Before Zoe knew it, all six cookies were gone… oops. As she sighed, slightly disappointed at herself, she heard the ecstatic shout of the one and only Miss Marissa greeting a someone who just walked into the store. Zoe couldn’t help but turn her head at the commotion that suddenly began. The man… looked familiar...ish, pretty sure he was on TV once?
Her eyes darted away as she sat and thought for a moment. Wasn’t it Benny? No… Bentley? No… B-b-b-b-b- BRIAN! That was his name! He was the guy who rebuilt Grimm City into Valor City after the city was destroyed. He seemed pretty well liked by the public. Maybe making a connection with him would be a good idea, seeing that she was thinking about possibly moving here.
She stood up from her seat, and walked over casually to the counter to where the young man who helped her earlier, helped her once again. “Yeah… can I have like a dozen of them?” The former hero asked, giving a nervous chuckle as she then turned her attention over to the Savior of Valor City. “The cookies here are addicting and amazing.” Zoe began, trying to spark a conversation as she extended her hand to him. “Brian Newcastle, right? I’m Zoe Olesnicky, it’s nice to meet you.” She introduced herself.
"It's nice to meet you to...Zoe." From the very second he entered the shop, the A.I. system integrated into his central nervous system scanned just about anyone with a Dominus International phone, tablet or electronic device. The Grid could sift through emails, phone calls and internet history. It was his own personal database, but this girl had no relationship with his city. At least not yet.
"I'm surprised to see you, actually." Her name pinged once on the Grid. It was for a visit to the recently rebuilt Valor City University. Before the attack, it was the Grimm City community college. Brian attended for two years before deciding to transfer out. Nowadays, however, it was breaking new ground for different areas of science and medical care. Thanks in big part to the likes of Nabhan Alavi, Cassandra Addams and Ashley Knightfall investing into the city's rebirth.
"I'm in no way dressed to meet a hero." He was wearing sunglasses, a backwards college football hat, a shirt and skinny jeans on the one humid day in February. Brian felt reasonably underdressed. Her star power preceded Zoe Olesnicky. He could pronounce her last name if his life depended on it, but he could say Feral Nova. Newspaper articles and online think pieces cluttered the search history projecting on a thinly layered holographic screen attached to his left pupil.
"Marissa, could you please get us those cookies and maybe some coffee? Cream and sugar on the side. I'll let her decide how she wants it, but bill it to my card, por favor."
Brian briefly turned to Marissa and embraced her with a gentle hug. The reminder of Danny sunk his heart, but the warmth of her love reminded him of his purpose. Creating a thriving community was everything to Brian Newcastle and if he could create more symbols of hope like himself. Then maybe an unforeseen Zoe Olesnicky could do Valor City well.
"Well, Zoe. I understand you might be knew around here and as Valor number one resident. I feel kind of obligated to show you around. Would you be interested?"
"I'm not feeling so well." No one's feeling well these days. Not even Justine, who's been heaving into an empty pillowcase for the last few minutes. Nurses have tried to bring her water, but she's slapped every cup that hasn't tasted like fresh drops of rain. She can be difficult that Justine, but how hard is it? To find some goddamn fresh rain water!???
"Well why don't you dumb broads DO SOMETHING ABOUT!!!?" It's honestly aggravating getting some good healthcare in this godforsaken city. Why wasn't anyone trying to help her? It was upsetting her. It would upset her friends even more if they knew what was going on.
"Please, please, please. You don't understand. The rain, the rain it calms me down." She could cower under the covers, wait for the headache to go away, but why bother? Resting wasn't going to be an option, especially with the dotting eyes surrounding her bed. It was hard to focus on just one. She was dizzy. So, dizzy like she'd just spun around the world and back again.
"Miss Justine, we're sorry...but you're not in the right state of mind. You're intoxicated." Intoxicated, they think she's intoxicated. Finding some good hooch was harder than finding a faithful man. This wasn't no damn hooch, this wasn't hooch at all. If it was then Justine would have been chasing her perverted neighbor with some broken glass by 9 pm. The accusation was upsetting. So, upsetting that Justine couldn't hold back her friends any longer.
Meet Frida K. Mexican-American artist with three dead husbands and two girlfriends she abandoned in the old country. She likes to fight and fuss about the uncultured and uneducated idiots living in Grimm City. Frida K thinks problems are solved with fists and lips.
Powers: Toxic Saliva, Pheromone Manipulation and Bio-electric Energy Blasts.
"Idiotas, idiotas, idiotas! Ustedes son idiotas!" A rush of energy shot up her spin, her skin reddened, her bated breathes looked like an exhaust pipe pumping out smoke.
"Come mi vomito, idiotas!" She flung the pillow case around the bed. Chunks of rice and chicken plastered on the wall behind her, but most it landed on the nurse standing at the foot of her bed. She fainted the very minute a piece of partially chewed chicken slapped the corner of her mouth. It was so funny that even as her own stomach contracted, forcefully pushing out saliva, the young woman laughed like she'd never laughed before.
"Mi nombre es Frida K, esta bien?" Frida K didn't like it when people confused her with Miss Justine. She was such a weakling that little girl. Always asking to sit out in the rain cause it blocked out her friends, her f-r-i-e-n-d-s. Like how rude is that? Thankfully, Frida K was back in charge.
Her black dress was tattered at the knees, the oxford shoes on her soles were rundown from all the stomping she'd been doing when those coppers dragged her into this sad excuse for a hospital. It was unbecoming of a young lady to look so disheveled, but Frida didn't care one bit. She needed to get Justine back home before those damn coppers found her out.
"HANDS UP! HANDS UP!" It was too late, Frida K knew it. It was too late to walk out of here with her head held high and saliva on her chin. At the end of the hallway, two men in uniform raised their firearms in her direction. She was maybe the only brown girl living on the upper east side of Grimm City. A brown girl like her with some cash was like a spit in the face to the high rollers around these parts.
"Mas idiotas." If it wasn't for Justine's daddy's connects, those triggers probably would have been pulled. Luckily their hesitance benefited Frida K. When her stomach contracted once more, she lurched forward and spat out poison saliva. It darted across the hallway and blinded her would be captors. Which would in turn give her enough time to stagger down the hall and down the stairs.
"Quickly, Madam, quickly!" A voice calls from below the stairs, distant and authoritative. It was less of a call to survival but a scolding for being late.
As Justine rounds the stairwell and reaches the front door it flies open. On the other side, another door into a much nicer house. Between the two thresholds stands a four-foot chimpanzee in half-moon glasses.
"While I'm sure suddenly seeing a talking animal in a magic house appear, I can assure you, this is not your brand of crazy. It is God's."
"Now if you'll step right this way and not spit in my eyes, we can escape the confines of the early 20th and go somewhen more hospitable. Come, come, come." The elderly mammalian stumbles into the house on the other side and disappears behind the door.
"It's nice to meet you to...Zoe. I'm surprised to see you, actually. I'm in no way dressed to meet a hero."
Her face slightly scrunched at the mention of her being a hero as she could feel the eyes suddenly shift over to her. Even Marissa and the worker’s eyes looked over at her. Nervously she gave a light airy laugh as the dozen cookies were given to her in a nice small pink box inside a pink bag for her to easily carry.
“Please, I’m really not all that.” She desperately tried to downplay herself. She didn’t want or need any attention. Zoe just wanted to take her cookies and head back to the hotel she was going to stay at for the night.
"Marissa, could you please get us those cookies and maybe some coffee? Cream and sugar on the side. I'll let her decide how she wants it, but bill it to my card, por favor."
“Oh uh, just the cookies. Please and thank you.” She smiled at the worker who was already slowly pulling out his cellphone for a picture. She gave a simple pose, smile while holding up the box of cookies with one hand and a thumbs up with another. She watched as Brian and Marissa exchange affection that blossomed from a deep friendship. She stayed silent for a moment as Brian said his goodbye.
"Well, Zoe. I understand you might be knew around here and as Valor number one resident. I feel kind of obligated to show you around. Would you be interested?"
The former hero blinked for a moment, surprised at the offer. She gave a half smile and nod her head. “You know what, that sounds amazing. I would love it.” She followed Brain out of the shop, but not before turning around and giving one last “Thank you” to Marissa and the worker.
“So,” Zoe began. “Tell me Number One Resident, what’s your favorite thing about the city?”
"I'm sorry, I didn't answer your question earlier." When Brian and Zoe reached the Honor Valley Park, the joy Valor City brings him becomes evident. Brian pulls off his sunglasses, his earthy green eyes gleaming and those dimples teasing his reddened cheeks. As much as he relished the fame and the glory, Brian would be foolish to say he didn't enjoy the quieter moments.
"Sometimes, I don't know where to begin." He's got a particular peace of mind as he walked past the rosemary bushes parted by park benches. For Brian, the fact that he wasn't worried about being robbed was calming. Maybe that was his favorite thing about Valor City. Knowing he guaranteed his community the safety that his childhood never had.
"You see, Zoe, it took nearly two years for the city to get to this point." Everyone likes to think Valor City was created overnight, but what they don't know is that it took a year to convince the state for funding. Construction took even longer after the attack. Maybe that was his favorite thing about Valor City. The resiliency to continue for change despite the obstacles standing in its' way.
"I grew up here, y'know. Before the world started to care about us." He remembered how scared he used to be. How his stepfather, Brian Maddox, taught him how to fight in case any bully tried to push him around. So, maybe that's what his favorite thing about Valor City was. The survivalist nature his people had within their soul.
"So, I guess my favorite thing about this city is...me." He didn't stammer when he spoke. He said it quite confidently actually. Valor City made him the man he is today. Shouldn't he be proud of that?
"I think what I'm trying to say Zoe is that Valor brings out the best in each and every one of us." He took a sip from his coconut caramel latte before taking a seat on the nearest available park bench. With his sunglasses pinned on his long sleeve shirt, the material stretched over his chest as his left arm stretched on the top of the bench.
"This city, Zoe, I don't feel like I do it justice, because when the cards were stacked against it. This city dug deep into itself and said 'THIS IS WHO I AM!' and y'know what? I'm proud to say I was a part of it." His smile became a smirk before it became a pout. For a moment, he remembers the pain, the sorrow, the death. He can faintly remember the smell of Whitaker's blood on his face, the sound of children crying for their mother's, the taste of defeat Ada Guillaume left in his mouth.
"It's a lot. I'm probably being a lot. I'm just so proud to live here, but enough about me. I've spoken way too much. Take a seat with me if you don't mind and tell me. What do you see for yourself...in this city?" Brian wanted her to mention the university. He hoped to steer the conversation into convincing Zoe into making a permanent move to Valor.
Zoe followed Brain as she took in the sites of the city which eventually lead them, to Honor Valley Park. The vibrant green grass, the trees with strong trees that provide shade to the many people roaming the park. She stood quietly as the light breeze ran through her blonde hair, one hand in pocket while the other one still holding into the bag of cookies from Miss Marissa's. She liked it here so far.
She listened to him ramble on about himself, and she couldn’t help but give a light airy chuckle. He was a prideful one, that was for sure. But he did do a lot for the city, so he did have a right to boast about himself. Zoe was like that too when she was in We Are Legend… back when she was 16. Her eyes then shift down him to where he sat as he began to talk about the city as a whole, as if it was it’s own individual person. She couldn’t help but give a smile to that. He was proud of his city and what it became, and it came a very long way to what it used to be before.
The Son of Valor City then motioned for Zoe to sit next to him as he then asked her about her future in the city. She walked over, taking a seat as she leaned forward, her arms resting on her legs as she sat for a moment and thought. “I just… don't feel like Los Angeles is for me anymore.” The once hero of The City of Angels admitted. “I feel like Valor City could be the new start I need in life, something that Los Angeles can't give me anymore. The university here is also pretty amazing. I can see myself going there. However, I am looking into other Universities as well, not just here in Valor City.” While Valor City was looking like good primary choice, another choice that she was considering was the city where her girlfriend was living. She would love to be able to just... you know... spend more time with her without the distance in between them. Buuuuuut they agreed to keep things as private as possible, so her moving into the same city… was probably not the best idea. "But... yeah... I loved that... when I walked down the street, people weren't automatically horrified when they saw me. In fact, most of them seemed to not even realize who I was. It's great. I can just... be me again."
"Zoe, I'm gonna be honest with you, okay?" Since his days in the academy, Brian has had this knack for guiding conversations. His low level telepathy and empathetic power were weapons of coercion. So much so, Brian was issued a pair of power dampeners prior to his Force recruitment.
"I don't know if we can ever truly know ourselves...definitively." At this point, the son of Valor had taken off his sunglasses and slid them into his pocket. He'd taken off his cap and allowed his messy brown hair brush against his forehead. Brian was convinced if she could feel the emotion his words brought to his face, she'd feel that very same emotion.
"I mean, think about it. We're constantly learning, working and living out our lives each and every day. So, maybe just maybe, Los Angeles doesn't fit you anymore, because there's a new you waiting to break free." Brian always believed discomfort necessitated change. It's why he actively caused conflict during Grimm's final days. For him, hearing Zoe's elation in anonymity told him enough about her past. She sought a sense of normalcy.
"If you can see yourself breaking free of whatever box the world's put you in. If you believe you deserve a shot at becoming that new you then stay in Valor, Zoe." There was conviction in his voice. His eyes, however, never met with Zoe's. Instead, Brian watched a nearby couple walking their dog through the park. With his coffee in hand, Brian pointed in their direction for Zoe to see.
"Don't believe me? I want you to look at them closely." The husband walked with cybernetic leg replacements attached at his thighs. A sliver of metal could be seen at the ankle. His wife, on the other hand, wore cybernetic eyes that gave her a virtual view of her world through the Dominus International grid. A grid that could manifest a map of Valor City including locations of nearby crimes, police stations and hospitals. The couple was a testament of pushing oneself beyond the box society would try to put them within.
"Valor City University is the reason they're able to participate in life. I'm not lying when I say our city is becoming a leader in medicine and technology, because of contributions from my company and donors like Ashley Knightfall. I know for a fact that we're about to change the world by letting everyone know we aren't some sh*t hole city anymore."Brian paused, talking so much made him thirsty so he took a sip before continuing his heartfelt monologue.
"I'll have you know we're even trying to see if our efforts can help the animals affected by the attack. I'm telling you, Zoe. The possibilities are endless. You just gotta ask yourself." This where Brian made his bread and butter. This is how conversations, proposals, speeches and interrogations always seemed to work in his favor.
"Is there anything or anyone holding you back from working toward the new...you?" Brian would create an enemy. An intangible being that could lift the burden off their target's shoulders. So, they could see his promises were truth. So, they could feel the empowerment surge through their veins. So, they could live their lives as he sought fit. Brian wanted Feral Nova in Valor City and he believed she wanted to be here just as much as him.
Everything hurt. Every limb, every inch, every cell, every iota of her being, ached with a bone-deep pain, the likes of which she had never experienced. That was the first thing she noticed, before even opening her eyes. The second was the overwhelming smell of antiseptic, which assaulted her delicate nostrils. The third, the third was the mechanical piercing BEEP BEEP BEEP that echoed steadily through the room.
Not again, she thought to herself. What was the last thing that had happened, the last thing she remembered? Her brain was slow, groggy, and the ability to think was only starting to shutter back to life. Her thoughts were slow and she grew frustrated before it hit her like a tractor trailer.
The high school had come down on her. That had been something in the pool area she hadn't accounted for and the entire area had gone up like a tinder box. Her mouth opened on a silent cry as she relived the searing agony along her back, the crushing pain to her legs, and she fought the urge to flip onto her stomach and assess the damage. She didn't feel any bandages on her back, why was that?
Nobody was in the room with her, she knew that. She slitted her eyes open, surveying to see if there were any cameras in her direct line of sight. She still wasn't sure where the feck she was. Who had her, friend or foe? She didn't want anybody realizing she was awake until she was ready for them to do so.
At first glance it looked like your run-of-the-mill hospital room, but she'd been in the Catholicon enough to know what cutting edge medical tech looked like, and this place was filled with it. This was no rnn of the mill joint, this was an entirely different beast. That thought just ramped her danger senses up even more.
She looked over at her pale hand, taking a moment to note that her naturally pale skin had taken on an utterly alabaster pallor. When was the last time she had seen the sun? There were wires hooked to her. A device on her finger measuring her vitals, an IV line in her vein giving her something. And the machine giving a readout of her vitals. Tessa moved as slowly as possible, sliding herself, still prone, to the edge of the bed. Without looking, she pried open the front panel and instinctively did some things with the wires.
She reached and removed the monitor from the tip of her finger for just a second. When there was no change in the beeps and whirs or bright green electronic readouts on the machine, she removed the whole thing. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut before pulling the IV line from her arm. Her toes curled into the harsh cotton sheets of the bed and she had a quick thought about at least having her legs be functional for this.
Several minutes passed as she gathered her energy and conducted a more thorough review of her surroundings. There were no obvious cameras, and if there were any hidden she would have sensed them. There was a bedside table on the side of her bed opposite the machinery. It read 11:57am. No date present. She turned that over in her mind, saving it to worry over later.
She pulled the sheet away from her chest to look at her garb. Loose black lounge pants and a black cotton tunic shirt. Where the hell was she? Not usual hospital garb, but convenient for what she needed to do.
It took three full minutes to swing her legs over the side of the bed and begin to put weight on them. Her knees almost collapsed from under her, and she felt like an unwieldy newborn deer just learning to walk. She'd never been more frustrated. Her body was a weapon, and it had once been a finetuned machine. But there was muscle atrophy in her legs.
How long had she been here?
She clenched the hollow IV line in her hand as she trudged towards the door to her room. If somebody got within close enough range she could always shove it through an artery. It would only work once, but once would be enough to give her leverage in any potential altercation.
She depressed the lever handle and quickly poked her head out to survey. There was what appeared to be a nurse's station across from her. No clear exit points marked within eyesight. She was on a ward, or a lab, or something. But where the feck was she, and what the feck day was it, and where the feck were her brothers? Had they made it out of Grimm? Her heart kicked into an accelerated beat at the thought, and bile rose in her throat. She shoved both the reactions down and forced a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
She took a deep breath and held it as she pulled the door to her room open again and darted out of the entrance to her room, her bare feet silent on the tile floor as she covertly began making her way down a suspiciously empty hallway.
She sat silent for a moment, her eyes gazed upon the people who have made their lives here. Some were (in a way) like her, trying to start again and they were happy. She wanted that. She didn't want to just be happy with just a couple of things in her life (like school and her amazing new girlfriend) but her life as a whole. Was that too much to ask for? His words gnawed at her brain as her brows pushed against each other. She sat up, leaning back in the bench as her leg began bouncing out of habit of when she got lost in her thoughts. Zoe took in a deep breath. What was holding her back from making the move here? What was keeping her in a city that hated her and resented her? Why couldn't she move on? Then, she felt it, the knot build up in her throat.
Her leg stopped moving. “Guilt.” She softly spoke, her blue eyes shifting over to the Prince of Valor City, a weight of heaviness in them. “The guilt of becoming happy with my life.” The weight of what she did to Emerald City and Los Angeles all those years ago still to this day weighed heavily on her. She tried, so hard, to make up for it. But how do you make up for all the death? Her live was slowly coming together. School, Catalina, now this possible move? Everything was falling into place perfectly. This is what she wanted, but she felt so guilty that she was getting it. "I feel like I don't deserve it. I feel like... I have to be unhappy with my life. As punishment."
She had been seeing a therapist, and even they confirmed that she needed to let her past go and move forward with her life. But… they didn’t see the faces of those she killed, they didn’t get those anxiety attacks at night or get those horrible glares from people in the street. But she was also tired of it. She wanted to move past it. But she felt like there was just this... anchor holding her down in Los Angeles, stopping her from moving on. “But... I don't want to be unhappy. I want to move here. I want to make Valor City my new home.”
Like a hushed rumor, Richard had vanished never to be heard from again. Kellan had stalked the shadows, but found nothing of his brother. Their quest to destroy the Lavalieres it seemed, had ended before ever truly beginning. Perhaps the Strigidae had finally claimed him. And perhaps now they would come for them all. The Seven Secret Masters were bogeymen. Glimpsed more in whisper and legend than in reality. Richard, it seemed, was no more. Yet for Tessa - a Strigidae's daughter - he saw a glimmer of hope. He could protect her. And he trusted only in himself to meet eyes with a Secret Master and not shrink in terror. He had been training, and unearthing genetic relics left to him by his ancestor, صفر - the first Strigidae.
Tessa had been in a coma.
So he moved through the darkness in silence, weaving through the shadows till his eyes welcomed the glare of hospital lights - and a redhead in a hospital gown. "You're in danger", he warned, ruby eyes weighed by severity, "And there's no time to explain". Least of all here. Tessa had missed a lot. The Purge in particular, and it's fallout. He'd coil an arm round hers and teleport her through the shadows and to his forefather's temple. There, he'd explain everything, but not here.
Who is she? Tessa Callahan. Murmur. We hear murmurs in her mind. There are other names. One's that don't make sense for a casual hero. Her youth is unbecoming. There's a long history for such a short life.
What is she? Human, we believe. It's become difficult for the science division to classify our Patient Hero. Multiple blood reports have shown no sign of the mutant gene. So, how she survived the explosion is anyone's guess.
When did he find her? The morning after the Grimm attack. Hours after Ada Guillaume disappeared. An unresolved thread for another time. Patient Hero, however, appeared from out of nowhere. The Grid didn't even pick her up, because patient hero doesn't use Dominus tech. Samantha thinks that's...unfortunate.
How did he find her? Unconscious and damaged. Barely clinging to life. No filed missing person's reports appeared on the Grid. Friends and family are unaccounted for. Either no one knows she's gone or no one cares. It's so depressing when we think about it. Alana can't imagine having no one by her side.
Why did he take her in? Brian considers Patient Hero an investment for the future. We've worked tirelessly in the last few months. Mental barriers are tough to unlock, especially for a comatose patient. It's tedious work for the telepathic hive mind. Most days it's like opening a door only to meet a wall on the other side. Sabrina fears finding personal demons in the darkness of her mind.
It wasn't until this morning, that the Legacy sisters felt they'd finally broken through Patient Hero's mental encasement. There was a hairline fracture in her mind that needed some tearing down. It wouldn't be easy, they thought. They would need something or someone to help expose that vulnerability. So, they pushed and pushed hoping she'd awake. A world changed since her disappearance would certainly shock Patient Hero. It would allow them the opportunity to connect with Miss Callahan. Learn how she felt, how she thought and how she operated within this world.
Brian saw potential in the girl. That potential was made clear when the devil arrived. If there was a familial connection between the two. A history of any sort that would bring forth some emotion, the Legacy sisters from the comfort of their own office would telepathically enter her mind. Following her next moves, intent with testing their leader's investment's worth.
"I'm sorry if I've pushed too hard." Sometimes in the midst of working for personal gain, Brian would find himself taken aback. For a moment he slouched forward with his chin laying on the palm of his hand. He bit at his nails while he rested the cup of coffee between his thighs. Brian had to think for a moment. He had to think, because he wasn't expecting such a sincere response. It's what he wanted, but he didn't expect the reliability.
"I-I just know what it feels like. The guilt of feeling happy." Brian's powers were still new to him. So, despite knowing how to elicit and play with other's emotions, Brian would feel just the same as they would. His own guilt resurfaced like an anchor being dropped into the depth of his memories. He looked troubled, his eyes weighed down as he remembered the foul things he committed to make Valor City happen.
"Months ago, I made a promise to myself. I said, 'Brian you're gonna fight for your happiness.' I said that and I meant that." He lifted his chin, turning his head so his line of sight could align with hers. It wasn't easy staying true to his promise. His hopes for heroism weren't reciprocated by his reality. Earning public support was becoming more and more difficult as expectations became higher and higher. Good standing with the Dominus International board was even more troublesome. The fact that he was outside breathing air instead of working would no doubt come up in conversation at the next meeting.
"It's not easy, Zoe. I have a bad habit of thinking I can do everything on my own, but maybe we're not supposed to do it alone." Brian never looked for help after the Grimm attack. The Legacy sisters would visit him weekly to ensure he was taking his anxiety medication and telepathically tending to his mental stress. They cared for him whenever they could. Worked in his favor however they could, but even so...they felt distant as of late. They avoided speaking about anything personal after surviving an attack from Belladonna during that heinous night.
"Maybe we could both use some help, y'know? A friend, even." Brian took a deep breath as he leaned back onto the bench. He slid his hand into his pocket and took out his A-X Phone. He tried to give a slight nod to Zoe that she should ask for his number. As the screen lit up, the background showed a group photo of himself and Michael Whitaker. In the pic, Brian had Whitaker in a headlock. No doubt trying to convince his partner to lighten up.
"I know I could use someone in my life whose got good taste in cookies."
"Quickly, Madam, quickly!" A voice calls from below the stairs, distant and authoritative. It was less of a call to survival but a scolding for being late.
As Justine rounds the stairwell and reaches the front door it flies open. On the other side, another door into a much nicer house. Between the two thresholds stands a four-foot chimpanzee in half-moon glasses.
"While I'm sure suddenly seeing a talking animal in a magic house appear, I can assure you, this is not your brand of crazy. It is God's."
"Now if you'll step right this way and not spit in my eyes, we can escape the confines of the early 20th and go somewhen more hospitable. Come, come, come." The elderly mammalian stumbles into the house on the other side and disappears behind the door.
Madam? She liked the sound of that. He wasn't a man, but he sure knew a lady when he saw one. It's why and only why she payed him any mind. As she reached the bottom of the stairwell, Frida K bolted toward the front door. It was like one of the novels she'd read by the fireplace. An adventure into mystery with a tall, dark and handsome...monkey?
"I don't have time for questions, sir!" She heard the frantic footsteps of dizzied coppers making their way down the stairs. She hadn't the time for gunshots. Frida K missed the good old days when men fought with their bare hands. These days they depended on bullets bigger than their balls.
"I imagine daddy has you on the payroll, no?" She ran outside only to arrive inside another place. She was the least bit bewildered, but rather enchanted. It was an impressive castle, she presumed. Maybe a hidden getaway for her and daddy, but her excitement didn't speak for everyone. Instead, it frightened Justine. So much so, it made her nervous. Like more nervous than you're everyday nervous nerve wracking person who gets nervous a lot. That was a mouth full, but a talking monkey. That's strange, isn't it?
Introducing Nelly Nerves! A working class woman with bakery somewhere in Europe. She hates leaving the house if it's for anything that isn't work. Strangers make her nervous. New places make her nervous. A lot of things make her nervous. That's why she carries around her emotional support blanket everywhere she goes. It keeps her anchored.
Powers: The blanket weighs as much as a wrecking ball. We imagine she's got super-strength. We'd rather not find out. So, ummm try your best to calm her down por favor.
"Wait, wait, wait just a minute. Did you say leave the early 20th like the early 20th Century? That doesn't make any damn sense. Are you one of them wack-a-doodle scientists who doesn't believe in God? Oh God, please. I'm in hell. Aren't I? This is what I get for sleeping in on Sunday." She clenched her blanket as she knelt down on the floor, clasping her hands together as she tried to say a prayer in hopes of earning the good Lord's forgiveness.
@justine_love: The elderly chimp stops in his place, his cane dropping like a third foot on to the dark hardwood floor, "Madams." He turns to the splintered young woman, "My name is George, and that door must be closed before we can begin our escape." George lifts his cane and a long wire of cobalt shoots the golden paw at the bottom directly at the door just to the left of Nerves and slams the door in the face of two tall hatted copper badged constables.
"Now, as to your grovellings, I can assure you this is not a journey to your end. We are off to beginnings, to explorations of--"
"George" A cold voice says as it sweeps through the house. Just above the staircase that wound in two directions, a man in a white 3 piece suit leans on the gold plated railing smoking a cigarette. "Let's not jump ahead in the story. Bring our new guest to the study and we can get to it. I promise i'll let you tell it."
George smiles with a twinge of innocence, "Very well." The man wanders off into the shadowy spots of the halls until his smoke can't be seen anymore.
"Well. That was the master of the house, and my friend. Let's get you introduced."
10 minutes later, after a long, and thanks to an elderly chimp, slow walk.
George grabs both handles of a set of double doors and pushes them open to reveal floor to ceiling bok cabinets on a far wall, to it's right a crackling fire. Just between the two a set of chairs, steaming tea dividing them on a small table. The man in white sitting with a leg crossed reading on an A-pad.
"Ladies Love, I would like to introduce you to the Master of the house, Thomas Newcastle. He's to thank for your escape from that madhouse." He points his cane at the empty chair, "Well? Go on. He's waiting."
Suddenly the house shunts forward with a mind it's own and tries to give the girl a step forward.
“Na…” Zoe shook her head looking at the ground for a moment. “I just have a problem with oversharing.” The hero gave a weak smile as she set her box of cookies on the bench with them. It actually felt good to say it out loud, to get it off her chest, why she wasn’t allowing herself to just be happy with her life overall. It gave her a sort of… revelation.
But he was right, she couldn’t do it on her own. Yes, she had her Aunt, but even then, her support only came when it was Feral Nova related issues. Personal issues? Na, wasn’t her thing. She looked over at Brian as she watched him pull out his phone. She couldn’t help but give an amused huff as she smiled. “Mr. Brian Newcastle.” She began with formality. “Will you do me the honor,” she reached for her phone that had been stuffed in the pocket of her pants. “Of being my first cookie buddy here in Valor City?” She gave a smile as she handed him her phone (which totally was not a phone made by his company), after unlocking it and opening her contact listing so he could input his number as she held out her other hand to place her own number in his phone.
“I’m also happy to help, with whatever it is I can help with.” Zoe was always one to help if she could. But Los Angeles always made her feel that they didn't want her help. Hopefully things would be different here. “If I’m going to make Valor City my home, I need them to know that I’m here not just for selfish reasons. I’m here to give what I can to the city.”
"Through the best of times! Through the worst of times! I accept, Zoe." Brian raised his hands to the sky and spoke with musical whimsy. His spirit felt lifted as he took the phone and saved dialed his number. It was an average act, but he couldn't help himself. It wasn't like he met heroes everyday. The last one he encountered, Hawkshade, abandoned Grimm City shortly after the disaster. Ashley Knightfall was always out of reach. Then there was the case of Alana Callahan, whose comatose state was being reviewed by the Legacy sisters.
"Listen, I'm not expecting you to be some full-fledged hero to this community." The Valor veteran lied through his Colgate sponsored smile. He had every intention of developing the city's heroic population. His sole goal was creating a force capable of fighting back another terrorist attack. It's why he developed the L.A.W. program, it's why he even bothers to finance the local university, because Brian Newcastle intends to create the safest city in the country. For Brian, the only way to make that happen was creating inspiration beyond himself.
"I just want for you what I want for everyone in this city. The chance to be someone better than what you were before." Brian always spoke his truth despite the actions he took to reaffirm those words. The Grid only gave him pieces of Feral Nova's troubled past, but it was just enough to comfort those insecurities. Finding her was a happy coincidence. One that he wouldn't let slip through his fingertips.
"When you're situated just hit me up, okay? I'm sure you might see me around. One way or another." He cracked a laugh, because across the street, he could see a billboard of the Time's Magazine he covered. Inside that issue was an open-ended piece he wrote about the Valor City's recovery, growth and his hopes for its' future.
The Newcastle Legacy was a bit of a celebrity around these parts. A polarizing political figure, considering who his father was. It was a difficult process, the constant fight for approval. In spite of it all, however, Brian still found a way to enjoy his life. He hoped to share that same kind of enjoyment with Zoe, right now.
"Before I go, can we take a pic? You gotta promise me...you won't post it though." If she accepted, Brian would hold Zoe's phone out with his right arm, smiling from ear to ear while he used his left hand to raise a peace sign behind her head. "I'm not looking too great today."
Nothing's come easy in the last couple of months. Every iota of his being has been poured into the city's infrastructure. Whether it was Ashley Knightfall's hospital, Tiffany T-Rex's arrest or Valor City's unveiling. Dominus International used their main spokesperson for just about everything. He was overwhelmed to say the least. So much so, he'd found himself downing two salted glasses of tequila and he was now working on his third.
"Yes, yes, yes. I'm BRIAN MADDOX....I mean Newcastle. Whatever you wanna call me." He was a bubbly drunk whenever he drank liquor. From the depths of self-doubt and anxiety, the real son of Valor came about. His posture was looser than usual. He looked unkempt with messily brushed hair and an unbuttoned shirt, but he looked happier than his board had ever seen.
"I've got a lot to celebrate, y'know?" Brian wasn't lying. Recent reports considered Valor City being astronomically safer than it was two years ago. Grimm City was starting to become a vague memory around the neighborhood and he couldn't be prouder. Years of work was starting to pay off, but here he was. Drinking alone.
"The power of Valor! Am I right?" Despite his best efforts to befriend the bartender, the closest thing to conversation he got out of her was a question about seeing his bare chest. Brian must have obliged at some point, considering the white tank top underneath his dress shirt was exposed.
"Yes, you're supposed to say yes." He let out an awkward laugh before looking around the room to fixate his attention elsewhere. Brian couldn't be bothered by the looking and the gawking from everyone around him. His community had a very bad habit of treating him like an object instead of the human he's always been.
"Is there...is there no one around to talk?" Brian was a bit embarrassed by his predicted. He didn't have any friends. Danny was dead and Whitaker was in a coma. As for Castillo and Crews, well he hadn't heard from them since the Force's disbandment. As he was deep in thought, his eyebrows knitted together as he concentrated on the red A-X phone resting beside his crossed forearms.
"Maybe, someone else will?"In act of spontaneity, Brian lifted up his phone and unlocked it.
"Grid, please text @rosso and ask her if she's available to meet."
It all seemed like a blurry dream, past memories, possibilities, the fades in and fades out. Never a present situation to grasp on to, never a strong foundation to stand upon.
Past FORCE memories ringed in his head, the chaos all around them as they operated in it. Chaotic Order was the only way the team could possibly be described, strong individuals with unusual characteristics and demons, but Order nonetheless.
and just like that again he drifted out of the memory.
Then there Michael sat on the couch watching the TV, cradling a small child, his child. He looked to his left and there sat on his phone, another one of his. He smiled watching the TV, holding dearly onto the one in his arms, then a car alarm went off signaling someone locking it. He heard the jingling of keys and then the opening of the door, and a woman walked through the doorway. To another person, she might be considered average, but to Michael at the moment, a goddess. "How are my favorite three men doing?"
and just as Michael was about to answer he once again fell out of a possibility.
Another vision came too in between all of this.
It was Brian, sitting right beside him, speaking.
"Is it wrong that I-I miss it....." Brian grabbed Whitaker's hand as he laid there trying to move, trying to speak to Brian himself, but nothing came out.
"I'm sorry...." Brian finished.
Once again Whitaker was taken from the moment as if it was right for him.
Blackness surrounded him once again until it didn't.
Whitaker awoke struggling to breathe, it felt like something was inside him, suffocating him. Alarms began to ring around him, "Where was he?" His eyes finally lifted, and he began to look around the room, still trying to catch his breath.
He was in a small room, laying in some kind of hospital bed. "How did he get here?" Just then a woman rushed into the room. "HE'S AWAKE!" She screamed, "LET HIM KNOW HE'S AWAKE!" Her voice dropped in volume immensely as she eased closer to Whitaker, "Easy there, easy." Before Whitaker knew it was drifting away again. This time was different though, it felt to him as though he was in control at that moment, not like the others where it felt as though he was living in a simulation almost.
Whitaker drifted back to sleep with the help of some anesthesia, so that the medical staff could remove the ventilator that had assisted him those six months since the incident. "Is he on his way?" one woman said. "Of course you think after all those visits, he wasn't going to be here when he fully wakes up."
Kellan. She looked at her brother like she'd seen a ghost. That's how he appeared to her. Not entirely corporeal, not entirely real, as if he were there but only on the fringes. Her knees buckled under her light weight and she collapsed against his side, as a tugging pulled at the edges of her brain. A hazy fog followed by a stabbing pain shot through, and her eyes glazed over for just a moment., before the pain simmered and dispersed.
She shoved a shaking hand through her hair. What had once been a deep, rich red, had now grown out with five inches of pure platinum blonde roots. Her deep emerald green eyes met Kellan's as she silently mouthed his name. There was something distant in touch, and a grim urgency in his voice that raised all of her red flags. The fact that he and Richard hadn't both been here was enough of one on its own.
Tessa collapsed against Kellan as soon as they reached their destination, and forced her eyes open. Her body was walking a tightrope between being primed and ready to fight and still being shaky and unwieldy. "What the hell is going on?" Every word was a struggle and her voice was hoarse from months of disuse. "How long was I out? Where are we?" She fought to get the words out, as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder and breathed deep, not thinking twice. Kellan could be distant and remote, but he was always there when she needed him, or at least he always had been.
She laughed as she watched him input his number in her phone. He acted as if she was a celebrity of sorts, but Zoe was far from one. A visual sigh of relief was seen from her. “I’m glad you said that, I wasn’t coming here to rebuild myself as a hero. But if the city needs me, I’m here. And I will definitely be in contact with you once I made my full move.”
Then he asked for a picture and Zoe couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. “Of course Brian.” She gave a nod of her head as she leaned in a little closer to him, giving a thumbs up as she broke out into a smile. As the picture was taken and he gave her back her phone she laughed, approving of the photo as she then opened up her texts and sent a quick 'Cookie buddy' with a cookie emoji so he could get her number in that moment.
She stood up, picking up her bag in the box that held her cookies with one hand as she extended the other to Brian. "It was great meeting you Brian, I can't wait to work with you in the future, and eat tons of cookies."
Nothing's come easy in the last couple of months. Every iota of his being has been poured into the city's infrastructure. Whether it was Ashley Knightfall's hospital, Tiffany T-Rex's arrest or Valor City's unveiling. Dominus International used their main spokesperson for just about everything. He was overwhelmed to say the least. So much so, he'd found himself downing two salted glasses of tequila and he was now working on his third.
"Yes, yes, yes. I'm BRIAN MADDOX....I mean Newcastle. Whatever you wanna call me." He was a bubbly drunk whenever he drank liquor. From the depths of self-doubt and anxiety, the real son of Valor came about. His posture was looser than usual. He looked unkempt with messily brushed hair and an unbuttoned shirt, but he looked happier than his board had ever seen.
"I've got a lot to celebrate, y'know?" Brian wasn't lying. Recent reports considered Valor City being astronomically safer than it was two years ago. Grimm City was starting to become a vague memory around the neighborhood and he couldn't be prouder. Years of work was starting to pay off, but here he was. Drinking alone.
"The power of Valor! Am I right?" Despite his best efforts to befriend the bartender, the closest thing to conversation he got out of her was a question about seeing his bare chest. Brian must have obliged at some point, considering the white tank top underneath his dress shirt was exposed.
"Yes, you're supposed to say yes." He let out an awkward laugh before looking around the room to fixate his attention elsewhere. Brian couldn't be bothered by the looking and the gawking from everyone around him. His community had a very bad habit of treating him like an object instead of the human he's always been.
"Is there...is there no one around to talk?" Brian was a bit embarrassed by his predicted. He didn't have any friends. Danny was dead and Whitaker was in a coma. As for Castillo and Crews, well he hadn't heard from them since the Force's disbandment. As he was deep in thought, his eyebrows knitted together as he concentrated on the red A-X phone resting beside his crossed forearms.
"Maybe, someone else will?"In act of spontaneity, Brian lifted up his phone and unlocked it.
"Grid, please text @rosso and ask her if she's available to meet."
~20 minutes later
Elsewhere in the establishment a fight broke out, shortly heralded by a raised voice and a slew of slurred profanities. Two men crashed through the restroom door, spilling into the sea of bodies which parted for them with a chorus of gasps and discordant exclamations. Some poor, wide-eyed and scrawny soul had apparently run afoul of a copatron many weight classes above him, and was paying the price with his jawline.
It'd take a lot to draw attention away from Brian Newcastle, especially in Valor of all places - people needed to feel they had to react, that their own safety could be compromised if they didn't pay close attention and steer clear of the brawl one-sided beatdown. It'd taken a lot to convince Franklin to take his part in the assignment. And it'd taken a lot – nearly all – of the funds Valentina had left, his rate increasing ever more, the more damage he took. He'd be fine - the relevant authorities were probably on site and would be quick to respond to a disturbance in the same locale as the city's premier figurehead. Besides, he was getting paid whether Newcastle's call was a business call or not.
But while the public's attention was focused in another direction the viper struck, ready to redirect Brian's attention where it should've been—on her.
"You know," came the assassin's voice from only a few feet away, "it's not unlikely that you still have many powerful enemies, including those within this city. And you are extremely visible. I hope, for your sake, the 'helpless alcoholic' thing is an act"—posting up beside him but without visibly acknowledging his presence directly—"and you actually mean something by this, instead of an actual drunken...'booty call?'"
True to these words, "Rosso" had come fully dressed, and armed, though the latter would not be apparent at first glance. Her features were noticeably gaunt compared to meetings previous, and nearly every inch of her body was covered from the jersey knit turtleneck to her 3-inch heels. Her expression, dry; tone, irritable but with the veneer of one trying to appear mildly playful.
"But whichever the case may be, you can at least buy me a drink or several to make me more amenable."
"Jesus Christ,"Brian muttered to himself as he descended the staircase leading into the Newcastle Plaza. His earthy green eyes fluttered when the flashing screens above him flickered with advertisements. One advertisement included his face, the more clean shaven version, for an orientation assembly in fifteen minutes. It was a lot to take in. So much so, the Grid responded to the stimuli by manifesting a holographic visor over his eyes to protect his line of sight.
"This is crazy." The mental adjustment, however, to the enormity of people bustling throughout the university would take a moment for Brian. Although he was told enrollment numbers exceeded expectations, the data on his A-X phone couldn't compare to real life.
The kind of joy in his heart couldn't be replicated. His hands tingle like a static television screen. The numbness in his body is momentary, but Brian does disassociate for those few seconds. He doesn't feel real. Beneath his holographic visor, his face is rose tinted as he holds back his excitement in hopes of maintaining his composure.
"Right this way, Mister Newcastle." Brian was flanked by four L.A.W. operatives, the usual Dominus International security detail. They were dressed in civilian clothes, but their demeanor always came across militant. The L.A.W. was a small task force similar to the Force. They were designed to support local authorities as a last ditch resort to meta human threats. So, their appearance always drew concerned looks from any crowd. It's why Brian insisted they wear civilians clothes.
"Of course. Appreciate the look out." His heart beat picked up its pace when the two operatives in front of him opened the doors to the auditorium. As Brian walked through the door and down the aisle, he took a deep breath as he adjusted the cufflinks on his beige blazer. He was dressed as dapper as someone of stature should. His sandy brown hair was combed and gently parted with gel. His beard was lightly trimmed and connected with his sideburns which gave him a more complete look. His white polo shirt was unbuttoned to make him appear more relaxed and casual than he felt.
"Are you okay, Mister Newcastle?" Situated atop the auditorium stage was the Dean of Students, Danielle Marionette. She wasn't aware of the anxiety her contemporary struggled with so his behavior concerned her.
"I hope you're not thinking of backing out of our first orientation, Mister Newcastle. A lot is riding on this." Danielle was an MIT graduate who coded and developed the Hero HMU, a social network app for public heroes and their fan bases. It was a success story that caught the eye of the Dominus International CEO. Even though she was a difficult acquisition, considering she denied his request to work for the Dominus International technology division, Danielle did jump at the chance to help facilitate the next generation of Valor.
"Our community has been looking forward to speaking to you." Danielle was around during the Grimm days and even dated Brian in grammar school, but dumped him when she found him eating lunch at Marissa's Doughnut and Pastry Shop with another girl. It's been more than a decade since that betrayal, but Danielle has always considered her ex-boyfriend to be good trouble. The double entendre wasn't lost on her.
"No, no, of course not. I'm ready for whatever, Miss Marionette." With such a huge number of students, orientation was being billed as a week long event. Various leaders within the community were scheduled to lead their own session for each day of the week. Brian was given top billing and considering how difficult it was to lock him down, seating randomly chosen by the Grid algorithm. Students randomly selected would receive an email requesting their mandatory attendance.
"I'm looking forward to meeting the future of Valor City."
"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, Alana." For once, Brian wanted to do something the right way. After reviewing schematics for the cybernetic prosthetic arm he requested, Brian pushed the paperwork to the edges of his desk.
"We can't treat him like a toy. This is a man's life we're talking about." He was conflicted. Despite going to the ends of the earth to acquire the metal known as adamantine, Brian was hesitant to use the material on a human subject, especially the comatose @detective_whitaker. He felt inhumane just thinking about it. His ex-partner wasn't able to consent to the project and months of telepathic therapy proved useless.
"Indecisiveness will get us nowhere, Brian. We can't let another project fail." She was right. Their last subject, Tessa Callahan proved telepathic conditioning had potential, but recent tests with her blood lead the medical division nowhere. First A.I.D. Labs needed a win for the Dominus International board, especially Jonathan Zeraz. He influence over the board was considerable. The Legacy sisters were just that, Jonathan's legacy. Three of the brightest minds tasked with ensuring Brian's success.
"I'm sorry, Alana. What if he rejects the treatment? What if he uses it against us..." Alana knew what he was getting at. The Grimm attack still haunted the would be hero. The act of washing Whitaker's blood off his face was traumatic, but the telepathic manipulation that created that scenario haunted him even more. Brian hated the feeling, but it didn't stop him from visiting Whitaker's bedside every week.
"We can't imagine what his mind----"
"HE'S AWAKE!!" Much to the shock of Brian and Alana, a medical staffer slammed his office door open. As the medical staffer feverishly panted while trying to catch their breath, Alana's eyes illuminated as she lifted her hands up. The staffer dropped to the ground as she telepathically controlled his bodily functions.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Zeraz. I'm so sorry. We tried calling, but Mister Newcastle is offline." Brian signaled for Alana to let go of his employee. He was right. Brian always disconnected from the Grid whenever he stepped inside his main office. It was his private time. The urgency in the man's voice told the Newcastle legacy enough. Whitaker was awake. He was ambivalent to confront this reality, but he knew he had to.
"Thanks for letting me know, Alex. Next time, try not to demolish my door." Brian stood up and walked around his desk, extending his hand out to help his medical staffer back onto his feet. Any fear the young man might have had about his future was gone the moment Brian patted his shoulder and smiled.
"Alana, follow my lead. If Whitaker attacks, we're gonna have to calm him down. Help him focus." Brian wasn't sure what time of reception he'd get when he arrived at the medical division. It took a few minutes for him to reach the floor and when he exited the elevator, he could see the commotion of staffers watching Whitaker with awe.
"Everyone who isn't assigned this case needs to leave. Move aside." Brian didn't look nosy company. Much of the staff dispersed the very second they realized Alana was trailing behind him. The Legacy sisters had a reputation of inciting fear in much of the First A.I.D. Labs staff. Careers could be started or ended with just once of their glances...let alone three.
"Hey, Whitaker. It's me. Your friend. Your partner." From his back jean pocket, the former Force detective took out an old picture of the two at a bar. In the picture, Detective Crews could be seen messing with Brian's hair as Whitaker watched with slight amusement.
"You see, we know each other. You're safe here. You're safe." If Whitaker reacted negatively, Brian and Alana would attempt to telepathically sedate the detective before entering his mind. They needed to know what memories of Brian still existed...and which ones they could potentially exploit.
From the moment his eyes opened again, he could feel their presence. The numerous people surrounding the doorway to his room. He could hear their whispers, all bundled up together speaking about him. It was somewhat overwhelming, one minute his fading in and out of scenarios playing his emotions like an instrument and the next moment he's here in a bed, feeling cold as he's studied like an animal in a cage who had just woken up from their daily nap for all the children to see.
It made him glad that they didn't have anything in their hands as they stood outside because the feeling made him sure that if they had sticks they would prod him, if they had popcorn or treats of some sort they would try to make him dance, and if they had guns, luckily they don't have guns. Obviously, those imaginations were just that imaginations of this feeling and scenario overwhelming the newly awoken Whitaker.
He tried to calm himself down, by first figuring out where he was at and who were these people. He looked at his right bedside towards the edge of the bed and the people who found themselves outside of his room. The bed was an easy hint, the white railing along it was for safety to prevent anyone inside them from falling or moving too much. It was a hospital bed, Michael had spent plenty of times in them, especially during his FORCE years to know that much, and the people he could only guess from their similar uniforms and things in their hands were medical staff. The monitors above his head were silent, but they were working keeping track of him, making sure he was constant and safe.
"I'm in a hospital." He thought to himself, "Why?" He questioned right back to himself.
He finally got the courage to get up from out of the bed. He began to remove the covers, but every time he tried to grab them with his left hand, he couldn't. "Maybe it's some medication." He tried to grab his left hand with his right to try and get feeling back to it through assisted movement, but it was useless. He couldn't feel his left hand with his right. He looked down making sure he wasn't just imagining the lack of feeling. He checked his right hand first, opened a fist in front of his eyes, and then closed it. It was there, but as he looked to his where his left hand should be, it was gone, but it didn't stop there. It wasn't just his hand. He tried following from where his left hand felt like it was, but his forearm was missing and so was his upper arm.
He threw the covers off with his right hand and got up in a hurry, which then caused the whispers to get louder, did he hear a shriek? were they scared of him? What did he do? Why is his arm missing?
Focus. What do I know? I'm missing a FUDGING arm!
Is everything else fine?
Whitaker began feeling his body
Not too fast you don't want to frighten them more.
His movement became less erratic as he searched around his body. It was all there.
Any facial or head trauma?
He felt his face to his surprise, he had a beard and his hair was longer.
No trauma, but I have a beard and longer hair. Possible memory loss. It's possible I've been here for a long time, explains the group outside trying to decipher every move of mine.
He opened the blinds to the room slowly, still not trying to frighten them more.
What could I have done to make them fear--
Whitaker's eyes gazed down at the city, and it looked familiar to him but brighter. As if it had awoken from when he remembered it.
That's when he heard different kind of movement outside of his room, a more direct set of steps heading closer to his room. He kept facing the window, they were coming whether he liked it or not and there wasn't much he could do to prepare for them, so why try to.
"Everyone who isn't assigned this case needs to leave. Move aside." One set of the footsteps commanded, his voice was familiar which at the time to Michael felt comforting. He was also somebody of power and/or respect because the swarm of medical staff dispersed quickly and quietly.
"Hey, Whitaker. It's me. Your friend. Your partner."
Whitaker turned around to see a very familiar face handing him a picture of a previous memory. A previous life it felt like.
The picture was of Agent Crews messing with Brian's hair while Whitaker was slightly showing his amusement, but actually losing it on the inside.
"We had just gotten off a crazy case that day," Whitaker replied as if he was speaking to Brian's company, a woman, "It was a real hard case, one of those cases partners talk about until their death bed when they reunite, and Crews," Whitaker pointed to the woman, "couldn't believe Brian's hair was still looking good, to the point where she began ranting and then decided the only logical reaction was to mess up his hair to make them even. On what? who knows, but damn did she follow through. His hair was so wacky, I thought his hair was never going to be the same." Whitaker smiled just as he was in the picture before he handed it to the woman so that she herself could analyze it and try to relive the story knowing Whitaker's memory of it.
"You see, we know each other. You're safe here. You're safe."
"I can see that Brian," He said as he took a seat on the hospital bed.
A slight lull in all of it and then,
"But why am I here?" He stood up again never fully getting to rest on the bed.
"Why is my arm missing?" His voice was getting higher with each sentence.
"And why in the hell were those people outside whispering and staring at me as though I'm a caged animal, who they fear, but not enough to discuss me while also being near me?
Zoe ran through the campus as she was running late to the mandatory orientation yelling ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ every time she bumped into someone. While some students did a double take (realizing who she was) others simply mumbled as she kept running. The university was filled with so much life, it was crazy. Students of all ages were either walking to their classes or just hanging out and socializing with other students. Even some of the professors could be seen taking a stroll.
But she didn’t have time to enjoy her surroundings, she was running late!
She hadn’t officially moved in to Valor City yet, as she was waiting for her contract on her apartment to finally end before she made the move. So she would simply fly to the city for classes, which wasn’t horrible and she was usually always on time, but today? She woke up late after staying up late while taking with Cat on the phone (even though Cat told her numerous times to go to bed). So now… here she was.
Finally reaching the area Zoe looked down at the email she got as she realized that there was an assigned seating arrangement. Well… dang it there goes just chilling in the back. It seemed that the orientation hadn’t started just yet as someone was just beginning to take the stage. She stumbled around for a moment until, THERE! She found her seat! With a few more ‘excuse me’ she finally reached her seat, plopping down as she let out a heavy sigh, relaxing for a second before she had to shift her attention to the speaker.
What limit dared impose itself on a soldier's determination? The question haunted Bastian day and night, for he was a soldier. A super soldier from a future more distant than it was near. He was the ultimate culmination of science and nature, and a man driven by duty. Mankind's future depended on it. Though while he championed the survival, prosperity and self-determination of man, another stepped from the shadows to make sure man's future'd be as torn by war as the timeline Bastian called home. And she stood in the shadows of an empty warehouse, her ivory face catching the dim glow of a flickering computer screen. The white of her grin flashed something sinister, and her eyes drank in every bit of information.
She was a datakinetic, her brain a living market for those in search of rare and invaluable information. And now, she'd stored the space-time coordinates to a dimensional rift. One that led to a non-Einsteinian universe where energies strange and powerful lie ready to be claimed. And she'd sell the coordinates to the Abyssal Imperium, trading safety and security for cosmic riches. She'd doom them all lest the Black Baron intervene.
And intervene he did.
Like a silent wind, he swept in, teleporting behind her with a shotgun thrumming for carnage.
The Vindicator. It fired large metal flechettes, kinetically charged and made of vibranium. It tore her skull apart. Painted the floor in red strokes of blood and gore, and made a butcher's mess of her brain. The irony scent of blood sat heavy in the air, and the silver sheen of his Trion arm glimmered as he neared the computer screen. Stepping over her body as the blood flowed like a stream of liquid rubies, the Black Baron glanced at the computer screen with a wolf's focus.
She'd been tasked with capturing his lover and partner - Ren. But by who? He intended to find out. Bastian seized the computer and left as abruptly as he came.
The deed was done, the first of Ada's task was completed, the Forbidden Book, "How to Kill a God" for the first time in its cosmic history was in the hand of a mortal.
The Poetic Assassin descended the stairs of the cathedral flanked by hired mercenaries with the Cosmic book in hand. Like always, their eyes latch on to her figure the moment she entered the room.
Each step into their inner sanctum purposeful, she wanted them to bask in another one of the horsewoman's victories. But the book was only the beginning before the Order ushered in an era of Balance throughout the Universe, no, the multiverse. Before she unraveled the secrets of the cosmic ledger, she wanted to deliver a surgical strike to the "Authority" in Valor. None of the other members knew it, but Ada had seized control of the Fraternity, the branch of the order that made decisions. She then took those decisions back to the II Klabb and executed her own plans of action; making her the judge and the jury. Ada along with her partner, Amin Karrit was unlike any of the other II Klabb members, the two of them could go for months without correspondence and still be perfectly in sync with one another.
In the aftermath of Grimm City, they became complacent and careless. Convinced that their flashy new city would provide solace to those that remembered the tragedy of Grimm. The laws would fail them, the police would cower, and in the aftermath, there would be a fabricated order--The Order.
"You all look well, tonight we begin Phase 2. Brian Newcastle has created this city unknowingly, for us; now it's time we take command." Ada the French-born Jew explained with the pale and cold moon shining through the cathedral art. Around the table sat some of the Order's most esteemed members, all dangerous in their own right; but the glue that kept this tumultuous bunch together was the Poetic Assassin.
"Royce, Jameela, your time has come. Go Forth and do the order's work"
The Lonely Shepard - The Mayor's Mansion
In just a few short months the historic first election of Valor City was poised to take place. The Incumbent, Mayor Herald Boss, saw the destruction of Grimm and was kept on to maintain the stability in Valor. Though in the city's rise, he lost credibility due to the popularity of city savior Brian Newcastle; he was still a shoo-in to win by a landslide. The other candidates stood virtually no chance, even if they could match the campaign contributions of Boss; they'd never appeal to the public like him--he had to be terminated.
"The Lonely Shepard" Jameela Sircar was the daughter of an English banker, officially she was the "Horsewoman" of False Flag events, however, she was also well-versed in political instability. Nicknamed "Lonely Shepard" because of her ability to "guide sheep to the slaughter" She did her job so well, she was once considered to be the best member of the Order--until Ada arrived.
Mayor Boss opened the mansion to many of Valor City's more prominent citizens in an attempt to gain more money to fund his campaign.
Preston Druitt, the CEO of Prestige Trust Investment bank and member of the fraternity, was able to secure Sircar's name on the guest list. He was a friend of her father's and understood what was going on. Needless to say, he intended to make his stay short.
Perusing through the handful of esteemed guest Sircar eavesdropped on various topics of discussion ranging from Taxes to the use of Utility Androids and Gothic. Intel gathering she could use these as stances to conjure an unstable climate that her candidate could use as fuel.
Throughout the entire party, Jameela strategically kept her body facing the entrance. She wanted to know who was coming through the door at all times, She and Druitt needed to exit in a timely manner to escape the calamity to come.
After a couple of hours, Mayor Boss took to the podium to begin a speech, that's when she saw the man walk in. Dressed in a black pin-striped suit, a man about 5'11 with long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and scruffy beard stormed in and begin opening fire. His first target Amy Shelstrop, a hired cater for the event; and his ex-girlfriend. Then next a string of completely unrelated targets. It didn't take long before the security on scene took the man down with two shots to the chest leaving him alive long enough to wonder how he'd been shot--alive long enough to know he was dying.
Though he'd never actually pointed his gun at Mayor Boss, he was dead too. At the moment no one could care to ask questions, but superior forensics would deduce that he was shot by another killer. In the pandemonium of the ordeal, both Druitt and Sircar slipped out with the fearful masses--by why Amy Shelstrop?
"The Summertime Mercenary" - Valor Port
Royce stood with her hands folded as her mercenaries moved through the Docks firing indiscriminately on anyone on shift. The sporadic sound of gunfire did little to break the focus of the Blonde Mercenary if anything it added a much-needed beat to a rather boring night.
Royce was the Order's horsewoman of War Mongering, she was usually tasked with arming rebels, insurgencies and other outlaw regimes putting them against the armies modern world. Because the Order was spread thin tonight, she was to oversee this specific part of phase two. Because L.A.W had most of the city on constant surveillance, it'd be damn near impossible for Royce to smuggle weapons into Valor City. With this facility down and an election on the horizon not only could the order post themselves in the center of Valor politics, but also in commerce.
Despite its golden exterior, the Valor City narrative was often written by the well off, the former citizens of Grimm that were poor before the city change living conditions didn't improve in the transformation. In addition to appealing to the poor Valor City natives, Royce was poised to appeal to the Gothic refugee's those that stayed in the aftermath of the Gothic city attack. In line with championing a mayor, The Order sought to cause dissent between the different financial classes with taxes, and expose the different regional norms. The crime was a norm in Gothic City--and it'd soon be a norm in Valor too.
Shaking off the deep thought, she could hear resistance from afar--L.A.W. Dropping a black egg the Summertime Mercenary disappeared before she could be apprehended. Her part in this phase done--for now.
The Machine Matriarch - H.I.V.E HQ
They'd been unchecked in the city since the announcement of the Utility Androids, dozens of homes throughout Valor housed an android. H.I.V.E's stock in the city skyrocketed especially after newer models were produced to help with construction and other tedious tasks. The actual number of society androids in circulation nearly doubled their entire population, which was the point.
Zedora was poised to be a savior for big business, that is until she saw the message from Amy Shelstrop. The message from the caterer saw her hack CCTV feeds and discover the location of The Order's hideout, naturally, Zedora informed her partners who then informed The Poetic Assassin. Ada of the Order and Zedora of the 3rd Society then brokered a partnership between them. A hidden deal to fracture the Valor City landscape in order for autonomy within the Order's "New Valor"
The first step was easy, hard for the average being; but easy enough for technological savant like Zedora. It came at the expense of Prestige Trust, the Investment bank. She'd corrupted the banks' system forging numbers, changing numbers and relaxing PTI's credit standards leading to a wide pool of homeowners, owners that didn't deserve their homes. It was a huge change, a fixable one; but potent enough to free the Valor City economy for a spell--just long enough for its citizens to blame this on lack of Jobs, Gothic Refugee's, Taxes and Androids.
There was one final part for the Synthetic Siren-conflict.
On Zedora's command, Utility Androids in H.I.V.E stores all across the city begin to suddenly deviate, becoming aware. On their own, they were harmless able to discern right from wrong, however, under the influence of The Matriarch herself their processor's yield to her will. In an attempt to further disrupt L.A.W operations throughout the night, a portion of the Androids begin to attack their owners, others ran away to hide simply because they were aware. Tonight was the night that the 3rd Society mix with Human and Mutant. Because she couldn't be killed in the traditional sense, the Matriarch of the Machine Empire lead the rally in Honor Valley Park to take a portion of the city from back from the humans.
"Don't make it obvious, but is that Mayor Boss?" With jet black hair and a seemingly aloof expression, Justine Love sipped from her champagne glass. Despite appearances, however, the 25-year-old Spanish born actress was deeply if not obsessively committed to her role as Clarice Michelle Pierce in HBO Film's upcoming biographical film "Closure." It was set to follow the life, death and revival of the infamous politician.
There are two ways to study an actual person. One is to read articles online and the other is to experience their life firsthand. Justine had chosen the latter. This was her first time being acquainted with the likes of Valor's Mayor Boss, but she once read he was a classmate of Miss Pierce's. The pair used to study political science and even worked together often in college. So, when his staff extended an invitation to her agency, the young starlet welcomed the opportunity.
"I hope he's got home insurance." There was just one problem, Justine wasn't feeling as comfortable as she hoped to be. To her one million Hero HMU followers, Hollywood's latest "It" girl was known for having an intuition for danger. She could just tell when something bad was going to happen, like the time she lost the Golden Globe for best supporting actress to that one-hit wonder Valeria Hutchinson. She only ever attended award shows if she was going to win.
"Oh wow, I didn't mean to keep you long. Thanks for the drink. Amy, was it? I'd leave now if I were you." Her brown eyes glistened like copper underneath the lights, but it was difficult to enjoy the sight as they kept perusing the room. Justine came across slightly unsettled, almost bracing herself for something to happen...and eventually it would.
Until it happened, however, she enjoyed the little time she had left. With her champagne glass in hand, Justine approached Mayor Boss. Politicians never ignored a photo op with celebrities. Nowadays, they practically determined who'd sit in office. A cheap smile, cleverly worded caption and boom the Mayor Boss would have more campaign volunteers than his team could ever hope for.
"Thank you, Miss Love. Such a sweet name. Surprised to see someone so sweet playing Clarice, but movie magic. Am I right? Makes me wonder who's playing me? You wouldn't happen to have an idea, who that'd be...now would you?" Although their encounter wasn't long, it did serve its' purpose. His behavior informed the Hollywood actress about the kind of men the young Clarice Michelle must've dealt with.
Mayor Boss came across a bit pretentious. Justine would liken his attitude to a high school football player who discovered his brain eighteen years too late. He was heavily reliant on his charm and likability. It must've been why no questioned the way his hand lingered on her shoulder.
Regardless, Justine played along. She acted playfully enamored as he yammered on and on about why his work was more important than whatever Brian Newcastle was doing. All she could hear, however, was a bunch of men in suits arguing about who could do better for this city. Did anyone even bother to ask the people themselves. Justine hadn't a clue. She was only in Valor to study her role and the stench of elitism was ruining her mood.
"No, no, not at all. Casting is still happening, but you shouldn't thank me, Mayor Boss. I should really be thanking you." He looks full of himself. He doesn't have enough humility to dismiss her claim, but what Mayor Boss doesn't know was that Justine had every intention to post their photo with the deepest condolences to his family following his confirmed death. It's the kind of publicity that couldn't be ignored. Starlet actress surviving political homicide would get her an appearance on the Tonight Show in no time.
Now, was it terribly indecent to use tragedy to propel her own career? Yes, but it took a lot of effort to stay relevant ever since homeland terrorists attacks started trending. She learned that bit of sage advice from Clarice Michelle herself. She starting to leave a great impression on the visiting starlet. So much so, Justine took out her phone and dialed Miss Pierce's number as she walked down the mansion staircase leading to the valet and her crimson Maserati.
"Hey, girly. It's me, Justine. Yeah, yeah, I just left the event. No, it wasn't boring. If it's got free drinks it's for me. Y'know what I'm saying!?" In the distance, rounds of gun shots can be heard. The valet frantically dropped her keys at the foot of heel. Justine kneels down enough to grab the keys, phone pressed against her cheek as laughed a bit with her newest friend.
"Hold on," She looks back for just a second. The hairs on her forearms stand as she can taste the splattered blood on the mansion floor. She's not there, but bloodshed had this way of calling her name. It took everything inside of her not to go back inside.
"I do have to spill some tea. Now you didn't hear this from me, but I think some shit's about to go down. Mayor Boss has permanently left the race if you can catch my drift." Justine Love was the daughter of Ernesto Love, long-time hitman for the Grimm City mob. She knew a staged hit when she saw one. It's why she left ten minutes before the party really started. Situating herself inside her car, Justine adjusted the mirror and waited until her bloodshot eyes faded. The scent of blood was difficult to resist, but she refused to involve herself with whatever mess the city had found itself in. She lost much of her family during the previous crisis. She didn't intend to participate in this one.
"Anyways, I gotta go. Talk to you later, babe. Kisses!" As she slid the car key into the ignition, in the faint distance she could see the masses pouring from the scene of the crime. Had she been on the phone that long, she thought. Either way, the Hollywood beau pressed her foot on the gas. It was better to have dodged the crisis than to have experienced it. She couldn't afford a pretend stint at a mental rehab center....she wasn't THAT desperate for attention.
Lionel walked about aimlessly for a short while. A crimson car zoomed past as he found his way to the port. He was still getting used to living in the new universe. What he knew wasn't what he saw anymore. In fact, the new universe carried around this scent like someone had sprayed Lysol over a carpet stain. Always one for cleanliness, Lionel blotted his nose with the handkerchief from his suit pocket. Despite his reservations, Lionel had convinced himself to work through the nauseating circumstances that came with living here.
"I can feel the energy here. I swear something's off. I just can't place it." The Valor Port was located in the Ever After borough of Valor City. The Baptiste brothers owned a shop near the port. A bunch of wickedly mystical trinkets and ancient books from their shop had a habit of being smuggled around the borough. In turn, much of the community itself was either glamoured creatures of the night or some hipsters transplanting themselves for the Valor City's bohemian aesthetic. With so many diverging groups, leadership in Valor was difficult.
Brian Newcastle funding community schooling was meant to help the underprivileged, but then the gentrification happened. The rich families of Grimm brought even more outside investors into the city. They planted their roots into the foundation and began taking the opportunities from those they were originally meant for. Leaving those affected by the disaster festering with rage against the machine, wondering why they weren't seen.
Lionel could feel strife. He could sense the darkness within anyone and Valor nursed its grudges like breastfed child. What might have started off with a number of good intentions was quickly becoming perverted. The city felt manipulated and the least bit helped.
Lionel believed this had much to do with the dark force brought into the city by Ada Guillaume. The same dark force that haunted his mother was still here in the city...he knew it. He just had to prove it.
"Holy Mother. I was right." As he walked closer to the water, Lionel could sense a chaotic energy crackling in the distance. The sound of gunfire drew him closer and closer. The chaos, the misery and the reawakened fears that could barely sleep had finally returned to Valor City. If he could fly across the waters and arrive as the saving grace, the lionhearted Olympian would. Alas, he could not.
Instead he ran as fast he could. When he arrived to the epicenter, however, Lionel was met by a group of L.A.W. enforcers instead. Their connection to Dominus International's Grid and by extension the Humanity Now Institute's data base would inform them he wasn't a mutant nor human. His biology was something else entirely. As with such information coupled with humanity's poor reception to the unknown, the security force raised their weapons in his direction. It was better to assume he was guilty by the frantic running he'd been doing for the last few minutes.
The Academy
"Oh crap!!!!!!" With his astral projection disappeared, Lionel returned to his physical form states away. As he gasped for air, he clutched a pamphlet he'd stolen from the All-Seer Realm some time ago. A virtuoso of the mystic arts, Lionel was attracted to the more insidious elements of the universal frequency and the gods that lived within it.
His most recent quest began when the Observer purged the essence of Y-Intercept from his mother, the lion heart became increasingly protective over his family. So much so, Clarice Michelle tried to send him to the academy in hopes the boy would learn to live his life beyond the past. Instead, Lionel remained transfixed with finding the same dark aura that nearly took his mother's life. His distrust for the new universe apparent as he'd conjure himself in Valor City every single night. Searching for those connected to Ada Guillaume. He looked for clues as to what the Order was and what it could do. More often than not, his expeditions lead him nowhere. This time, however, his discovery was serendipitous. The aura aligned with the residue in his mother's soul. The Grimm Reaper had returned for Valor.
"I need my phone. Please, get me my phone." Lionel asked his friend and confidant, Eva Grace to get his cell. His mother might've been the goddess of mayhem, but he understood how Valor City could be destroyed. Through it's people. The same way the Mother's of the All-Seer realm took down Mount Olympus. It would be done the same way again. Lionel refused to see his mom caught in the crossfire of someone else's fight once again. He had to warn her before it was too late.
"We deserve this. Matter of fact, we earned this." Clarice took a gulp of the bourbon apple cider cocktail and finished it before her assistant could even respond.
"Well, you have worked hard Miss Pierce. Thank you so much for letting me be a part of this." In the old universe, Miss Pierce wasn't known for working a regular nine to five. Instead, her experience ranged from government mercenary to Olympian Queen, but reclaiming the CEO position of her new universe counterpart's company wasn't too bad.
The Humanity Now Institute was like Planned Parenthood for mutants. A series of clinics that educated young mutants about their powers, how to use contraceptives and offered cures for the more beastly looking ones. Either way, the diverse pool of super powered beings interested Miss Pierce immensely. Whereas her new counterpart turn as CEO pushed for mutant cure, Miss Pierce treated it as a last ditch option for mutants fearful of their own mental and physical health. In doing so, Clarice created a culture of solidarity the country had never seen before. A culture that was currently being ruined in some traffic jam in New York, but that was the PR department's problem.
"Please, Samantha. Dominus International has always been kind to the institute. Fam...I mean friends stick together." She'd almost forgotten, her counterpart was never adopted by the Zeraz clan. Regardless, they were friendly enough to briefly introduce Miss Pierce to Ashley Knightfall. The two had recently opened up a dialogue on using Humanity Now tech inside Valor City's Children's Hospital. Miss Pierce believed early education for parents for potential mutant children was absolutely necessary. It'd save this country the headache of dealing with an emotionally stunted mutant terrorist. That and it'd further corporate loyalty and worship. Both of which empowered the prime goddess in ways most couldn't begin to understand.
RING! RING! RING!
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, but I've gotta take this. If Brian ever picks up his phone...do tell him I said thank you." Miss Pierce kissed her friend on both cheeks before fluttering her fingers as a wave goodbye. On her phone was her newest friend, Justine Love. The Spanish actress was left-field choice for her documentary depiction, but that wasn't something makeup and CGI couldn't fix. Regardless, the prime goddess related to the immortal actress far more than any Instagram famous model the HBO studio tried throwing her way.
"Oh my goddess, Justine. Why are you calling me so early? Please, don't tell me that party was as boring as I had imagined?" Although Justine hadn't aged past one hundred years, the two shared similar views about the world they lived in. So much so, Justine was well aware of Miss Pierce's plans to court the city's support. It's for that reason and that reason alone, Justine informed Miss Pierce about Mayor Boss' impending demise.
"Thanks for telling me, babe. Besitos." Her wickedly devilish smirk appeared on her face while her violet eyes widened at the thought of what his death meant. A vacuum of power would engulf the city. Brian Newcastle would be too preoccupied to confront it. That left her...as the only powerful name in Valor. With intentions beyond their mortal brains, Miss Pierce knew she had work to do.
"This'll be fun." As she walked to her desk to pour herself another glass, her phone slipped from her fingers, smacking the corner of the desk before dropping onto the floor and cracking.
"Oh shit, hahaha, maybe seven glasses was enough, Clarice." With a cracked screen, her son's frantic call would fall on deaf ears. Miss Pierce would instead take a seat, slumped on her chair, with her glass in hand. As she swiveled around, facing the wall of glass that overlooked the north side of Valor, the Mistress of Mayhem sipped from her glass this time. She wanted to savor these few moments to herself. As discord fell upon the city once more, she could feel herself...thriving.
There was a woman in black. Her garments hugged an assassin's body, and her stride was so soundless she seemed more ghost than woman. Her skin was fair, her hair red, and her eyes trafficked in mystery as she strode along the cold floor with no expression to be read. She was beautiful, but her intentions were not. And her smell was hideous, like a moist corpse with maggots and vermin climbing out the mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. She walked round the building an unseen omen of things to come. Some doors were locked, and some nurses asleep. She stroked their cheeks, and with her touch - tore their sanity asunder.
The nurses woke, mangled by madness and nightmare visions that pulled apart their very souls. And the brutality of their screams shattered the glass around them. Patients awoke to the scene with clamoring hearts and bodies shaking with their fear. Those too sick to move, surrendered to a terror they did not think possible. The nurses screamed till the bones in their faces pushed out against their skin like blades, and they gave themselves.
Where all emotion once lay, the nurses now felt nothing. Only a lingering dread and haunting hopelessness. Come morning, three would take their own lives, and of their patients. And five would commit themselves behind the steel bars of a mental asylum.
The lady in black had vanished - and soon the Horned God would come.
"I must admit. I figured your past success' would go to your head. It would appear I was wrong. Good Job Ada." He applauded with his hands behind his back facing the iconic painting of the Last Supper.
Behind him bowed the entire Order: Ada, Jameela, Royce, and Wesley, the only person daring to stand in the face of this mortal was the Machine Matron, Zedora.
"This is just the beginning." The Poetic Assassin replied daring to break her bowed position without being told to do so. "Valor City's infrastructure has been weakened. Your Campaign can begin as soon as you deem it so" She said moving to his right shoulder gazing upon his face for the first time.
The Mysterious Figure was Wesely Weston, He wasn't a public figure like Royce or Jameela, but he'd inadvertently steered world events from his Valetta throne room for years. This was the man that forced Ziccarra to frame Quintus Knightfall years ago, he also ordered Ada to write the Book of Blades that'd spell the beginning of the end for the Cardinal Religion.
All of Weston's orders had come through his personal assistant, tonight seemed perfect enough to face his most loyal subjects for the first time. Ada knew no fear, for a long time she believed the man barking the orders was something greater, he was like her--Flesh and Blood.
"What did you have in store for the next step?" As he spoke she could tell by the small deviations in his demeanor that he was somewhat bothered by her relocation to his side--She didn't care. Now that she knew her "boss" was a man her attention soon shifted to her own personal task deciphering the forbidden book Zeon stole from the Court of Courts.
"We exaggerate the problem" Zedora interjected drawing the attention of Wesley. "Right now my Utility Androids, are rebelling against the people that bought them. Build your campaign on that, Valor City has pretty much convientally inconvenienced it'self.
"Execute protocol 14A" Zedora commanded, which saw all of the Utility Androids previously liberated march on Dominus International.
"He's getting ready" Ada report. Which drew a snide smirk from the Machine Matron.
A window shatters and the body slams on the ground, going into a roll before stopping. The rotund man is cut up a little like sushi with 1st and 2nd degree burns on his face and hands. He panics, trying to get away as he crawls.
A leg steps out of the window and the scene comes up to reveal the Blaze Rider. The blazing skull burning as hot as a furnace as he walks to the pathetic crawling man. The criminal begs, backing up, "No, no, please!"
Chains come alive, curling like snakes at the end of two crowbars. But the Blaze Rider causes them to vanish away as he picks the man up with his hands, bringing him close to what passed as his burning skull, "WHERE. IS. KANE?!"
"I told you I don't know! Please! I have five kids to feed!" He almost begins crying, but he does pee his pants.
"No you don't." The Blaze Rider states, staring him in the eye, using his Penance Stare and criminal screams over and over as he is forced to relive every single evil act he has ever committed from his victim's point of view, legs kicking helplessly until he stops struggling. The man is now in a catatonic state in which he will never come out of. The Blaze Rider drops his useless body, a body that will be on life support until someone is merciful and takes him off of it.
The Blaze Rider summons his bike, getting on and riding through Valor City looking for Kane. He will not rest until he finds him. In the meantime, the Valor City Docks have several criminals in a catatonic state with small fires littering the area.
"One of these days someone is going to catch you, and I don't know what's going to be worse. That you're a Liafador, or that you're parading around town in a red suit with a deadly weapon. With zero official training might I add"
Chance scoffed, listening to another one of her roommate's anti-vigilante speeches. Bethany, her roommate, wasn't really Anti-Vigilante; more so "Anti-you don't have a job and rent is due". "What was I supposed to do just let him continue to beat her?" She responded standing up for herself.
"That's not what I'm saying, I'm just saying you need to start focusing on YOUR life. What you're doing doesn't pay the bills and we're not getting any richer." Bethany continued. The Liafador Matriarch nodded as if she understood, but there was no haste in Chance finding a job. Recently, her bank account was being plus-up by some unknown benefactor. All transactions were simply marked as "Liafador Money" initially she thought about informing the police, but once things got rough she started spending it.
They did this every month, then 'Magically' Chance would swoop in with the money they needed to. Chance nodded in silence, it was soon parted by the sound of sporadic gunfire and tire peel outs. The two shared a silent gaze before Bethany turned a page of her book. "Be careful"
The Fledgling hero hurried down the fire escape, stashed between an ignored trash can and a storage shelter was her motorcycle. 'This really is a horrible parking spot' she thought hopping on the bike only for it to sputter before starting.
'Might be time for an oil change. Wait do these things run on oil? How do I change it. fck Focus Chance" sporadic thoughts plague the young Liafador's mind as she leaned into the bike around a corner following the faint sound of police sirens.
From the outside looking in the hero known locally as "Quiver" struggled to maintain her balance on the bike, her bike ironically tremored in use. Thanks to the events of Gothic City, a large portion of the scum migrated over to Valor; which was in the midst of its own problems.
Pulling up to the warehouse she discovered two problems, one, she'd need a grappling arrow to get in. Two, she left her quiver back at the apartment.
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