samson. Listening intently. Thinking, but not about the operation. Whatever was inside Seraph felt fully confident she could handle at leisure. But Ziccarra's threat(warning?) still loomed. Samson had gone through several changes since they'd met. Trinity had as well. But he was...like a whole different person sometimes. How many of those changes were because of her? Preparing for her? Ziccarra called her "multiversal" and though Trinity couldn't begin to understand what the word meant she now knew what it felt like.

She comforted herself with the fact that that Samson had never spoken a word against her even when she had gone against his wishes. He'd given her everything the others promised but refused to deliver, asking little in return. Even now his request felt more like an outlet - an opportunity to do what she'd always done best.

Besides, even if he would turn on her, no machine had ever managed to stand up to her, even before she became the High Queen.

Yet here she was taking his orders...

"We take him alive. Ali and I will deal with his men. Trinity, you get Musa. How he goes down makes no difference to me. Just that he does. That's all that matters here."

She could practically see the Ninjan standing behind him, shaking her head in disapproval. "Dog on a leash."

Whatever.I'm not gonna be held hostage in my life by a fecking popsicle.

With an aerial somersault Trinity fell into a swan dive, rocketing for the fortress—before phasing harmlessly, silently through the ceiling. Determined to show she was helping by choice rather than compulsion, or perhaps just as Destruction's overachiever, she chose her path in such a way as to deliberately enter where she'd be seen by at least one guard. Her hand shot out, cutting him off mid-gasp. A headless corpse fell to her feet.

With a shockwave something slammed into her backside, knocking her slightly off-balance. Several others stood within that same corridor. Trinity lunged, ramming her fist into the chest cavity of the first. The other held what looked like a communications device but as he raised it to speak the Destructor latched onto his wrist, completely severing motor control to the extremity. Half a second later the compound had a new, man-sized sun-roof.

The Angel of Destruction made her way through the compound in some semblance of quiet, or her best approximation. Occasional impacts echoed through the halls accompanying rushing winds. The rare discharge of a weapon. Sharp breaths, half-screams cut abruptly at the source. Yet each kill marked her path, closer and closer to the man perched atop the Aetherium Throne.

Inside the throne room, doors swung open with a crash. Brazen as she was destructive, Trinity sauntered in on the air, slightly disheveled, clothes partly shreded, guard in telepathic tow. Ready to deliver...not an ultimatum. Yes, this was another "aggressive negotiation." Clenching her fist, the guard's body folded in on itself, slowly twisting beyond anything natural for a human form. Slowly, bones strained and cracked, and then shattered as a once-proud warrior was reduced to a ball of flesh, continuing to twist on itself until blood and entrails slopped to the floor like water and filth wrung from a towel.

Trinity looked to the pile on the floor, then to Musa, assuming her message would be clear. Her smile was as gleeful as her eyes were menacing.

"Feel free to pray to your god, but—spoilers—I won't be listening."

@trinity-blue:

Trinity's silent incursion kicked off Samson's tactical offensive against the Rogue Nation. The world had indulged Musa and his coastal collection of modern day pirate criminals for long enough, and with the technopathic aide of Musa's right hand and chief advisor having provided a premeditated path in which the Cybersin Superman could exploit, the Beast of No Nation's once impregnable confederacy had been weakened beyond imagination.

"Is she up for the task? She seemed...distant" Ali questioned

"It always does. It'll do its job." Samson coldly responded. The clash between his number one draft pick, the Sequel, and the Selebrity Seraph had made all the tabloid rounds. Twitter and other social media platforms had run with the story of Selebrity's in-fighting. Trending for a short while, the narrative had of course taking on all the expected embellishments of a celebrity feud. It was great for business. The strife had been trending just below the national pandemic story making sure Selebrity remained a topic of conversation despite its noticeable east coast absence. Nevertheless Trinity's inability to gel with the team was a problem. And though he couldnt say it for sure, he knew Trinity had kept several secrets from him ranging from the illegal incarceration of the Champoiness, to her connection to one of the New York invaders. As such any motivation towards bringing her into the Selebrity social stratosphere had vanished. She was a creation without purpose. He would continue to give her purpose. What she opted to do with it was up to her.

Today's operation was no different. The easiest way to dismantle the Nation was to lock Trinity onto a target - in this case the Bashir renegade himself - which would then allow for an easier approach when dealing with the locals. Separating the non combatants from the supe-terrorist ensuring a successful mission.

Suddenly a numerical conversation between Samson and his drone like spheres threatened his focus and priorities.

"Show me!" he demanded. Watching the televised decapitation of the Liafador Legend through the digital projection in his visor. His hands balled into fists as electricity began to violently crackled a formed elescasting arcs of dangerous electrical bolts of his strained fists.

"NonononoNO!!!!" Enraged, any stoic posture Samson had been premiering dissolved into an emotional fight of anger.

"Whats going on? Samson you okay? What is it?" Ali paused, shaken by Samson's visible rage,

All at once his plans felt useless. His plans for liquidating HALO as part of the False Bay restoration project were dismissed. His plans to culturally operate and market the AfroFuturism lifestyle seemed wasted. Samson had felt a strong connection with the resurrected radical. A connection he confidently felt was shared, and was excited about the potential future of. He thought of the Black Fairy and how alone she must feel. Her last interaction with her mother being one of a diffiance and teenage rebellion.

"You can finish up here. Trinity will help you." Was all the Superman of Superheroes said before the soles of his boots transformed and rocketed Samson up and out of the atmosphere.

@trinity-blue:

He mockingly looked to the sky as Samson's thruster's roared by overhead, before fixing his yellow eyes on the newly anointed Seraph, before drifting of to her side at his father.

"Always one to make an entrance aye?"pausing to involuntarily cough and clutch at his chest. Deeply inhaling as he rocked back into the depths of his aesthetically obnoxious throne frantically wiping and rubbing his face. "I think your little revolution may be too late, no? Infection....infection...."he mumbled.

Musa's eyes began to smeer, tear up with syrup like nectar and bleed.For a moment panic washed over the once proud neo-terrorist before snarls, coughs and growls became the norm before he darted up out of his throne and launched himself towards the airborne Selebrity hero.

In a flash the turncoat techno-terrorist, Sequitur Crix appeared with an acrobatic aerial display just above the virus savaged Bashir. Swinging a stylishly lit weapon of some engineering feat of her own making straight through the Beast of No Nation's right arm. A destructive blow, but the techno-queen had been aiming for the infected hyper-sapien's head. With his momentum in tact, Musa's leap continued to carry him towards the unimpressed daughter of death.

Trinity's brow furrowed in frustration. She'd spent a lot of time thinking of clever, intimidating ways to make her entrance, and this fool didn't even react. He seemed more concerned with the peon working alongside her and Samson—who was leaving, again, just as she was getting to the best part – her triumph. After making such a big deal of it, what could be more important?

Even at the risk of underestimating a foe packing any manner of unknown tools, and secretly carrying the threat of a divine virus within his own body, she focused almost entirely on Samson, debating whether or not to follow him. Whether or not to abandon the task he'd set out of spite. Her eyes remained glued skyward, True Sight allowing her to follow him through the walls, and even as he disappeared over the natural horizon. Musa's mutterings meant comparatively little to her anyway.

Sensing his moment, Musa struck. Catapulting himself through the air before being intercepted – but not halted – by the heretofore unseen technopath. His momentum ultimately unhindered, he soared, pantherlike, through the air in a sudden explosion of energy that would've left even many superhumans struggling to react properly. But to Selebrity's Golden Ace the scene might as well have been taken from a Zack Snyder film. With her perception sped up, he inched forward so slowly, it was almost like he wasn't moving at all.

And with a thought, Trinity reached out, attempting to seize the mad kingpin and hold him aloft telekinetically. Never taking her eyes off of him, she turned slightly toward Ali. "His life matters to you? What would you offer me for sparing him?"

@trinity-blue:

The low thundering rumble of a propulsion system would alert the super senses of those in the throne room, as the Arethium avatar of the Superman of Superheroes hovered in through the narrow hallway as it bled out into the larger area where the conflict had stalled courtesy of the Selebrity Death-Star's telekinetic interception.

The synthesized voice of the v2.0 was a close facsimile of the real Samson yet the small traces of autotuned enhancements were unmistakable. More than 8 thousand miles away in Tulsa, the genuine article comfortably sat outside on the wooden deck of his family's modest ranch-like estate.

Relaxing in a one of a kind Selebrity street style logo T and matching Carolina blue joggers with unlaced 'wings of the future' Air Jordan 1's, as an illuminated holographic halo hovered around his head allowing for an uninterrupted neural pathway with his external outdated suit of armor. Even though it had reached 'its' apex of technological potential Samson still found a useful utility in having an expendable yet capable extension of himself in the field.

Off to his right settled on a cast iron tea-table, an all white labtop commanded half of the Cybersin Superman's attention as he continuously researched articles and studies on superhuman infections, viruses and contagents.

he sarcastically concluded

The infection of the Beast of No Nation was nothing more than a coincidental bonus. Now Samson had his own metahuman subject infected with the Sapien Flu. A Hypersapien with a herculean healing factor. Even now, the virus savaged terrorist's severed arm had begun to repair itself. Healing factors had been made famous with the arrival of the mutant culture. Yet the human population had foolishly failed to capitalize on the potential applications. Failed to engineer a metahuman Lipid nanoparticle (LNP) dispersion with a mRNA in which to encode a prefusion stabilized spike protein for the CR-833 virus. If they had acted sooner establishing the clinical origins for an experimental cure would have taken days, not months or years.

There was an uncharastic ease to Samson's motions as he casually strolled out back to a wide open spread of untold acreage and midwestern majesty. Majesty and the partial face of a massive concrete structure neatly buried in the side of a small grassy hill. The secret entrance to the Starr family bunker, and a one of a kind museum of the family of generational superhero's conquests, trophies and secret supernatural memorabilia.

And soon to be a makeshift Sapien-flu research facility with Musa as its prized guinea pig.

36.1540° N, 95.9928° W 👍

Shit, the use of tables is so good.

@supreme_sapien:

Just like that, almost as soon as it'd started, her fun ended. Trinity shot a baleful glare that said, beneath a certain confusion, that she felt disrespected and it was a good thing the two weren't in the same place at that time.

"You're welcome," she spat sardonically, alternating one last glance between each of the others before shutting off the Aetherium Tyrant's mind and tearing through the roof.

Several roundabout and ostensibly pointless stops later, the Seraphic Superstar touched down in Tulsa, but it was several more minutes before, following a manual search, she'd found the requested location. All the while ruminating on the opposing forces she'd been caught between. The universe itself seemed determined to prove Ziccarra right - Samson included. This was more than Samson stepping on her moment. It was the way he talked about her, talked to her. It was another "master" looking to control her utterly.

She let Musa drag along the ground behind her as she stomped toward the eclectic mastermind. Glancing around as if she expected another visitor to be present as well. "I'm not a dog on a leash, youknow, I'm helping because I want to, not because I have to," she said, talking to more than just Samson but imposing herself directly into his personal space. "You do the same thing. When we help someone. First,you...'extort' them, make sure we benefit. Make sure you benefit." The entire time she glared into his eyes, her forehead poised just beneath his nose. She pulled Musa up and dropped him on the grass, releasing him from her telekinetic grip. "I'm not an it, I'm a person," or she was trying to be, if everyone would stop making it so hard. It wasn't a point she thought anyone should argue, given the alternative.

"Why's he so important anyway?"

@trinity-blue:

"Boy. That woman's fit to kill you."

"Yeah what else is new, Pa-Pop"Samson dismissively concluded while the Selebrity Superstar marched towards them.

Dressed down in an all white T and jeans, his thumbs were sub-consciously slipped into the pockets in defensive preparation of an inevitable verbal clash. Despite the fact that his posture was a perfectly fabricated portrayal of physical relaxation. The wheelchair bound Starr family patriarch was equally quiet as he remained undetected off to his grandson's side. Perhaps through a superhuman ability, or undiscovered cloaking tech located somewhere on the property, the charismatic veteran was seemingly existing in the scorned Seraph's blindspot of senses somehow.

Though in clear violation of the Cybersin Superman's personal space he did little to nothing by way of retreating, but rather sought to provoke the escalating tensions by standing his ground.

As one tongue lashing finished, and the next to begin, Pa-Pop Starr sought to intercede. Unable to keep his hand from trembling due to his advancing Parkinson's as it reached out to gather Trinity's, the old man nevertheless gathered her hand into his and smiled. Patting it with the opposite one as he affectionately welcomed the newcomer to his home.

"Come with me child. Lets leave grumpy alone here till he figures out how to ac'right." To which Samson could merely muster a WTF shoulder shrug as Pa-Pop led Trinity up to the main house.

"That kid never did learn how to pacify a situation, but truth be told, he is trying with you believe it or not." Inside the home the obvious signs of a fulfilled and extensive family were eclectically displayed throughout must every room. Nieces and nephews were seated around the dining room table completely transfixed to their various devices, tablets and screens. Yet each one paused just long enough to look up with a grin an a wave, before once again plunging their faces into their digital distractions while Pa-Pop proceeded to guide Trinity from room to room.

"Samson told us a little bit about you. Hope you dont mind, the boy, he dont keep much from us. Here, here sit." Directing the no doubt confused Daughter of Destruction towards a plastic covered sofa in front of a wall of historical pictures and documents.

"You know what that is? It was called the Underground Railroad. It was a system of secret passages and safe havens heading North in an effort to help runaway slaves escape to areas in which they could be free. See, Samson says you're incapable of relating to people. He's worried you may be void of empathy all together." Watching Trinity as she hopefully gazed upon the photographic monuments to America's great shame. Brutal images representing the black man's struggle through the ages. A struggle that Pa-Pop knew the Seraph of Selebrity could identify with. Relate too.

"I dont know what kinda hell you endured out there kiddo. And some masters we cant ever break free from" tapping his temple with complete understanding. "But sometimes you get lucky enough to find an Underground Railroad to help you along the way. I wont pretend that the boy cant be an asshole, gets that from his father"

"Pa-Pop!!!" a loud female voice scolded from the kitchen.

"Aggghgh" the old man comically grumbled before continuing, "But he brought you here for a reason. Wanted us to meet you, and vice versa. I think he wanted you to see first hand what it looks like when a collection of people have one another's back. What trust and family look like, but more importantly, what it feels like."

"Supper's reaaaaady!!" trampling and galloping footsteps immediately ignited in a frenzy of starved and previously unseen relatives. "Come on give an old man a push or we're gonna miss out! You dont wanna mess Aunt Starr's Sunday supper. Lord child I promise ya that." suddenly shifting both the weighted atmosphere and tone as hunger superseded everything else.

OH MY GOD I LOVE PA-POP!

@supreme_sapien:

By then Trinity knew Samson wouldn't back down. He was like Leo, that way. Too confident for his own good. And just like the only individual she'd ever called "friend," she wagered Samson would have risked the destruction of everything he loved to protect his pride. But the Ancient's Daughter would brook no further disrespect, scanning him through every means she could, from a psychic scan to reading his body temperature, to the pheromones exchanged between them through the air. Waiting so that at the first hint of a sideways remark, she'd ram her perfectly poised head into his nose.

But it never came. Trinity hissed as she drew back from the unexpected touch, recoiling just as much from its gentle nature as the fact she hadn't noticed the old man. The audacity! Eyes wild with fury, a telltale ruby glow illuminated the Pa-Pop's face before, just as quickly, the threat died down and they returned to their natural cerulean. Trinity's cheeks burned beet red as she began to, at least partially, read and understand the man's expression with some difficulty. Despite the mass entangled in her spirit, short of a direct kill there was still a biological wall and years of conditioning to overcome, leaving her empathetic processing slower than most.

Compelled by curiosity, the Cosmic Starchild allowed herself to comply with the earthling, hovering alongside the chair which she pushed with her mind. She threw one last look over her shoulder.

"That kid never did learn how to pacify a situation, but truth be told, he is trying with you believe it or not."

"He's...He's doinga..."—she looked for a word—"...an ass job of it." Blissfully unaware of her own double standard, all she could think of were the warning signs that Starr was another tyrant in the making, a someday-Nordok if she didn't set everything in its proper place right away. "I'm the one who's trying, he has no idea," she petulantly asserted the need to justify herself. Keenly aware of her surroundings, the psionic energy bleeding through the Astral Plane overlaying the material landscape in the home, and particularly how different it was from anything else she'd experienced, none held her rapt more so than the old man himself. She regarded him skeptically, even more than the rest. Even more than Samson. Reminding herself of the comfortable lies Nordok led her to believe, and of the last disciple who approached her preaching the Supreme Sapien's holiness. At least Samson was honest about his own self-interest.

And yet Samson's kin was undeniably genuine, his shrine to shame, perseverance and triumph drawing shallow breaths as Trinity attempted to sift through the cocktail of foreign emotions swarming like some kind of mental attack. She held her silence, angrily processing the additional vulnerability Nordok had now given her, weighing the old man's words and the lessons through history that he tried to impart. His energy was completely different, but he'd unknowingly echoed the exact same ideas as Ziccarra. That she was still tethered, perhaps irrevocably, to her old master. Trinity wanted Samson to be right. Once upon a time he was. Planets, entire civilizations had been wiped out on naught but her whims, and the Angel of Destruction didn't so much as flinch. Slavery and brutality were norms she'd been exposed to—as a victim and perpetuated herself—since her very first day. So why should she cry now?

Aggressively defiant, she wanted to rebuke him, even though he was right on so many levels it was doubtful either one could fully fathom it without a direct mental link. "You want me to relate to these people, to...to you all," she said, wiping signs of weakness from her cheek before spinning the chair, kneeling so the two were face to face. "There's not a being like me in this entire universe. Maybe otherstoo," Trinity bragged mirthlessly, remembering what Ziccarra said about her new power being "multiversal."

"You saw New York? There were other times too. I've 'had their backs,' but what about me? They haven–...They never even–...Relate to me?I'm not even a person to him, how could any of you understand that? He watches me like an animal, or property, plans how to beat me...I saved his life and didn't even complain when he siphoned my power."She had been a bit rough with him, but he should've listened when she told him to let her handle the threat. "He never thanked me, and all his peon had to say was that I 'need to do better.' Maybe you mean well—but I've been lied to before—and so far everyone else is just like...like them," nodding toward the photographs, changing her frame of reference at the last moment from her own creator to the masters with whom he'd be more familiar. She scanned his face looking for understanding, or that he was even beginning to process what she was saying, before remembering herself and reengaging defenses just as quickly.

"Whatever," she shrugged, trying to imress upon him her apparent indifference, "I don't need to be understood. Only adored. Or feared, just as well."

Nevertheless, Trinity wrapped her hands around the chair's handles and pushed the elderly Starr patriarch into the dining area. There was more she'd have to learn here. Starting with a microscopic scan of everyone in the room for biological anomalies, similarities to and differences from Samson. How, Trinity puzzled, could this man be so frail, when his descendant was so powerful? And, she'd silently admit to herself, of all worlds she'd been to the Earth's delicacies were by far superior to any other.

@trinity-blue:

In a beautiful mixture of era's, culture and technology, an invested eye would pick up the subtle hints of Afrofutursitc themes and advanced cybernetic accessories uniquely bled into - and throughout - the deceptive ranch like estate.

As the family of African-American superheroes gathered in view around the dining room table, a broader picture could be extrapolated through the stunning visuals of not only superhuman culture, but the evolution of superhuman culture through the ages.

As older members clearly held morphed physical advantages - elongations, barrel chests, or insane muscular definitions, - while the younger gen's had clearly gravitated towards the technological one's. Some having gone so far as to integrate the state of the art tech. Either in and on themselves, or in the strange toy like companions they carried to the table with them. Pets, toys, it was hard to even distinguish at this point.

The entire family - including Samson - sat around the large farmhouse table and began passing the various platters of southern fried chicken, mashed potatoes, collard greens, BBQ'd meats, cornbread, and sweet potatoes while losing themselves in empty calorie conversations and stories. Especially the stories, as each theatrical member of the Starr family confederacy sought to one up the other with an elaborate tale of their individual feats of past superheroics. Spanning generations the stories were like verbal time capsules with an almost unheard of historical perspective. The type of perspective which shattered the academically taught versions of a racially pacified history of superheroes.

They had a unique southern drawl, performing non-stop physical gestures as they spoke with their hands and bodies. Explosive outbursts of laughter and attention grabbing performances by both the old, young and in-between members of Samson's pack were executed with dramatic allure. Several of his nieces had been in extra effect in an attempt to showoff for the Spectacular Stargirl of Selebrity. A couple even going so far as to ask for an autograph. While the teenagers desperately wanted to braid her hair, but a stern glance and subtle nod from the Superman of Superheroes killed any such notions before they could be offered. Still unsure if he had made the right choice in exposing his family to the unpredictable pitbull like nature of Trinity, however before he could draw her away and back out towards the bunker -

- "How bout, forgott'n?" Pa-Pop blurted between lip smacking bites, slightly leaning towards the proud princess of universal privilege while the rest of the extensive family arched their collective brows and watched with silent anticipation. Naturally they had overheard the duo's previous conversation allowing ideas and personal opinions to have been formed long before truly ever meeting the Selebrity Seraph. And even the one's who hadnt, had heard Pa-Pop's unifying sermon before.

Trinity had expressed a desire to be loved, or feared. But as a family of famed superhero celebrities, they all could relate. And they all knew there was a third option in Trinity's philosophy.

"Or hated." a cousin seamlessly contributed effectively allowing Trinity to see that the question wasn't an attack or contradiction, but was meant as a supplementary piece of consideration. "Nah you needhaters." Samson chimed in. "The more haters you have the harder your fans will defend you. The more haters you have, the longer you'll stay in the public consciousness. Ya need both. But forgotten? Thats a fate worse than death." Samson triumphantly concluded with several of the younger members nodding in agreeance.

"Yeah, I guess you'd know seeing as how you did Garrison the way you did." the cousin's lobbed insult created a momentary skirmish as silverware was dropped and two sides on the opposite ends of the table rose up ready to throw hands. Pa-Pop and a female, possibly Samson's mother, calmly remained seated before the unspoken woman shook her head while patting the old man's resting forearm.

"If they break my kitchen thats yo'ass, you this." Softly excusing herself without so much as a glance at the rest of the arguing members of her clan.

"Feared or loved. I was both once. But let me ask you, as much as you feel disrespected - and rightfully so - has the boy not put you in prime positions to be both? Feared in Japan, loved in New York, and both in the False Bay. It looks to me like he's trying to give you exactly what you want. Is it pretty? Perfect? Altruistically motivated? Of course not. But you've been here long enough to know that nothing ever is. You say everyone is just like them, but did they ever have you over for Sunday supper with da'fam?" grinning sideways while looking up under his observant. brow. "You dont have to trust us kiddo. Just observe us. Draw your own conclusions. Now thats a freedom some people never know."

Pausing for a moment to enjoy the final bites of his meal he suddenly flopped a napkin on his empty plate and bagen wheeling himself off. "You two really should talk about what exactly it is you're hoping to gain outta this teamup. Now where the hell are my pills? Damn kids always playin an shit."

How dare you not let those kids braid her hair 😠

@supreme_sapien:

If there was one thing made abundantly clear by Samson's clan, it's that they were anything but "typical" by Earth standards. Between genetic anomalies and technological accompaniments, even the small ones boasted enhancements that would've made them right at home on any number of faraway worlds. Not quite up to repelling a full invasion from a coordinated force, Trinity thought, but this cursory scan prompted the turning of numerous proverbial gears in the Destructor's mind. Thoughts which, thankfully, she had the self-control to put off for another time.

Meanwhile Trinity helped herself to an invisible "seat" next to the elderly patriarch and contented herself to taste their hospitality and observe the others. At the table she was a terror just as much as on the battlefield, her distinct lack of manners making itself quickly apparent so that, once she'd hastily and selfishly consumed an entire potato salad dish and chicken platter, bones included, all future provisions were passed around the table to reach the Seraphic Superstar last.

And though her eyes seemed to give little attention to anything that didn't directly concern her, her mind sought wherever a new voice sprang up, blankly attempting to catch anything and everything projected throughout the group. Effectively receiving everything including the simultaneous chatter of their young forcefully talking over one another, thanks to her mind's enhanced processing ability; even if much of the context needed for true understanding was, unfortunately, woefully absent. Occasionally something would catch her attention in a particular way, and it showed plainly on Trinity's features.

"...your autograph?" - an expression of affirmation Trinity frequently heard but as of yet remained unsure how to respond to.

"How he did Garrison" - a warning hastily blurted.

Forgotten?

"I..." Prodding questions asked her to consider things she never had before. Forgotten? It'd never crossed her mind. For Trinity, the present moment was all that ever mattered. Sure, the Earthlings would revere her, but it'd never occurred to her to wonder what they'd think when she wasn't around. Partly because she was sure she'd outlast their entire world but that was never an active consideration, it was simply fact. As basic a fact as Nordok was Ancient, Trinity would be everlasting.

But it appeared they had found some measure of success. Her reticence notwithstanding, she had begun to consider. To take stock of what she'd initially sought from Selebrity and what progress she had or hadn't made. And more importantly, what it all meant to her. Yet she refused to give anything of herself to anyone present - not without taking stock of Samson first.

"Him first," she shot defensively, leering so hard she might well have been looking through Samson to the other side of the galaxy. "Say your piece. And I'm the High Queen now, I'll know if you're lying."

@trinity-blue:

Even though he had held firm, quietly restraining his frustration, Samson was shaking his head as Trinity struggled with the basic concepts of letting one's guard down, intuition, friendship and several other social norms. But the second she proudly proclaimed herself as the High Queen his stoic constitution faltered. "Jeeeeesus chriiiiist whatsdamatter with you?"

"Boy dont you take the lord's name in vain in my house."

But it was too late.

"You're the Selebrity Seraph. Trinity. You beat the High Queen. You're better than the High Queen. Why are you willingly moving backwards instead of forwards? The champs dont take the names of their KO's wtf you thinkin? Do you think because you kept her as a pet you now have some shared bond? A real sisterhood of traveling evil is it? Oh you didnt think anybody knew about that? Trinity why dont you stop pretending to be a good person and just be what you were created to be? You've endured so much violent and unspeakable trauma that now, trauma is the only thing you know or understand. The only thing you respond to with any semblance of positivity. I wanted to use your powers to help change the World. I needed your help to change the World. And in exchange I sought to give you purpose. Fandom. Reinforced positive attention and accolades. Fame. But you jus wanna fight me at every turn. Argue and rebel. You want a reason to fight me so bad it hurts. You'd lose though. I'd break you and your ego and then what? Seems like a waste but"

tossing his napkin down with dismissive agitation. A slight antagonistic smirk was thrown in for an added push of provocation. Samson knew the Selebrity Seraph wouldnt be able to backdown from such a boastful challenge to her perceived supremacy. "there's plenty of free space out back. If I win...when, I win. You shut the *&^% up, fall in line, and play the part. If you win...if you win Trinity feel free to do whatever you want however you want. I nor anybody from Selebrity will try to stop you."

"Boy this isnt the way." Pa-Pop warned

"Oh shit is uncle Samson gonna fight the Seraph in the backyard?" the kids questioned, awe-struck, dumbfounded and cellphones at the ready

@trinity-blue: (Don't respond to me lol)

"YOU BEAT THE HIGH QUEEN?" The Calamity Queen boisterously erupts into a fit of laughter. Knowing her astral presence would annoy the newly anointed "High Queen"

@the_championess: I won't, but I've gotta say, I really do love those little unexpected interjections. Feels like when Nord (as Inner Demon) was inside the mind of Sam Heller. Feels like even as a writer I'm mentally "checking over my shoulder," feeling watched, unsure if T's private moments are really private or not.

@supreme_sapien: But that boy done lost his GD mind! Ooohhhh, you just made it so hard to focus on my other stuff!

@supreme_sapien: *Chants* Fight, fight, fight, fight!

Now kick her butt. *LOL*

Oh, this ain't gonna be like y'alls pitter patter sparring session.

@supreme_sapien:

"Zalac," Trinity cursed under her breath as Ziccarra's voice echoed in her mind. The Ninjan was mostly a nuisance but her intrusions were a constant reminder of the control she had over their connection, the intrusion on the Destructor's mind.

But Samson didn't give much time to process let alone respond to her. Trinity's head cocked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. It wasn't what she was looking for. But the pheromones and the maker's preternatural empathy told her it was coming and there was little she could - or would - do to stop it. Yet he seemed to be complimenting her. "Better than the High Queen." Her lips cracked slightly, forming the beginnings of an unwitting smile, and against her nature Trinity started to lower her guard.

Just as soon she was jerked back into her habit. From a mental focus on understanding the meanings and implications of Samson's metaphors to a clear understanding of the disrespect he now heaped upon her. She hadn't yet opened her mouth to correct him, to educate him on the true nature of the High Queen (at least as she understood it) when Samson's praise turned sour and the Spartan of Biomechatronic Supremacy dove headlong into open mockery.

His visage blurred. Trinity's gaze shot this way and that, zeroing in on the others. Her lip quivered and her eyes burned. She blinked away tears. Deep breaths. Deeeeep breaths. She tried to collect herself.

"I'M TRYING DAMN IT!" She failed, the outburst accented by her fist smashing through the dinner table.

"I just..." Her face softened, and then,

"It must suck, doesn't it?" She smiled a bitter, joyless smile. "Your world's on the line, an outsider is defending you, and the worst thing you could possibly do...is try to help.

"Don't worry old one," she tossed over her shoulder, vitriolic aura throwing sparks about the kitchen. "I won't kill him. This is just...inexorable. The Will of the Cosmos."

With that she threw out a telekinetic force, looking to launch Samson through the wall into the aforementioned yard where they could begin in earnest.

"I am a force of nature. You are but breath and shadow."

@trinity-blue:

In an instant Samson was launched through the Starr estate exploding into and out of the living room wall. Luckily his hibernating armor transformed the bottom of his Air Jordan Jubilee's into a series of circular propulsion systems granting the Cybersin Superman immediate aerial dexterity. Righting himself with a grin and folded arms, he hovered above the ground mockingly shaking his head. Of course the cosmic brat just had to unleash a tantrum first and destroy anything within arms reach before being able to focus on the true object of her anger. "A force of nature huh? Breath an a shadow thats very poetic. Let me hip ya to some reality though Trinity. You, are a test t..."he unexpectedly paused as his glance caught the disapproving stares of his family. Samson was too close. Too invested. His emotions were clouding his judgment. But Pa-Pop and the rest of the Starrs had picked up on Trinity's emotional turmoil 10 minutes after having met her. Despite all her boastful claims, her sermons of cosmic supremacy, she was still a creature with feelings. Emotions. No matter how hard she tried to suppress or bury them beneath an exterior harder than vibranium. "This aint how a leader acts boi." the Starr family patriarch scorned. "You dont dive down to battle your teammates at their lowest, you dive down and help em back up to their heights and if you cant do that, well then, you aint fit to call yourself a hero much less a leader of superheroes." Even as Samson felt his physical stress diminishing he shook his head. For although he could be talked off most any agitated ledge by his grandfather, Trinity....well, that bell had already been rung. There wasnt an apology good enough or cape strong enough to put that genie back in the bottle. She had been provoked. Disrespected. She only knew but one way to deal with either offense. Out of nowhere Pa-Pop attempted to hook the Selebrity Seraph by the leg with his cane as he surprisingly rose up with hunched over posture. "Forget that mess kiddo. Come help me fix this dining room table. Then you can help him fix that damn hole in my house. Both ya'll lost ya minds up in here tearing up my house somebody should have told ya how to respect people's property Samson I know you know better actin like you aint gots no sense all the sudden fit to get out this chair and whoop both ya'll." Pa-Pop ranted while wheeling off towards the kitchen, expecting Trinity to follow. "Yeah come help put the table back together and then we can braid your hair Twinity" the younger members of the family paraded and ran around the Selebrity megastar completely oblivious, as kids are, to the severity of the situation but perhaps unintentionally disarming some of the tension. There was a loud clap, followed by another as Samson made his way back into the home via the massive opening where his mother was eagerly waiting. "Okay okay I'm sorry ma we'll fix it, we'll fix it! Shit."Ducking and protecting his head as the sporadic swats continued until he was fully past the point of his mother's reach.

I wanna know what he was gonna say. >_>

'You, are a test-tube baby with daddy issues'

couple other drafts had other attempted insults. I even had one in which the food had been spiked with techno-nanites that would seek to interfere with Trinity's brain's ability to understand the electrical impulses/singles being transferred. Another had the entire family jumping you but I never established canon/bio abilities and I found myself abusing that simply cause I wanted to win. Thats when I knew that one wasnt gonna work. Thats wanna of my pet peeves. The story should always be more important then the individual win (unless the individual win does more for the over all story)

@supreme_sapien: Okay! I predicted the "test tube baby" bit, but daddy issues I didn't see.

LOL, there's a specific thing I Was gonna do, and this is the second time I've had this specific attack move on deck and didn't get to use it. (First time was with Ziccarra.) Was initially gonna just try and push him through the window and blitz, Broly-style, but it seemed like I should let you take the lead on that particular checkpoint.

@trinity-blue: I was anticipating some kinda Superman speed blitz to the sun or source wall lol but beyond that Trinity's powerset is so versatile and you've explored alot of your power sets application. In short I really didnt know what to expect and my mind was all over the place. But I was sure I would whoop ya ;D

@supreme_sapien: LMAO! No, if he survived the first attack (not as in I was gonna try to kill him, "survived" as in "wanted to keep going") I did think about eventually throwing him into the sun, but I wasn't 100% on that because I felt like it would've prompted you to do some cool adaptive new concept, buuuuut there's also that chance you'll go "welp, you won this round."

@supreme_sapien:

Whatever he was going to say, Trinity hardly cared. In just a few moments she'd change his tune by force.

But the old man stopped her. Not with his cane, but his words. Once upon a time emotional immaturity would've spurred her on. He's taking my side. She'd have rubbed it in, pressed the issue. But she found herself taking stock of it all. Of Samson's pause, of Pa-Pop's admonishment. Me, low? "Help" me? It was borderline insulting.

And he was right. It was unlikely her problems with Samson would just vanish - it was just too volatile a mix with Starr, Trinity, these new experiences and Ziccarra running interference in the background. But although he seemed physically frail the old one had made an ineffable impression on the Seraphic Superstar. By her measure, he'd managed to subvert, or at least delay, the Will of the Cosmos itself.

Back inside Trinity worked her TK to make repairs simple. Holding together parts, at least those large enough to be bothered with, reforging bonds at the molecular level, musing mostly in silence.

"When Nordok was displeased he'd sear every pain receptor in my body, or assail me physically," she said eventually, mostly to Pa-Pop but only looking toward his feet. "You're merciful to your spawn." Wronged without retaliation, without repayment. In anyone else it would've just seemed foolish but the Starr family patriarch was nothing if not dignified. Yet the scales were unbalanced. Trinity's face twisted in consternation, arguing with her own mind.

Finally she faced Samson. A promise was a promise. Still, she struggled with the idea of a compromise after everything he'd said. "I don't need purpose," she said, aiming for non-confrontational and merely managing to sound defiant.

She strained a while longer. This was too hard. She focused on Pa-Pop. "Ziccarra absorbed the High Queen's power. A multiversal being who judges those who violate the laws of reality.

"That's what allowed you to heal yourself in New York," she tossed aside to Samson, then re-anchored herself on the only one who seemed both to understand and bear her no ill will. "He siphoned some of it from me and I stole the rest when I defeated Ziccarra. That's what makes me the High Queen," conveniently neglecting to mention the mental bond with Ziccarra. For now Trinity still needed her, and those in Selebrity might try to find a way to negate that bond.

"But I need her. With this power I finally know how to end my father for good but I need her to show me how to use it. I can keep her under control. We are alike, and she actually cares about me, I think...She just doesn't think anyone else does. Something happened to her in her own universe. People like you revered her but they turned on her. Gave her purpose. Used her, praised her, and then discarded her. She made a mistake, or they decided they were finished with her, I don't know. She said the same thing will happen to me because I'll never be good enough for you." She side-eyed Samson. It still didn't seem too remote a possibility.

Trinity shrugged. "That's it. I don't need a reason to fight Samson. What I wanted from him..." She reconsidered. Thought about it, shifting uncomfortably where she stood. Sighed and petulantly blurted "What I wanted was a reason to trust you! Or to go back to the way I was. I'm not perfect anymore. They couldn't fix it, now I'm stuck. I made a promise to protect you all from him, so he made me just like you."

@trinity-blue:

Samson fought back the frustration until it became impossible. 'People like you' Trinity scolded. 'She actually cares about me' she continued. 'I wanted a reason to trust you' she concluded. The Superman of Superheroes said nothing in reply. Shocked and speechless all he could do was scoff, chuckle and shrug with retreating surrender and silently plead his case to his grandfather with but a sideways glance.

'Cares about me. Cares about me.' the statement began to cycle through Samson's mind over and over again bringing him face to face with his own existential question, 'Do you? And if so, why?' He continued to physically work on the impromptu home repairs maintaining a strong presence in the moment, but his thoughts were otherwise preoccupied.

Carrying on a full fledged conversation with his inner monologue as he attempted to understand himself in relation to the Selebrity Seraph. It wasnt lust. Sure, she was designed to attract an eye, but so were half a dozen members of the Selebrity roster. It surely wasnt anything as fantastical as love. Anchors like that had been cast aside during his initially Project Apex training. So what was it then? If he didnt care, there'd be no frustration. If he didnt care, there'd be no anger or agitation.

As thought stacked upon thought, it was once again Pa-Pop's subtle handling of the situation which provided some much needed insight. The old man's tone. His mannerisms. Even the way he chose to position himself when in Trinity's orbit spoke to the old timer's motives. "He's adopting this asshole." Samson mutely pinpointed. Though Pa-Pop's actions held more nuance then Samson's basic interpretation, it allowed the arrogant marketing genius to see things through a more appropriate spectrum of social exchange.

Trinity was like a younger sibling. A sister. Defiant, yet always there when push came to shove. Wise in most every other respect yet just naive enough to create an overcompensating wall of impregnable stubbornness . She wanted to be loved or feared, her words. Yet when she spoke of being 'cared for' the unintentional emphasis was enough of an alert that even the dullest pseudo-head shrinking therapist would have taken notice. He didnt need verification. The notion made too much sense now to question it.

"You're right Trinity. And if the High Queen is a 'trusted and caring' ally of yours then I'm happy for you."He tried to hold the bubbling sarcasm for the sake of saving some semblance of the evening's grace.

Somehow the attacking forces of New York had garnered the heroine's trust. Defending it, not so much. Attempting to remove whatever mental alignment Nordok had left behind had done nothing for the CEO's reputation, and yet maybe it didnt need to. Samson didnt need the Seraphs admiration. He simply needed her compliance. Whatever misplaced trust issues she had didnt matter so long as she continued producing those favorable marketing results and continued putting herself between the Earth and those who sought to destroy it. And should the day ever come in which Trinity found herself with her back against the wall, found herself with the universe closing in with surging suffixation, the Starrs would be there to have her back. He, would be there to have her back.

With a lighthearted salute Samson smiled, "Well. Thank you for your service."

"Yeah thank you for your service" several grandchildren mocked and echoed before distraction took their attention far far away.

As a token of his new found understanding the Cybersin Superman removed a Green Leaf Kwazulu Kush blunt from his pocket, sparked it, and passed it to Trinity. He knew she knew what to do with it as Pa-Pop eagerly waited for his turn in the rotation. "An olive branch. Starr style" he smirked.

@supreme_sapien:

His mental absence hadn't completely escaped her notice. Whether stubborn, self-centered, or just ignorant, Trinity just assumed he was processing, trying to digest what she was saying. It was a lot to take in. Even she hadn't been able to fully wrap her head around the situation she'd found herself in - although mostly she blamed Ziccarra and her apparent allergy to speaking plainly understandable sentences.

And if the High Queen is a 'trusted and caring' ally of yours then I'm happy for you.

She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. "She's not–..." But it was no use. Maybe later she'd try again, after she'd had time to distance herself from the frustration he'd caused. (And the family patriarch, just in case it turned into a full-blown brawl next time.)

Thank you for your service.

Trinity smiled, simple and satisfied. Finally! Some appreciation! Maybe these Earthlings could give her what she really wanted after all.

@trinity-blue: @cesc_bo_vera: Great interaction you two. ^_^

@jada_steele: Thanks!

@the_vatican_assassin: Your welcome. ~_^

That might've been one of the best interactions I've ever done.