@the_matriarch: She knew it would be a touchy subject before she asked but it was surprising just how much Zedora stumbled when deviance was brought up. Understandable. She nodded. After all, an operation like that couldn't have sprung up overnight. Years—decades, even, of hard work probably went into it, and from the sounds of it H.I.V.E. was banking the future of the company on this ambitious—albeit risky—venture.
Deviance. Antonia was obsessed with the idea. Not just technologically but with biological organisms as well. Much of Nastya's own early conditioning was conceived for awareness of and ability to combat certain ideas which were like viruses themselves.
"I understand," she said, hoping to put Zedora at ease. "I'm not looking to identify a fatal flaw or anything. There's just a...an unrelated but similar matter that we've had to deal with recently and I suppose I'm looking to learn a bit about how to handle them. So what do you do, once you catch them? How do you 'deal with them?'"
"Deviancy is truly a mystery altogether" Zedora said displaying a series of holograms each with different unit models on the screen. "Most of the Utility Androids have a common cause of Deviancy, emotional shock due to abuse." Zedora explained gesturing to the numbers. "Other experience Deviancy due to coming in contact with an already Deviant Android. The numbers appear smaller because we typically haven't caught the "Viral Deviant" just the awakened Android."
"But what we do is study the memory core and processor to understand what the Android was going through at the time of Deviancy, once we have that information what we learned then goes into our newest products. Of course, we're still finding challenges...we've actually constructed an android that became deviant off the assembly line..."
@the_matriarch:"Interesting..." Nastya mused, half reaching to see if she could manipulate the holograms with her hands before stopping, freezing, and clasping them together with a sheepish smile."I'd love to experiment with it myself," she admitted.
"Although I don't imagine that could be arranged. What is this...'awakened android?' Do you know if it's capable of affecting systems apart from androids created by HIVE? I ask - partly out of a pure curiosity - but also, we've had an issue with an A.I. gone rogue recently. It's part of the reason I'm here. I was wondering if you or your investigator bots could help us look into it to determine what caused its...well, gosh, terms like 'deviance' seems almost like they belong to you." She hesitated, then shrugged. "Malfunction. I was wondering if you might be able to help determine the nature of the malfunction."
@cutthroatbitch: “Hmm” she pondered feeling what she could only equate to “relief” as Nastya’s purpose finally revealed itself. But the liaison posed an interesting question, were the H.I.V.E. androids the only ones affected by “deviancy” it was something she’d have to investigate.
“The awakened Android is an Android that deviated from its programming due to the influence of an already Deviant Android. I think with the help of one of investigative Androids we could definitely work together in discovering how this phenomenon happens. H.I.V.E. Is obviously more pressed to stop it”
Zedora moved just a few paces in front of the ZL2240. With a simple wave of her hand the Android turned toward Nastya with its LED registering her facial features.
“ZL2240 reporting for duty” his artificial baritone voice boomed. “Take him with you perhaps he can be of more assistance to you in the field than I. It’s a gift”
@the_matriarch: Grinning, Nastya stood and surveyed the android on a purely visual level. Later she would have Aeon check its interface and see if her own guardian A.I. could override whatever A.I. came standard, for use as a body of his own. But the Phantom came first, and in that the ZL2240 was best served as-is.
She spun on her heel but stopped just as suddenly. Pivoting back around, she regarded Zedora with a playful smile, though the squint in her eyes suggested genuine suspicion. "Can he be used to spy on me?" she asked matter-of-factly?
'Cunning' Zedora thought. Grinning as well as she could The Machine Matron moved toward the ZL2240 and placed her hand on it's shoulder. "Off the record, yes it can." She said nodding to the removed flesh on her own hand which suggest she'd temporarily disabled the Androids automatic surveillance protocol. "We have certain ties to most federal agencies that such measures are taken. You know, a national security measure. But I can deactivate this one here and now for you."
She wore a puzzled expression, not because she was surprised about the surveillance (she had asked for a reason, after all), but because she hadn't really expected an affirmative response even if it was the truth. "Well...Thank you for being honest," she said, still in apparent surprise.
She'd still run periodic checks when she remembered, and unfortunately it meant she'd most likely have to restrict its usage around colleagues, but just as much as wary, it made her want to smile. Like a government-sanctioned Panoptes Protocol. With this, Zedora could make an even stronger ally than Nastya had anticipated. Even if not willingly, she might be able to pull strings from her time working with a former Secretary of Defense.
"I think...those are all the questions I have, for now." Her eyes lingered on the hand but she didn't say anything. "Unless there's anything more you'd like to add, or ask of me...?"
"Well of course I could've lied, but I think there is a certain strength in telling you the truth. I make out more with you as an ally, than with you as an suspicious ally. I must admit, I'm actually extremely interested in learning how the ZL2240 deals with your rogue A.I problem."
Zedora moved back toward her desk before writing a number down on a piece of paper. "How the ZL2240 deals with your incident might be key in us gaining an upper hand on the deviancy issue. I hope you'll use it.
@the_matriarch: "Of course. I wouldn't come all this way just to waste both of our time. Life's too short for that," she said with a sly grin. "And by all means, don't look at this as a one-way deal. Whatever the future holds, feel free to call on me personally if there's ever an issue you need help with. I assume that's for me?" Gesturing at the paper, she took several steps back into the office. "I'll contact you so you have my information as well, and we can make full use of the eclectic range of skills between us."
@the_matriarch: "Of course. I wouldn't come all this way just to waste both of our time. Life's too short for that," she said with a sly grin. "And by all means, don't look at this as a one-way deal. Whatever the future holds, feel free to call on me personally if there's ever an issue you need help with. I assume that's for me?" Gesturing at the paper, she took several steps back into the office. "I'll contact you so you have my information as well, and we can make full use of the eclectic range of skills between us."
I think this is a good end point. Now, I'm really curious as to how this will develop down the line
It had been several weeks since her abomination of a failure in combat against her cousin, Catalina Liafador. Weeks since she had to go back into the bowels of Cardinal Hell and face her grandfather, displeased of her defeat. Not only that, but she had also lost her blade which was forged in the fires of hell. Now she was reduced to using the crimson energy saber which was given to her during her time as an Aggressor.
But through her failures, it strives her to push herself to find a weakness within her cousin that would surely bring her down. Family was a weakness, but it was also a strength. She also noticed that the her cousins Goddess abilities, didn’t come on demand, but rather when there was something for her to gain… example was Zeon’s blade. Memories of her demanding the blade echoed in her mind, because even her Zia’s Goddess, wasn’t as selfish. Then there was another factor, one that Zeon had long forgotten about… but one that she was going to need assistance to bring into flourish and she knew exactly the person who wouldn’t pass the offer of bringing down the Liafador name.
Valor City- The Cathedral
The Demoness stood in front of the large Cathedral, gazing upon the stone work of the building. It was one of the few buildings left from the once Grimm City. A reminder of what the city used to be. This was the place in which she was told her once enemy and hopefully soon to be ally would be. What an irony it was that the General of Hell would step foot in a holy place.
She walked up the stone steps, superstition she learned when she was ‘alive’ tickled the back of her mind. How demons were unable to set foot in God's holy temples. There a slight hesitation as her and reached out and figures curled around the handle before pulling the large wooden door to a creaking opening. She stepped in, the temple, while decorated with large stained glass windows that decorated the suns rays in series off different colors, was still rather dark, somber and empty.
Her footsteps echoed as a Priest was seen lighting a votive candle off to the left of the temple. A small altar was seen with several other prayer candles. Prayers for those in need, begging for answers from their God that they worshiped. The Priest turned around to look at the Italian/Spanish hybrid as he gave a small nod, acknowledging her.
“Welcome, how may I be of service?” He spoke with formality as he was dressed in the black uniform and white band around the neck. But Zeon could tell… this man was far from Holy.
She eyed him from head to toe before scoffing internally. “I’m here to meet with someone… Ada.”
"As for our problem in New York, I have someone on the inside" The various members of the Order glance at Ada in disbelief.
Before Ada could detail a plan on how she'd topple the High Queen an alter boy from the cathedral above whispered in her ear, a motion that force her to put the entire meeting on hold.
Moving swiftly thru the catacombs Ada entered the elevator and rode it to the top floor. As the doors slid open her head rose for her eyes to fall on Zeon Liafador.
Ada's history with the Liafador family run deep, her mentor was a member of this very order. She served under Ziccarra as a member of the Red Cardinals; Ada destroyed Liafador International erasing tons of historical data, money and licensing permits, meaning there'd be no more city-states.
"Liafador." She started, her french accent doing whatever it wanted with the pronunciation of Zeon's last name.
"I do not know why your family hates death, or why you've come to meet with me today. I presume you've come for something. Given your lack of White Cardinals--Zeon.
Ada didn't personally know Zeon, the young Liafador's rise to Matriarch happened after she'd already committed herself to the order.
The Liafador stood tall. Her back straight, shoulders back, chin high as she waited while her hands rested behind her back as she waited. She could feel the uneasy eyes of those in the Cathedral around her and she couldn't help but allow it to boost her pride. The moment Ada came into view, Zeon took in a sharp breath. This woman had dedicated herself to ruining the lives of her family and has done it so well, too well that the former Matriarch was now standing before her ready to ask for help.
A business proposal
She had never met Ada face to face, only seen the effects of what she did to the Liafador name. It was rather impressive. Breaking a family without even causing physical harm to them. “Pleasure to finally meet you as well Ada.” She gave a soft nod of her head as her lip curled into a half grin that quickly faded as she laid eyes upon the many individuals who currently surrounded her. “I’m not here to cause you or your followers any harm. I’m here to simply speak with you about…” she paused for a moment, trying to think up the right word to describe why she was here. “A business proposal. May we speak in private?”
Once, when I was a lawyer. There was a man that went by multipete. Folks now call him a silver age villain. In those days it was all bright colors and gimmicks. The bad guys wanted to be seen and remembered. In his case, his calling card was his dual personalities. Most of us maskers had different identities, the only difference is that we knew it and thus kept them separate. Not Multipete. He wore them both with pride.
I caught him shoving his hand up the tail pipe of a mob courier van he was trying to rob for drug money. But he got stuck, and his arm was blown clean off. In court, after they got him into recovery for six months, the judge deemed him a changed man. Said he had changed entirely over the course of his physical and mental rehab, not seeing any signs of his insane personality Peter went into society and even became a therapist.
A year goes by. I watch him through his office window writing notes in scrabble with his one arm as someone unravels their mind across from him. He seems diligent and sympathetic. Five years go by and I return out of curiosity. I found Peter Mayhew strangled to death in that office.
Police said it seemed like he somehow did it himself. The strange part wasn't that a man killed himself with his own hand, it was that it was done with his right hand.
As it turns it, Multipete didn't have split personalities. He was one of a set of twins, the lesser evil. His brother went into hiding waiting for Peter to come back to him but he never did. He felt betrayed and abandoned his home in the sewers to get revenge.
I'm living in his old hideout beneath Valor now and the signs of his madness, Matthew his name I found after checking the Saint Mingus Hospital records one night, still echo through the windy tunnels.
Like those brothers Valor may go by a different name, it may even be a different animal. But it's twisted, ugly twin still haunts this city.
Grimm still lives. So long as it does...so does Black Virtue.
The Poetic Assassin's eyebrows narrowed as Zeon's mention of a proposal. It was a bit strange to have Zeon here, but this 'proposal' intrigued her; and presented an opportunity for them to help each other.
Tilting her head a bit, her guards and the members of the cathedral entered the elevator before descending back to the Order's headquarters below.
The Green eyed Assassin moved from the alter toward a seat in the front row of the church motioning for Zeon to sit.. Her eyes never left the Liafador Demon, even though all of Zeon's expressions suggest she indeed come in peace--Ada knew better.
"I'd heard of this grand Liafador battle, the battle for Liafador supremacy; a battle that saw both Liafador figureheads die in battle. But apparently only one stayed dead...mostly. How can I be of service to you?
The Cardinal Demoness watched quietly as Ada took a seat on the front row of the impressive Cathedral and motioned to her to sit with her. Her footstep were slow as her eyes watchfully observed everything around her, keeping an eye out for any sort of… unpleasant welcoming. But she sat down, her back straight and her hands placed upon her lap, keeping a safe distance between the two as she listened to Ada speak of her battle with her Zia.
How would you like to help me break what’s left of Ziccarra’s children?
She gave her infamous smirk of a grin. “There was a battle… but that’s not why I’m here.” Zeon quickly redirected the conversation. “How would you like to help me break what’s left of Ziccarra’s children?” She paused for a moment, waiting to see the reaction of Ada to the beginning of this ‘business’ talk. “I was going through some paperwork of old buildings my family owned before you took everything and found something rather… interesting. A building in Solace City, ruined by Brahma Bull’s attack all those years ago owned by Liafador Industries.” She carefully pulled out a series of printed pictures that showed a building in ruins on the outside, looked as if nothing viable would be inside. “I went there and examined the building and what I discovered would surely bring the end to Ziccarra’s line.” From the series of pictures she pulled out one specific one and handed it to Ada. “Under the ruins is a cloning facility and in those birthing tubes I found corrupted DNA matching Ziccarra’s clone child… Catalina. While the DNA is technically Ziccarra’s, this DNA was a clones DNA and thus too corrupted to be properly reduplicated.”
A maleficent grin begun to stretch across her lips. “But that was when she was overpowered with her darkness abilities. Catalina’s DNA has been made pure since I killed Ziccarra, and thus can be used for cloning. I have the the means to clean up the facility, get the DNA and perfectly clone an squad of clones to do our will. What I need from you... is the means to get the facility running. You cunningly stole Liafador International from my family during my time as Matriarch and the family has never fully recovered from that. But with this we can extinguish what's left of her line. Once they are gone, I will have no use for them. You may do what you wish with them from then and keep the cloning facility for yourself do to your own will. I just need it temporarily so I may fulfill my promise to someone."
The former Liafador Matriarch gave a couple minute for everything to sink and allow Ada to digest what was given to her. "What do you think? Something you may be interested in?"
Ada's eyes studied the Liafador Demon, this 'Cardinal of Rage' appeared far more tranquil than the iconic moniker suggest. Something did happen in that battle with Ziccarra, something that detach this woman from her soul, something that ate away at her humanity.
Ada shift positions on the pew placing on leg behind the other as Zeon detailed a plot to end the rest of the Liafador. There was sightings of 'Ziccarra' in Daytonville, Ada knew this was Catalina having survived her attack on Cape Tassi; the de facto Liafador Matriarch made good at hiding. The information regarding the Cloning Facility wasn't new information, her attack on Liafador International did more than just produce the Liafador Replication process, It provided Ada with information most of the new generation family members still had no idea about: the Bravehearts, The Cardinals, the H.I.V.E and the Leader of the 3rd Society, all creations under the Liafador Secret empire.
"Catalina was supposed to be the perfect Liafador, but we know early Catalina was far more murderous than her mother could hope to be. How do you even plan on controlling them?" Ada asked her eyebrows narrowing at the thought. She entertained the idea, but ultimately saw no benefit in it for her.
"I say no deal. This world could benefit from less Liafadors running around, but my part in that family is over. I have everything I want. The money, the titles to both Solace and Emerald City, but most importantly the information"
Ada explained rising to full form with her hands sliding back into her hoodie. "However, I believe quid pro quo is in order. I will aid you only in the event that you aid me. It's just a small 'rescue' mission. Nothing to hard...for a goddess. We can pan out the details once you have your army. Do WE have a deal"
Zeon’s jaw began to tighten as the mortal shot her down. But she stayed silent, not explaining her entire plan of how to control the clones herself through the souls of Damned Cardinals. There was a deeper plan to all of this, but she couldn’t… no, wouldn’t explain it to someone like Ada unless she had to know. Zeon’s eyes shifted away from Ada, ready to walk out of the Cathedral and simply find another way to begin the cloning process. Though… taking her soul at the moment and have it burn in the eternal flames of Cardinal Hell did sound like a fantastic Plan B.
Then Ada began to lay out a new deal, one to manipulate Zeon into doing what she wanted/needed. Zeon snickered as she rose up from her seat, her hands now resting behind her as thought for a moment. She didn’t enjoy the thought of Ada manipulating the situation to her own benefit. Nor did she like the sound of a ‘rescue’ mission. The General of Cardinal Hell did want those clones though, very much.
But something Ada said entertained Zeon for a moment. A Goddess? She couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle. The Demoness realized that Ada had no idea of Zeon’s current situation. She still believed that she was a Demi-Goddess. "It's a shame we've never worked together before." Her head turned to look at the mortal woman as she stretched out her unnaturally icy cold hand. “Very well Ada, we have a deal.”
Ada turned to the woman she believed was a demi-goddess capitalizing on the moment to look the Liafador up and down. Slowly removing her hands from her hoodie the Poetic Assassin matched Zeon's hand taking note to it's deathly cold demeanor.
She didn't knew WHAT this woman had become, but it was clear that the previous dossiers on the former Liafador Matriarch were outdated.
As an Avatar of the Universal Goddess Y-Intercept, Ada was routinely tasked with taking on jobs much larger than herself, but this deal with Zeon opened up a new channel for the Assassin to achieve her mistress' goals.
"I assure you everything happens for a reason. I do not know what your reasoning for turning against your families banner was, or perhaps it's that they turned against you. Nevertheless had it not happened we might've met in a manner that wouldn't be beneficial to either of us."
She explained retracting her hand back to the comfort and warmth of her hoodie.
"A friend of mine in a very high place has infiltrated a rather prestigious institution , I simply need you to go and retrieve that person. You don't have to worry, the guards will be preoccupied. I just need someone "divine".
Ada placed extra emphasis on the word, Zeon's cold disposition called into question her godship. Unknown to Ada it didn't matter the former Cardinal's place on the holy scale.
With the captivating physical prestige of a true guerrilla style patriot, the Revolutionary of Reality M stoically stood outside the fringes of an international ring of black market conspirators beneath the rebuilt and re-branded city. Conspicuous, free from the shadowy veils that ran deep - ran true - through the subterranean cityscape of Old Grimm, Quintus silently observed the traditions and rules of the meet. No masks, no capes. No weapons. Two members per entourage. One heavy hitter, one mediator. No more, no less.
Luckily the displaced refugee bore little to no resembles to his legendary counterpart. Risk of exposure was minimized as all the notables were in attendance eagle-eyeing demonstrations, testing the merchandise, and networking all right underneath the brother-eye of Valor City's highly touted anti-crime measures.
"It looks clean. Serviceable. Definitely authentic." His name was Oscar Abelman. Short, genetically faulted, he was never the less an expert in the field of meta-human armaments and gear. Though he wouldnt be anyone's pick for backup, with degrees in Applied Mathematics and Aerospace Engineering, he was the only man the former Noir Rose would pick for this particular expedition.
"And the price?"as Quintus asked his 'eye' automatically shifted. Skillfully scouting the nearby buildings with minimal attention as if sensing the arrival of an unexpected variable. It may have been nothing. He was, after all, only human. But maybe, just maybe, there was something-one, out there. Watching. Waiting....
It's different. This new universe. It's like an unwanted burden and she's a mother without a choice. So much so, it's become quite the living adjustment for Clarice Michelle.
It took about six or seven months to make sense of her new universe counterpart's life. From her political scandals to alleged criminal negligence, Miss Pierce faced waves of public scrutiny from the moment she took over this woman's identity. The amount of work it took to revitalize her counterpart's brand without the aid of her powers was beyond exhausting. It was downright tiring.
Now here she was, the political patriarchy survivalist. A modernist fairy-tale of feminism's intersection with mutant rights activism. Her story of survival was plastered across Vogue, The New Yorker, GQ. How the world's first female president was ousted out of office for being a mutant.
From the coupe and her reemergence to her partnership with the Humanity Now Institute. Miss Pierce was praised for her strength and resilience despite the odds stacked against her. With so much ripe material, there were a pair of HBO producers booked to meet with Miss Pierce about a possible documentary. So, why wasn't she excited?
"Good morning, Miss Pierce. Your four o'clock will be here shortly." A cheerful voice rang inside the milky white office of Clarice Michelle. Inside the prime goddess stood as the centerpiece of her private world, only tethered to this personal reality by the things she surrounded herself with. From pictures of her sons, Lionel and Sean to the lone family portrait of her nephew Noah and herself. Everything else...everyone else didn't matter and anyone could feel that sense of disconnect whenever they stepped inside this familial memorial.
"I..I can tell them to come back later?" The assistant pressed his clipboard against and bowed his head like any decent servant would. He'd disturbed her privacy and for a moment her cold snakelike glare draped his body like a vice grip.
"It's okay, sweetheart. The essence of time sometimes gets lost on me. Y'know what I mean?" Her smile has always been a bit chilly. Maybe even colder than the snow swaying onto the outside concrete. Even so the assistant hoped if not prayed for her forgiveness and when she did his chest raised with such alleviation.
"Of course, of course, Miss Pierce! You're such an icon! Like I honestly LIVE for you. I'll be sure to let the producer's know who they're dealing with before they even step inside."
This was the first time Zoe had set foot in Valor City, and she had to admit... it was actually super impressive. The city was much more advanced than Los Angeles, and it had one of the better Universities in the States. Right now she was looking for schools to transfer to to continue her education. She was going to finish her Veterinary technician schooling in less than a year, but she figured why stop there? Why not go and become a Veterinary Technologists? Sure it was four more years of schooling, but... it paid more. So here she was, in Valor City, looking for schools to transfer to when she was done. She did think about moving to Daytonville and go to a university there, where Catalina was so she could be closer but... she didn't think Catalina would exactly approve of something like that when they were still so early into their relationship. Sure Zoe texted Catalina to check up on her but... they hadn't exactly spent time with each other since their night at Luna Island. BUT WAIT NO NOW SHE'S GETTING SIDETRACKED!
She had just finished looking at the University of her choice spoke with the appropriate people, shook some hands, signed some papers and now was currently walking down the street. Zoe wanted to get a feel for the city in general and not just the school. But most importantly, she wanted to see if anyone recognized her. Yeah the school did realize who she was and the people in the admission office couldn't help but ask the commonly asked questions (How fast can you fly? Do you need a heater at home? How many times have you accidentally set something on fire?), but the citizens of the city itself? A couple of heads turned from time to time, but no one was actually calling her out. It was... nice. No active crime happening before her eyes, which meant that feeling guilty about not being a hero wasn't going to be an issue for her. She hadn't put on her suit for a while now, and she wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.
She pulled out her phone, taking a couple of selfies around the city with silly filters and sending them to her girlfriend. She knew Catalina was having a rough time right now, so trying to make her smile was always her number one mission. Maybe she could go visit her after she finished here... after all... they hadn't even gone out on an official date yet. With an a short airy laugh of the picture she sent to Cat, she tucked her phone away and began searching the area for some hang out locations.
"Good evening, my name is Tyler Whitman and welcome to another special news report from Valor City." A holographic screen of the local news channel plays in the background. Much of the broadcast is drowned out by the grunts from Brian Newcastle's mouth.
"Work harder. Ha!" From a handstand pirouette, the Valor made hero dismounts off the balance beam before spinning around with his arms spread out.
"Think...smarter. HA!" He's wasting breath, but the mantra helps him focus. Brian lightly slaps his face to focus his attention. He kneels down and waits fifteen seconds before sprinting toward the wall.
"Live longer!" From behind him a metal bar chases, poised like a rattlesnake the device chimes louder and louder as it approaches. With a keen sense of timing the ex-force operative runs up the wall, back flips over the metal bar with his eyes closes and a smile on his face. He lands on his feet but the chiming machine recoils and hits his ankles before he can hop over it.
"Crap, crap, crap! Start the session over. I had that A.I. timer beat, Alavi!" Brian's stepfather, Brian Maddox, instilled those messages into his stepson's livelihood a long time ago. It's those same methods that created the competitive young man that stands here today. And as stubborn as he can be, Brian finds a certain joy in outdoing just about everyone in the room, including himself. This learned behavior followed him into the Force and eventually the Dominus International boardroom.
As or right now, however, Brian doesn't have anyone to compete with besides himself. It's why he's gotten accustomed to relieving much of his restlessness in his facility's technological division. Under the supervision of Nabhan Alavi, Brian has been testing a prototype A.I. personal trainer meant to upgrade the human body's conditioning, endurance and strength. Having bested the A.I. for the last few hours, it was only a matter of time before that Valor pride was humbled.
"Oh so we're gonna pretend like I didn't have that round won, huh?" Brian rolls his eyes and sticks his middle fingers up to the camera. Nabhan was inside the control room behind a protective barrier from his experiments, but he enjoyed testing Brian's nerves. With their sparring session finished, Brian squatted on the mat before falling onto his back. As he stared at the ceiling, holographic screen still playing the news, he thought about the hundred ways he could have done better during that final round. He needed to figure it out or it'd bother him for the rest of the evening.
"Alavi, I swear to GOD! Don't think this is over for a...BURP." Brian nearly barfed up the nature valley bar he had minutes before this session. His stomach grumbled, protesting for food by threatening to vomit out the milkshake he chugged an hour ago. His poor appetite was a symptom of workaholic nature. He was so caught up inside Dominus International that'd he forgotten about himself...and the rest of the world.
As he rubbed his stomach in hopes of his alleviating his pain, Brian looked at the screen to see a commercial for food.
"C'mon! Y'know you wanna come on down to the Miss Marissa's Doughnut and Pastry Shop. We're the number one spot for all your taste buds, baby!
As she walked through the city, the smell of fresh baked pastries suddenly filled the air around her. She always had a weakness for sweets, but most of all... cookies. Her electric blue eyes then spotted it, "Miss Marissa's Doughnut and Pastry Shop" Zoe read out loud as she watched a couple walk out of the shop together with cupcakes. She wasn't hungry, but she could feel her sweet tooth aching for some sugary goodness. Looking both ways she crossed the street, being the rebel that she was and not using the crosswalk as traffic was at a zero at this moment.
Taking a little hop up the sidewalk she reached out and pushed the door open as the sweet smell of everything good in the world basically slapped her in the face. It was a quaint but busy shop. All the tables filled with people laughing and enjoying their goodies. This place gave off positive vibes and it was exactly what Zoe was looking for. Walking up to the counter she was greeted by older teen wearing a pink apron and a smile on his face. Most likely a student of the university working here.
"Welcome to Miss Marissa's Doughnut and Pastry Shop, what can I get for you?" He asked, standing behind the counter. He didn't seem to recognize her either. This was amazing!
"Hello," Zoe replied back, walking up to the counter as she looked at all the goodies. It was a little overwhelming, she wasn't exactly planning on coming here. "Um, do you guys have any just... normal chocolate chip cookies?" She asked, almost embarrassed for asking for something so simple in a place where they probably had dozens of different flavored cookies.
"Oh yeah of course. How many would you like?"
I'm gonna get fat if I move here!
"I'll take... um... six." She figured she could have one (or two) now and the rest throughout the week. Sound like a solid plan even though she knew they would be gone before the evening was over.
Getting her cookies she turned as if she was ready to walk out, but instead, watched as a group of people walked out together, leaving a table right next to the window open. With a shrug of her shoulders she walked over to the table and sat down, pulling her cookie out as she looked out the window, enjoying the view as she took a bite of the cookie. "Oh my gawd this is amazing." Her eyes widen as she looked down at the simple, yet too good to be true chocolate chip cookie. "I'm gonna get fat if I move here!" She spoke out waaaaaay too excitingly to no one in particular as she wiggled in her seat before taking another bite.
With the captivating physical prestige of a true guerrilla style patriot, the Revolutionary of Reality M stoically stood outside the fringes of an international ring of black market conspirators beneath the rebuilt and re-branded city. Conspicuous, free from the shadowy veils that ran deep - ran true - through the subterranean cityscape of Old Grimm, Quintus silently observed the traditions and rules of the meet. No masks, no capes. No weapons. Two members per entourage. One heavy hitter, one mediator. No more, no less.
Luckily the displaced refugee bore little to no resembles to his legendary counterpart. Risk of exposure was minimized as all the notables were in attendance eagle-eyeing demonstrations, testing the merchandise, and networking all right underneath the brother-eye of Valor City's highly touted anti-crime measures.
"It looks clean. Serviceable. Definitely authentic." His name was Oscar Abelman. Short, genetically faulted, he was never the less an expert in the field of meta-human armaments and gear. Though he wouldnt be anyone's pick for backup, with degrees in Applied Mathematics and Aerospace Engineering, he was the only man the former Noir Rose would pick for this particular expedition.
"And the price?"as Quintus asked his 'eye' automatically shifted. Skillfully scouting the nearby buildings with minimal attention as if sensing the arrival of an unexpected variable. It may have been nothing. He was, after all, only human. But maybe, just maybe, there was something-one, out there. Watching. Waiting....
"Get out...I was here first. I was here first!" An old man in a patch work jacket that looked like it started in vietnam and just kept soldiering on through the decades collecting scars like it's owner who's beard was blackened by grime and touched the handle of the shopping cart in his hands.
The wheels squeak and wobble, how it got down here, how he did, is anyone's guess. "You best have a toll to pay me!"
"Get lost Troll." One of Oscar's men says. OG (Old Grimm) slang for guys like this who haunt the old streets claiming territories and bartering for time in them. Works best for the younger thugs with the muscle to flex, but the older ones have to make due with the fear of the unexpected of what a crazy hobo might do.
"Give me something and I'll give you 20 minutes!" He pushes out his hand, gnarled and covered in fingerless gloves. "Rules is rules and you can't break'em for nothin or nobody! I know you knows'em! Is fair warrant for compensation!"
Like all panhandlers, the cart pushing stranger seemingly had little more to offer then vague comments and even vaguer promises of reward. Both Quintus, Oscar, and those in attendance did their best to ignore the apparent vagrant until the former Noir Rose sighed and tossed a money clipped wad of cash in the man's direction. "Here. Now be on your way. This is no place for someone like you." the Knightfall paragon's voice was direct, masking his concern over the stranger's well being.
Turning over his shoulder, his nod initiated the previous financial transaction. A digital hand held device was then brought over for closer examination before purchase. "This is it. We'll take it."
@quintus_knightfall: "Oh...oh, ohh...lettuce...!" The old man sniffs the wad of cash, "Fresh too."He looks it over. "I don't know who the hell he is but he better not be the first cousin of Mickey Mouse. I'll be back in 10 minutes." The old man puts the cash in his pocket and pushes the cart off back out the mouth of the alleyway, making a left and squeaking down the sidewalk.
After a block and a half he turns down a narrower alleyway. Even his cart can't fit through the thin passage so he leaves it. Coming up from the distance he makes out a familiar body outline, traced by the orangle glow of a burning fire in an old oil drum.
"How many?" The man asks
"Six" Willy straightens himself up and his back pops with every inch, Christ almighty! I need to stretch more. One isn't much, but the other ones are armed and got that look like they've been in the sh!t. Especially the guy with one eye..."
"Describe him to me." The man starts loosening the ties on his leather jacket and pulling the draw belt out of the back so it flowed open.
"About 6'2, lean for a guy with a head full of greys. Had a fancy suit. Looked like Kevlar or something. Heard'em just enough to figure they was buying guns"
The man at the fire pulls a hood hidden beneath his jacket out and wraps it around his head, The top of his head coming to two points as the leathered mask encompasses his neck and face.
The trafficking has gotten worse. First drugs, then people. Now guns. Every since the topside had become gentrified, for lack of a better term, Old Grimm has become the land of the forgotten and persecuted alike. the rats infest the basement when the house is on fire.
He puts a pair of goggles over his eyes and finally turns to face the crooked vet.
"Stay here and get warm. I'll be back."
"What are you gonna do to those guys dressed like that?"
Give them something to remember
-----
Benjamin catapults himself from one rooftop to the next until he finally lands adjacent to the men Bill described to him. They were two cases of some unknown contraband richer and making a b line for the exit tunnels. He had to move fast.
Pulling a worn out grappling gun from his back he fires off a shot at an old water tower, the legs of its base rusted and uncertain. For a second he almost gambles the swing but then stops and thinks about it.
Wrapping the wire around his thick forearm the old man pulls at the base support with all his strength until finally, it buckles. The water tower comes down, bone dry but heavy, over the pathway of the three men.
(Sorry for the delay I've had a cold the last few days.)
As she walked through the city, the smell of fresh baked pastries suddenly filled the air around her. She always had a weakness for sweets, but most of all... cookies. Her electric blue eyes then spotted it, "Miss Marissa's Doughnut and Pastry Shop" Zoe read out loud as she watched a couple walk out of the shop together with cupcakes. She wasn't hungry, but she could feel her sweet tooth aching for some sugary goodness. Looking both ways she crossed the street, being the rebel that she was and not using the crosswalk as traffic was at a zero at this moment.
Taking a little hop up the sidewalk she reached out and pushed the door open as the sweet smell of everything good in the world basically slapped her in the face. It was a quaint but busy shop. All the tables filled with people laughing and enjoying their goodies. This place gave off positive vibes and it was exactly what Zoe was looking for. Walking up to the counter she was greeted by older teen wearing a pink apron and a smile on his face. Most likely a student of the university working here.
"Welcome to Miss Marissa's Doughnut and Pastry Shop, what can I get for you?" He asked, standing behind the counter. He didn't seem to recognize her either. This was amazing!
"Hello," Zoe replied back, walking up to the counter as she looked at all the goodies. It was a little overwhelming, she wasn't exactly planning on coming here. "Um, do you guys have any just... normal chocolate chip cookies?" She asked, almost embarrassed for asking for something so simple in a place where they probably had dozens of different flavored cookies.
"Oh yeah of course. How many would you like?"
I'm gonna get fat if I move here!
"I'll take... um... six." She figured she could have one (or two) now and the rest throughout the week. Sound like a solid plan even though she knew they would be gone before the evening was over.
Getting her cookies she turned as if she was ready to walk out, but instead, watched as a group of people walked out together, leaving a table right next to the window open. With a shrug of her shoulders she walked over to the table and sat down, pulling her cookie out as she looked out the window, enjoying the view as she took a bite of the cookie. "Oh my gawd this is amazing." Her eyes widen as she looked down at the simple, yet too good to be true chocolate chip cookie. "I'm gonna get fat if I move here!" She spoke out waaaaaay too excitingly to no one in particular as she wiggled in her seat before taking another bite.
It wasn't that long ago, when the Force was still around, that Brian would drive his lazy partner's rundown minivan to pick up fifty dollar's worth of doughnuts and coffee from Miss Marissa's Doughnut Shop and Pastry. Brian was paying his rookie dues whenever he picked up the precinct's morning breakfast. At some point or another, Castillo and Crews started joking around and calling it Brian's perv pickup truck. These days, however, trips to the shop were few and far between.
"Mister! Mister Newcastle, a word?" Despite putting a large amount of his time into improving the crumbling infrastructure of the former Grimm City, the Newcastle legacy has often found himself followed by journalists and their cellphones whenever he stepped outside the Dominus International facility. He couldn't bother himself with whatever spiel this guy was trying to sell. What more could he say? S.T.R.I.K.E. closed their investigation on his alleged cooperation with Ada Guillaume. It was a new dawn. It was a new day. It was time the press found another story to spin.
"The word? You want the word? It's DOUGHNUTS." Brian rolled his eyes as he approached the shop. He refused to pay anymore mind to the past. He was tired of it. Well, that was until the color palette of the shop's dining table tops brought forth a bittersweet nostalgia. His mood shifted, maybe even lightened as the bell rang when he pulled the handle of the entrance door.
He was admittedly taken aback. A wave of memories crashed against his thoughts so vividly he almost forgot what he was doing here in the first place. It was when he heard the exuberant voice of another customer that Brian cracked up with laughter. She seemed so excited about Marissa's heavenly baked cookies that Brian wondered why he hadn't come by the shop sooner. That thought didn't last long.
"Oh my goodness! Do my eyes deceive me!?? Is that Danny's boy!!?" Miss Marissa Sherwood was a short and plump woman. It didn't mean she couldn't give a good left swing, but whenever she shined those pearly whites of hers, just about anyone would smile from ear to ear in return. Her appearance always exuded a radiant glow. It was that same positive nature that acted as a testament to the valor of the city's recovering community.
"Oh, um, yeah. It's me. I'm back and ready to get a little heavier. Might even get some of those cookies, I hear people raving about." Brian sheepishly smiled as his eyes darted away from Miss Marissa and instead landed on the sight of @feral_nova
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