Freedom Reborn Archive

This thread is reserved for posts in the new "Luck of Heroes" play-by-post RPG.  Please do not post here if you are not a player, and players please confine your posts to story posts.  I will retitle the original thread for open player and reader comments.

This game will be a bit different than other play-by-posts.  It is something of an experiment in collaborative writing and story telling.  Posts here will be longer and less frequent, and more evenly balanced between players and GM.  Details and conflict outcomes will be arranged ahead of time via PM with final drafts posted for general consumption.  I ask that any player with game-related questions contact me via PM or in the open thread.

Prolog follows, with first contributions due soon.

Prolog:
Deep in the heart of Chinatown, far beyond the brightly neon-lit, tourist clogged main streets, one can find an unassuming storefront wedged between a travel agency and a small grocery.  Peering through the window one can see a huge wall of small drawers and shelves reaching to the ceiling behind a long counter.  The sales floor is crammed with boxes and barrels arranged in tidy rows.  The door is painted a bright green.  Hanging in its window is a rice paper banner, hung vertically in the Chinese style, with the single word "herbs" in elegant calligraphy.

It is twilight.  Out on the streets people bustle through a light rain in a hurry to get home to dinner.  The street is dim, lit more by the storefronts than by street lights.  Traffic on this street is light.

Inside the store are two people.  On the sales floor a slender young man with a broom pulls the crates and barrels one after another out of their tidy rows, carefully sweeps the space, and precisely replaces them.  The young man is dressed like any other teenager in jeans and a t-shirt.

Behind the counter an old man sits upon a stool.  The single over-head lamp reflects off his shiny bald head as he bends over a large ledger writing precise characters with ink and brush.  His brown wool dress slacks and vest were not new when he bought them at the thrift store ten years ago.  A battered canvas shoulder bag hangs on a hook behind the counter next to a knobby walking stick, polished by years of use, leaning against the wall.

Suddenly the old man pauses, looks up and suppresses a shudder.  His face is etched with concern as he stares at a point in space beyond the shop's window.  Quietly he murmurs, "I sense a disturbance in the Force."

"Master?" inquires the young man, pausing in his task.

"Nothing, Steven.  A small joke.  I've been known to make them on occasion.  You may leave for the evening.  I will see you in the morning."

"Um, yes Master," replies Steven.  He casts a quick glance around the store.  His chore is barely half-done, but an early dismissal is not to be questioned.  Ducking though a beaded curtain behind the counter he stows the broom and grabs his coat and a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.  Calling "Goodnight, Master" over his shoulder, he heads out to join the others bustling through the rain.

As the old man slips down off the stool one can see how short he is, his chest even with the counter top.  He hurries over to the door, locking it and drawing its blind.  Back behind the counter he reaches underneath and draws out a shallow porcelain bowl the size of a manhole cover.  He places it on the counter and remounts his stool, peering intently into the empty vessel.

A swirl of vapor forms on the bottom of the bowl and suddenly it is filled with water.  Two brightly colored goldfish swim in lazy circles through the water.  There is a sense of dark depth greater than the curve of the bowl.  In this depth he can make out one, possibly two more fish swimming as if trying to decide whether to surface or dive.

"Good.  Two at least.  Maybe more.  The universe maintains a balance."  The old man slides off of the stool, picks up the empty bowl and replaces it under the counter.  Rummaging around he draws out a sheaf of fine rice paper, an ink pot, brushes and a stand.  These he lines up neatly on the counter and retakes his seat.

Murmuring to himself in an odd croon he begins to write.  "Too hesitant last time were we.  Disaster did we court.  This time no such chances shall we take, hmmm?  Heh."

*Beep! Beep! Beep!*

In less then a second, a hand extended to the alarm clock, and slammed down on a button.  The clock was silenced.  A fat man then sat up in his bed rather quickly, but paused for a moment.  He groaned, then stood up.  He sped over to the counter, and made his daily cup of coffee.  After drinking it, he looked at the cupboard for any possible notes he may have written to himself the night before.  He found one, and read it. "Today after work: Go Over to Wanton's."  Ah yes, Wanton.  His one and only friend.  Wanton called and woke him up at 3:30 AM to tell him that he wanted him to come over soon, so Ed brought himself over to where he kept his paper, wrote himself a note to meet Wanton after work later in the day, and then quickly went back to sleep.  Now it was 6:30 AM, and Ed always made coffee and breakfast at this time.  Since he gained his new abilities, making coffee and breakfast has taken less time to do, and finishing it up takes less time as well.  Ed ate his breakfast and headed out to work.

Minneapolis is the city Ed resides in.  During the morning, he always heads over to Wendy's, and his job is being a cashier.  This is part of Ed's daily routine, and as such, Ed did the same today.  As most of the days before, nothing exciting went on over there.  Ed just did his job.  Once he was done with that, he headed on over to Wanton's in the early afternoon.

Wanton lived in a big house.  Wanton told Ed that he inherited it and his father's fortune.  His father had been a big business man, gaining a lot of money.  Wanton never went that route, before and after he got the inheritance. Ed stepped inside.  Wanton said that before he got the inheritance, the house looked very fancy.  Wanton remodeled after moving in, and now it looked like some sort of secret spy's head quarters, with cameras everywhere.  Ed headed up the long winding staircase, all the way up to the 3rd and last floor.  This was where Wanton slept, ate, and made his daily living, except for watching TV. The TV was on the first floor. In the middle was a large table, with a big computer on top.  Wanton was sitting in front of it.

"Wanton?" said Ed.

"Wanton turned around and stood up.  He was fatter then Ed, and had a thick black beard.  "Glad to see you, Ed.  I wanted to show you something.  Let's go to the second floor."

"If you say so..."

The 2nd floor was what Wanton called 'The Vault'.  It wasn't actually a fault, but there were shelves of DVDS of movies and TV shows.  He also had a small section of his so-called vault that he called "The Classified.  "Over here Ed."  He grabbed out a CD.  "I made a disk that has a lot of info on it.  Movies, TV shows, games, and...your latest profession."

Ed put a slight smile. "You mean where I put on the same pair of clothes every night and go out fighting as Bob Wilson?"

Wanton chuckled a bit. "Yes, that one.  I have info on a lot of stuff, and I figured that even I can forget, so I put it all on this disk."

"But, only you know how to use it, so why-?"

"Well, I figured I'd just let you know that if you're ever stuck and can contact me, you should do so."

"But you could have just told me that in person."

"Well, I also wanted to watch some Doctor Who with you."

"Oh, yes, I'd love to.  I haven't watched any since I started my nightly stroll.  I guess I was thinking a lot about my new 'job'."

"That's why I wanted you over.  To relieve your stress by both reassuring you that I'll be there if you ever need my technological expertise, and having you watch a good show with a good and trusted friend, with popcorn."

"Thanks Wanton.  You're the only friend I have."

"I know.  Now let's go down to the TV, shall we?"
_________________________________________________________________

After watching "Army of Ghosts," "Doosmday", "Genesis of the Daleks," and "The Three Doctors", it was around 8.30.  Ed took off the white sweater he had on, revealing a green T-shirt.  He already had his blue jeans on.  Saying goodbye to Wanton for the night, he sped out the door and began his nightly stroll.  He was racing past cars, and past fitter people who were running.  He was running much faster then them.  Turning his head to the side, he noticed something peculiar. Backtracking, he noticed a large man hitting a woman with a club in a park.  Ed saw this as wrong.  He raced closer and stretched out his limbs.  Combined with his speed, they whipped the man pretty quickly.  He went over to the woman.  "Next time, be careful where you're walking."  The next thing to happen was a bit strange at first.  The woman smiled.  "Sorry, but you're quite wrong about what's going on here."

"But...you were being attacked.  The club-"

"Was hollow," said the man.  He got up, and said "Body's armor a wonderful thing, isn't it?  And so is having female partners who had acting lessons.  LADIES AND GENTS', BUT MOSTLY GENTS'!  I THINK IT'S TIME WE TAUGHT THIS HERE MAN A LESSON!  COME ON OUT!"  9 men and 3 women by the looks of things climbed out of the numerous trees and bushes in the park.  Ed was surrounded.  "You back up now, Lisabeth.  Now, mister...Wilson, was it?  Before we send you to the other side, like other intruders, I think it's best you know why you're so disliked by my fellow men and women, as you can plainly see."  All of the thugs had either a knife or a gun, and so did the woman who portrayed a helpless lady.  The leader began walking around Edward.  "You see, why me and my lady friend set you up is because you are interfering in our daily affairs.  Recently, every night you've been assaulting us.  And why is that?"

"Because attacking, maiming, killing, stealing, and everything else like that is wrong," said Bob."

"We don't think it to be wrong, do we?" Each of the thugs said something that meant yes, such as "Yeah boss," or "That's right,". "It's just our way of business.  But now, we're going to have to kill you to get back our freedom to do as we please, which you took way from us when you came in one night, and started taking away our rights!"

"You lose some of your rights when you break the law-"

"AND WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO ASSAULT US?!"

"THIS-" a blur hit the leader in the chin, and he promptly fell to the ground, "-gives me the right."  It happened so fast.  Bob started flailing out his arms and spinning all over the place.  All of the bullets missed, and some of the shots hit fellow thugs.  It was over within a minute.  Ed took a moment to look at all of his KO'ed victims, then picked up his cell phone.  "Is this the police?...Yeah, look, I have a situation.  There's all of these people knocked out over here, all carrying knives or guns except for one man.  I don't know what hit them.  Better get over here quickly."  For one or two thugs, Bob wouldn't call the police, but for a crowd like this, Ed decided to call them for cleanup. Seeing how he didn't want to meet the police, he headed back home.

When Ed got back, there was a rice paper scroll bound with a green ribbon sitting on the counter.  Ed unrolled it.  It read "Dear Champion,

I have recently become aware of your activities and wish to offer my heartfelt encouragement to you and the steps you have already taken to help your fellow man.

I feel your recent emergence is something of providence as I have also recently become aware of a grave threat to our planet.  I can not reveal at this stage what this threat is.  This is not an effort on my part to appear mysterious and aloof as I simply can not ascertain the nature of the threat at this stage.  Still, I deem it prudent to begin to lay the ground work for a group of individuals who can stand ready to act once the threat becomes clear.

To this end I invite you to attend a meeting to discuss the coordination of your activities.  Please arrive at the nearest Wendy's 7:00 pm next Sunday.

Pardon the mysterious nature of this correspondence, but for the time being I deem it prudent to remain behind the scenes.  (Although in all honesty there is an element of appearing mysterious and aloof in this decision).

Sincerely yours,

A friend"

I don't like this. Thought Ed.  Grave threat to our planet my arse.  Still, I have no plans Sunday.  I might as well go so that I'll have something to do, but I'll be cautious. 'Only trust Wanton' is currently my number one rule.

Danny's day began much like any other, waking up at 5:14 am, showering, shaveing and prepareing for work. He offered a short prayer to the gods and goddesses for guidance and protection before leaveing his small apartment to head to work. He offered another prayer for the continued functioning of his ancient van, letting out a tightly held breath when the engine finnally growled to life, procedeing then to work at the Third Eye Open occult bookstore. Entering the shop, he noticed Lady Dragonfly, his boss, busilly arranging the new shipment of books on the shelves.

"Danny, good to see you. I set aside a copy of Dancing with Dragons for you out of the new shipment. It's behind the counter."

"Thanks Aunt D. I'll grab it when I take lunch," he said with a smile, moving to the boxes of herbs, filling the jars. Danny puased as his friend and co-worker Rachel then entered the store, smileing to him and Lady Dragonfly.

"Hi mom, hi Danny. How's that new suit of armor coming along?" she asked, genuinly interested as she looked to Danny, her bright blue eyes setting his heart on fire and melting his brain to mush.

"Oh, I just got the rest of the rivets I need, just need to pound them into place. yanno, umm... I'd uh... really like it if you... umm, yanno, came out to fighter practice when I get it done... umm, watch me test it? Then after we could... uh, get sandwiches, or something?" Danny bit his lip, trying not to blush. it was the closest he had come to asking her out on a date, and he felt that he had blown it big time.

"I think I'd like that. I always thought you looked hot in armor. but then again, it's no surprise, considering the last three times i've watched you fight, it's been almost 98 degrees out. how do you boys handle it?" Rachel laughed, and Danny laughed to, albeit somewhat less enthusiasticlly. Rachel had gotten his hopes up for a brief moment, only to deflate his ego scant senconds later with the joke. Danny knew she ment well, but he wished he could tell her how he really felt.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and after helping clean up and close shop, Danny drove his van to the park. Las Vegas was a hard city to find a quiet spot in, but Sunset Park in the south part of town was a decent enough spot, aside from it's close proximity to Mccarren Airport. As he parked the van and started to get out, he heard a cry for help from the bushes nearby. Reaching behind the seat to get his fighting stick and his dragon mask, he quickly moved to where he had heard the sound.

In the bushes, he found a big man holding down a woman, his fist raised to strike her. She already had a couple of bruises, and as he went to swing at her, Danny rushed him, knocking the man down as the woman scrambled away. Danny looked to make sure she got away alright, but his momentary lapse of attention allowed the man to recovor and kick his feet out from under him. Landing in the dirt, he heard the man laugh harshly.

"So you're the so called "thunder wizard" huh? what do you call yourself, Dragor, Draco, something like that? You're the one who's chased all the gangs out of Sunrise Manor? Not so tough now, are you, wizard man? I was hopeing you'd come by here. My boys and I are gonna make sure you can never mess with us again. You've hurt our operations long enough, and now we're gonna make you pay. Ain't that right, boys?"

At this, several other men stepped from the bushes, holding bats and chains and other items. Danny looked around, and clasped his pentacle, quickly reciting the Ritual of Protection, just as the first thug swung at him with a bat. The weapon was deflected just before impact, and Danny lept to his feet, swinging his stick at the man's gut.

Two others circled around with chains, and one lept forward to try and snare his arm. Danny invoked his Elemental Hex, and an electric shock passed through the chain to the man holding it, causeing him to leap away and drop the weapon. The other man's chain almost caught him in the head, but the Protection spell deflected it as well, but not completly.

Slightly dazed, Danny was almost tackled by a third man, but was able to bring his stick around and smash it into the man's forhead. Invoking the Elemental Hex again, Danny was able to sandblast a few of the other men, keeping them at bay as he retreated towards his van. Getting in, he slammed the door on one man's arm before getting it closed, turning the key in the ignition franticlly. The engine roared to life almost immediatly, much to Danny's surprise, and he slammed it into gear, punching the gas.

The van was old and somewhat broken down, but it was big and intimidating, the engine was still an eight cylinder powerhouse and the big offroad tires never lost traction except in the muddiest of war sites. Here on the dry dirt of the back parking lot, it lept forward like an angry beast, engine roaring like an unchained demon, scattering the remaining men as they lept out of the way of the monsterous vehicle, and Danny sped away, heading for the main road.

Once Danny was well away from the park, he calmed himself down, and turned towards home, dialing the police to report the gang activity at the park. Once he was finished, he pulled up to his apartment, moving inside, stopping as he glanced around. Something wasn't right, the door had been locked, but there was something different about the house. Then danny spotted it, laying on his altar in the cornor, laid neatly beside the incence burner, a stick of incense burning in it, filling the room with the scent of Dragonsblood. Danny picked up the rice paper scroll, looking at it before undoing the green ribbon that bound it, unrolling it slowly. Written in the scroll, in a tight, spidery script, Danny read the following.

Dear Champion,

I have recently become aware of your activities and wish to offer my heartfelt encouragement to you and the steps you have already taken to help your fellow man.

I feel your recent emergence is something of providence as I have also recently become aware of a grave threat to our planet.  I can not reveal at this stage what this threat is.  This is not an effort on my part to appear mysterious and aloof as I simply can not ascertain the nature of the threat at this stage.  Still, I deem it prudent to begin to lay the ground work for a group of individuals who can stand ready to act once the threat becomes clear.

To this end I invite you to attend a meeting to discuss the coordination of your activities.  Please arrive at the Dollar Cinema on Tropicana Ave. at 7:00 pm next Sunday evening.

Pardon the mysterious nature of this correspondence, but for the time being I deem it prudent to remain behind the scenes.  (Although in all honesty there is an element of appearing mysterious and aloof in this decision).

Sincerely yours,

A friend

Danny blinked as he read the scroll. Champion? Grave threat to the planet? What was going on here? Sunday was three days from now. Danny reflected that the dollar cinema would be a good place for a myterious and aloof person, intended or not, to have a meeting. The place got barely any buisness, and a dark theater would keep identities somewhat concealed. He checked the schedule for seven, and saw what was going to be playing then.

"Huh. I guess my "not so mysterious and aloof" friend here likes imported Kung-fu flicks"

David was having the dream again; and in the dream everything was all right.  It was a summer day and he had blown off his chores to go exploring.  He was climbing the hills around his village and he heard the voices calling him.

"Don't go!', he thought frantically to himself.  "Don't go and this time everything will be different."

But it was like he was watching a movie, and no matter how much he screamed at himself, there was nothing he could do to make things go any other way.  Trapped within his own mind, there was nothing he could do but watch as he once again climbed the grassy hill (that was forbidden whispered another voice in the back of his mind); and entered the darkened cave (that was haunted, whispered the same voice).

And there they were. The Gods.  Sitting on their thrones, majestic and terrifying in their splendor.  And they were talking to him, explaining to him that they had chosen him to be their champion; that they would make him smarter, stronger, faster, better  then other men.  That he would live forever.  All he had to do was say "yes".

So that was what he said.  And then the gods came down off their thrones and surrounded him, glowing faces peering into his and -Their eyes, my God, so big and black what's wrong with their eyes.  And he opened his mouth –

--And David woke with a scream, which as he lay there in the dark, covered in sweat, transformed itself into a smile.  He remembered.  Oh, he could feel the memories leaking away again, but each time he helped, he had the dream, and each time he had the dream, the memory blocks weakened and he remembered more and more.
 
Had it really only been a few weeks since this had all started?  Since that disastrous attempt at a waiting job?  He had been walking home, back to the halfway house when he'd heard the scream.  Even now, he couldn't figure out why he'd gone running into the alley.

There was a man with a knife, and a woman who had been at some sort of party. The man had a knife to her throat, and with his free hand was pawing at her.  And on seeing this something inside David had snapped- he had taken off down the alley at a sprint, giving only a fleeting thought as to how he could run so fast, and then snapped a punch that sent the guy flying.  The woman had run off as well, leaving behind only the domino mask she had worn to the party.

That night was the first night he had the dream.  The first night he remembered who he actually was.  And each time he went out, each time he helped, the blocks weakened further, and he remembered more of his history.  He still couldn't remember who had put the blocks in – who had wanted to make him think he was a harmless loon, but he would eventually.  And then, they would pay.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Voices in a dark room:

"I've found him, sir."

"What?"

"My contact in the police gave me a report from a few weeks ago.  A woman claimed a man in a tux rescued her from a mugger.  The description fits our boy.  And since then, a man in a tux and a domino mask has been stopping crime almost every night. "

The first voice becomes something that might convey that the speaker is smiling. "He's back, then?  After nearly 20 years.  Does the government know?"

"I can't imagine that they wouldn't."

"Still, put it on the website. Let them know in no uncertain terms that the jig is up."

The sound of footsteps, and then a low chuckle. "He's back.  Oh, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes."

Voices fade.
__________________________________________________________________________
It was late.  Time to go out and earn more of his memories back.  David put on his tux and the small mask, and headed out into the cold Ohio streets.

He smiled as he heard a scream. "Sometimes, the night is generous."  A friend had told him that once, though at least for now he couldn't remember who.

The scream lead him to the same alley where it all began.  But this time things were different.  The woman was screaming, but there was no one else around.

His eyes narrowed to slits behind his mask- "What's going on?"

The woman smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes. "Ah, the mysterious champion.  You've been interfering in my boss' work far too much these past few weeks. Your interference will no longer be tolerated.  And once you're dead, he can return to his work unimpeded."

David chuckled. "Pardon the cliché, but you and what. . ."  The words died in his throat as he smelled the unmistakable brimstone smell of teleportation and the alley behind the woman filled up with menacing figures.  He turned, but they had teleported behind him as well.

With a roar, the mob closed in.  There was no room for finesse, nowhere to use his speed, no way to leverage his strength.  Punch and kick followed punch and kick as the mob closed in on him.  He could only be grateful that they hadn't brought guns – stories of his uncanny agility had apparently spread and they were unwilling to risk hitting one of their own.

And as the crowd pressed in on him, he was reminded of the days spent in the straightjacket, gagged, unable to move.  Fighting the panic rising in his throat, he scanned the alley. There!

He used the last of his strength to throw off those who had swarmed him.  Then, crouching down, he jumped to a small window ledge on the right side of the street, and quickly, before his momentum could die, back across the alley to a fire escape.  Then it was up the fire escape, lose the mob as he leapt over the rooftops and home.

It seemed odd that they weren't even trying to follow him, but David was too battered and bruised to care.  He reached the window of the halfway house, and stopped.  There, tied to the window he always used when he was playing hero was a small scroll, tied with a green ribbon.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Voices in the ether:

"Report."

"We bruised and bloodied him, but he got away."

"Good."

"What? Boss? You've been going on about how we've needed to kill this clown for weeks now!  Takings were down 15% because of him, you said."

"I know what I said, but the matter's been taken out of my hands.  It seems our friend has powerful enemies. Even more powerful than me. And, for now, they want him alive. And they're willing to pay us for the inconvenience."

"It's always the bottom line with you, boss." Low chuckle.

"Yup.  Besides, they've assured me that if he caused too much trouble they have something prepared for him.  Something worse than death."

"Allright, well, you're the boss."

"That I am. Over and out."

Voices fade.
_____________________________________________________________________________
With shaking hands, David untied the scroll and read it:
"Dear Champion,

I have recently become aware of your activities and wish to offer my heartfelt encouragement to you and the steps you have already taken to help your fellow man.

I feel your recent emergence is something of providence as I have also recently become aware of a grave threat to our planet.  I can not reveal at this stage what this threat is.  This is not an effort on my part to appear mysterious and aloof as I simply can not ascertain the nature of the threat at this stage.  Still, I deem it prudent to begin to lay the ground work for a group of individuals who can stand ready to act once the threat becomes clear.

To this end I invite you to attend a meeting to discuss the coordination of your activities.  Please arrive at The Youngstown Public Library at 7:00 pm next Sunday.

Pardon the mysterious nature of this correspondence, but for the time being I deem it prudent to remain behind the scenes.  (Although in all honesty there is an element of appearing mysterious and aloof in this decision).

Sincerely yours,

A friend"

As he climbed in the window and headed for bed, David thought to himself- "I could use a friend about now.  Would've saved my bacon back there.  Plus, I can't shake the funny feeling that I might not be alone; that the Gods might've chosen others.  I need more help if I'm to recover my memories. And I haven't had a friend in a long, long time."

He fell on his bed, still fully clothed, and as the darkness claimed him, he realized he probably wouldn't have any dreams tonight.

It's been a busy Friday night for our heroes.  At three distinct points across the USA a strangely congruent scene plays out for each.  Saturday morning finds each awaking safe in their own beds, nursing a variable degree of injury.  As they make their ways through their weekends, let's briefly turn our attention elsewhere. . .



David Hammond awoke to the sound of fussing and sleepily rolled over.  Blinking sleep from his eyes he looked past the monitor to the alarm clock on the bedside table.  3:23.  Right on time.  Lifting himself upright with his arms he maneuvered himself deftly into the wheelchair parked next to his bed.

Disturbed by the sudden movement, his wife woke.  "Hrurh?  I cn gedder," she mumbled.

"Too late, I'm up anyway," David smiled.  "I'll go change her and bring her in.  You stay put."

"M'kay," Amelia replied, sitting up and pushing her long brown hair from her face.

With a quick grin David turned and wheeled out of the room, his tires virtually silent on the low Berber carpet.  Amelia listened through the baby monitor as daddy plucked his now loudly crying daughter from her crib.  Over her noise she could him clucking softly to the baby and she could picture him maneuvering one handed to the changing table, his daughter over one shoulder.  She loved this "secret eavesdropping" on father and daughter.  Amelia made out the soft squeak as he set her gently on the specially modified low table, the rustle of him rummaging through the drawers for wipes and a clean diaper, all the while Elena Ramiraz-Hammond urging her father to hurry as only a 2 month old could.

David's startled "What the . . . ?" snapped her out of her reverie.  With sudden intensity she listened to what sounded like the crinkle of paper.  So intently was she listening that the sudden crash against the common wall between the two rooms startled her straight out of bed and to her feet.  Simultaneously there was a hissing crackle and a bright orange light streamed through the doorway from down the hall.

Amelia snatched her pistol from where it hung in its holster over the bed post and was out the door in a second.  In the hallway she meet an apparition that was simultaneously comforting and terrifying – a gigantic figure of a man swathed from head to toe in pulsing neon orange light.  And a pair of baggy boxer shorts.

"GoodyoustaywithebabyandshuthedoorI'llberightback!" shouted her husband as he streaked past her.

Without a backwards glance Amelia entered the baby's room and slammed the door behind her.  A quick glance at the shrieking infant on the changing table confirmed that her daughter was at least physically OK.  With almost super human effort she kept from snatching Elena up, opting instead to keep her hands and attention free.  She could her David as he ran through the house at a speed that made his foot steps a deep humming vibration rather than distinct foot falls.  She barely had time to take up a guarding stance in front of the changing table when she heard the front door slam open and saw a brilliant orange light streak past the window.

In the sudden silence the baby's crying seemed suddenly magnified.  Eyes still fixed on the door Amelia reached behind her with her left hand.  Placing it on her daughter's belly she gently rocked the baby as she cooed, "It's OK, baby.  You got a cop for a mommy and a superhero for a daddy and there's nothing in this world that's gonna hurt you.  It's OK.  It's OK"

Comforted by her mother's touch and voice Elena quieted a bit.  As the moments dragged on Amelia spared the rest of the room a quick glance.  David's chair lay in a heap against the far wall, which sported a wheel chair sized hole in the sheet rock.  It was then that she noticed a roll of paper on the floor near her feet.  She puzzled at this for a second, but deigned to pick it up and returned her attention to the door.  Seconds later she heard David return.  An instant later he was in the room with her.

Moving with what she knew was almost excruciating slowness he walked over to his chair and set it upright.  As he turned and sat the nimbus of his energy armor flowed down his body, winking out entirely as it reached a point midway between his hips and his knees, leaving him legless and human once again.

The very fact that he had powered down told her there was no imminent threat.  Clicking the gun's safety on, she reached down and placed it carefully on the floor before turning to pick up the baby.  Shushing and bouncing she turned around to see David roll over and pick up the piece of paper and the dark green silk ribbon next to it that she hadn't noticed earlier.

"Sorry, babe," he grunted.  "Somehow this damn thing appeared in Elena's changing table.  Someone must have broke in and put it there, but there's no sign of a break in and nothing else added or out of place anywhere else."

"What is it?" she asked.

With a shrug he unrolled the scroll and began to read:

"Dear Champion,

I have long followed your activities and wish to offer my heartfelt encouragement to you and the steps you have already taken to help your fellow man.

I have recently become aware of a grave threat to our planet and the near simultaneous emergence of a new group of heroes.  I regard this emergence as something of providence and am convinced that they hold the key to our salvation, much as you and your comrades did two years ago.

I can not reveal at this stage what this threat is.  This is not an effort on my part to appear mysterious and aloof as I simply can not ascertain the nature of the threat at this stage. Still, I deem it prudent to begin to lay the ground work for a group of individuals who can stand ready to act once the threat becomes clear.

Your vast experience and leadership would be a great asset to this group  To this end I invite you to attend a meeting to discuss the coordination of your activities. Please arrive at the north entrance to Northrup Auditorium next Sunday at 7:15 pm.

Pardon the mysterious nature of this correspondence, but for the time being I deem it prudent to remain behind the scenes.  (Although in all honesty there is an element of appearing mysterious and aloof in this decision).  I also apologize to your lovely wife and daughter for the disruption.

Sincerely yours,

A friend"

*Beep! Beep! Beep!*

Once again, a hand quickly slammed down on a button, but this time, the person who was attached to the hand stayed in bed for 5 and a half hours.  That was because today was a Saturday, a day off to be precise.  Besides that, the owner of the hand in question had a rather interesting time the night before.  As a result, he woke up later then he did on a typical Saturday, which would be 9:30.  This particular Saturday, he awoke at 12:00.  While he got some extra sleep, he still required coffee and a decent breakfast to increase his bodily functionality, and general awareness.  After this, he stretched out his arms and spun in place a few times to make sure he was in fine condition.  He then popped "The Seven Samurai" into the DVD player.  After finishing with that, he put a game Wanton gave him a while back called "Soul Caliber III" into the PS2 which Wanton also gave him.  A lot of the things Ed owned were gifts Wanton gave him on Christmases and his birthdays.  Ed's gifts to Wanton were certainly not as stellar, but it was always the thought that counted.  Ed always preferred to make his living on his own though, even though Wanton could probably take care of it all.  Ed just had a personal preference for making his own way, though he did accept gifts of entertainment.  After that, he once more did his nightly stroll, in which he found no trouble.  Odd indeed...

The next morning, Ed slept till 9:30.  This day off was a vacation day.  He engaged in coffee, breakfast, "X-Men 2", and "Tekken 5", and after that, it was 6:30.  Time to go, he thought to himself, I reckon.  I have to remember at all times to not let my guard down while I'm there.

Danny awoke to a splitting headache, and covored his eyes to block out the sun streaming into his face from the window.

"Argh... I really need to try and find a way to focus the Protection Ritual better. My head feels like Ed just used me as a pel for an hour, and that's if I was wearing my helmet. Speaking of Ed."

Danny turned and lifted his phone, dialing his combat mentor up. "Yo, Danny, how's it all goin?"

"Not bad, Ed. Just figureing to let you know I'll be over in about an hour to finish my armor up for tommorow."

"No problem man, we'll see ya then."

Danny got up and dressed quickly, grabbed a hot pocket, and headed out the door. His van, for all that it had started up just fine last night, was back to it's old, surly, tempermental self this morning, and after 10 minutes, Danny had finally coaxed it to start up, driving over to Ed's place. They spent the next few hours finishing Danny's new suit of brigandine, and the rest of the afternoon shooting the breeze, tradeing "war" stories about old SCA events, before Danny left that evening to go home. He made a point to drive by Sunset Park and through Sunrise Manor before he got home, but saw no sign of the gangers that had attacked him the night before.

The next morning, Danny left to head over to sunday fighter practice at Lorenzi park, and was overjoyed to see Rachel there, chatting with a few of the other folks. Danny waved to her and started strapping on his new armor, as she came over. "Hey Danny. The armor looks wonderful."

"Thanks Rachel. I'm just glad it's done. Next step is getting it approved and then on to combat testing." Danny buckled the last of the straps down, and Rachel handed him his helmet, before he went over to the Marshal and got the verbal ok. Combat testing went well, and Danny was pleased with how well the armor worked. Several of the other fighters complimented him and he finished practice in a high mood.

"Hey Danny, how about those sandwiches you promised me?" Rachel smiled to him, helping him pull the armor off.

"Huh? Oh, uh, sure! Yeah, uh, how's Quizno's sound?"

"Sounds great! I love their philly cheesesteak sub!"

The two climbed into Danny's van, and spent a couple hours eating and talking. The conversation mostly revolved around work and the SCA, subjects that Danny could talk to Rachel about with more ease, but he tried once or twice to bring up how he felt about Rachel, only to fumble his words, and quickly trial off before he could really get anything out. then, about 6:30 PM, his watch alarm started beeping, just as he was about to try and get out his feelings in one quick shot. "Rachel... i have something to say.. I.. uh.. I.. *beepbeepbeepbeep* have to get going.. I have to go meet a friend."

Danny mentally dropkicked himself, and as quickly and politly as he could, excused himself from the table. Rachel gave him a smile and promised to see him at work the next day, but as Danny left, her smile faded, and she thought sadly to herself "I thought he was going to say he loved me. But I wonder if he really does?"

Danny had no idea what Rachel was thinking, but he knew that he felt like an idiot for not being able to tell her what he felt. "Ah, what's it matter, anyway? She probably thinks I'm some kinda goober, probably wouldn't go out with me anyway." He pushed those thoughts aside as the dollar cinema came into view, and he got out, buying a ticket for the movie, something like "Monkey's Paw of the Furious Flying Feet" or some such, moving into the theatre to await his new "friend," for now putting his thoughts and feelings on Rachel aside.

Saturday:

Sleep. Pain. Food. Pain. Sleep.

Sunday:

David woke up, and then immediately wished he hadn't.

"Ow.  Good Lord, I feel like one big bruise.  Thats what I get for being overconfident."

Slowly, painfully, wincing with every movement, he dragged himself down the hall to the communal shower.  The hot water washed most of the aches and pains away, and a few painkillers took care of the rest.

He was looking into the mirror, when something occurred to him, and he began to chuckle.  "They tried to kill me.  I must be doing something right."

Feeling better, he returned to his room and got dressed.  Putting his costume in his backpack, he was headed out the door when he thought better of it, returned, and tossed the mysterious scroll in there as well.

He spent most of his weekend at the library, anyway, reading up on the bits and pieces of the history he remembered.  So he doubted it would cause much comment if he showed up there early and made some preparations.

Meeting a possible friend was one thing. Walking into a possible trap was another.

Bob:
Dusk in Minneapolis brings a bit of a chill, and the people walking down the street pause to zip up their jackets or push their hands deeper into their pockets.   The neighborhood may have seen better days, but it's still a solid working class area.  A largish man lurches down the street – walking with unusual rapidity the slowing suddenly as if catching himself hurrying for a dentist appointment.  His jacket collar is pulled up to his ears and he casts frequent glances over his shoulder.  He pauses in front of a Wendy's restaurant and looks inside.  If one could see his eyes they would be peering intently into the restaurant.

But there is nothing unusual about it.  The dinner rush is winding down and the dining room is about half full.  As he stares a car drives slowly past and into the drive through lane.  Behind the counter he can see the employees moving to and fro as they use the break in the business flow to clean up.

The man chews on his lower lip as if trying to reach a difficult decision.  With a sigh he continues his path towards the door.  Reaching the door he stops once again, hand poised over the handle.  With a shake of his head he grasps the handle, pulls open the door and walks into the vestibule.  Quickly he takes the next step to the inner door and pulls it open.

And he stops.  Instead of the dining room in front of him he finds an octagonal room.  The walls are painted a tranquil grayish green.  On several of the adjacent walls he can see additional door – four in all on alternating sides.  Between each door hangs a long rice paper banner with Chinese characters in broad brush strokes.  The center of the room is dominated by a large octagonal table of dark gleaming wood.  In the center of which is a tray the size of a wagon wheel with a horse-head sized piece of jade carved into a mountain scene.  Also on the tray is a steaming porcelain tea pot and four cups.  Suddenly there is an odd shimmer in the air and two of the doors open to reveal a man.


Dracor:
The slender young man shoves the large duffel bag over his shoulder farther around his back with one elbow while digging out his wallet with the same hand.  Pulling out a single dollar bill he pushes it through the space at the bottom of the ticket window.  Inside a heavy-set Asian teen glances up from her People magazine, grabs the bill and tears a pink ticket from the roll on the counter.  By the time she has pushed it through to the man her eyes have returned to the magazine.  If she notices the slender young man looking quizzically at her she does not respond.

With a shrug he walks over to the entrance and into the lobby.  The dark carpet is so worn it almost feels greasy.  The air inside is cooler than the lingering heat of the Las Vegas dusk, but heavy and touched with the scent of mildew.  The concession counter extends perpendicularly into the lobby from the box office.  A few stray cups of popcorn lay in the bottom of the hopper, but there is no warming light on them, and from the stale, slightly rancid smell in the air they could have been their for years.

The man looks around the lobby.  To his right stairs lead to the balcony, while two sets of doors ahead of him lead to the main floor of the theater.  With a smile and a shrug he turns and heads up the stairs to the balcony.  At the top he grasps the heavy wooden door pulls it open and heads into the darkness.

And he stops.  Instead of the theater balcony in front of him he finds an octagonal room.  The walls are painted a tranquil grayish green.  On several of the adjacent walls he can see additional door – four in all on alternating sides.  Between each door hangs a long rice paper banner with Chinese characters in broad brush strokes.  The center of the room is dominated by a large octagonal table of dark gleaming wood.  In the center of which is a tray the size of a wagon wheel with a horse-head sized piece of jade carved into a mountain scene.  Also on the tray is a steaming porcelain tea pot and four cups.  Suddenly there is an odd shimmer in the air and two of the doors open to reveal a man.


Immortal:
Deep in the stacks of the Youngstown library a tall, well build man moves stiffly down the aisle.  He pauses to glance at the piece of paper held in his hand, examines the shelf in front of him, and then moves a few more shelves down the room.  The lighting is fairly dim, but it can not hide a prominent black eye and split lip.

The man again checks the slip of paper before heading down the aisle, eyes scanning the shelves.  Pausing he pulls a book from the shelf and places it on the stack he carries balanced in the crook of his opposite arm.  Once he does so he glances at his watch.  With a deep sigh he retraces his steps back to the table where he left his backpack.

From the backpack he pulls a canvas tote and loads up his books.  Shouldering his pack he heads across the library floor to the rest rooms.  Once inside he enters the handicapped stall and latches the door.  Reaching into the back pack he withdraws a neatly folded black tuxedo and a small black mask.  He changes quickly and dons the mask before folding his street clothes and stowing them in the pack.

As he exits the stall he pauses to glance in the mirror.  He scowls at his reflection, then swears softly as the expression causes his injured lip to reopen and begin oozing blood.  He grabs a paper towel and dabs at his lip as he exits the bathroom.

And he stops.  Instead of the library floor in front of him he finds an octagonal room.  The walls are painted a tranquil grayish green.  On several of the adjacent walls he can see additional door – four in all on alternating sides.  Between each door hangs a long rice paper banner with Chinese characters in broad brush strokes.  The center of the room is dominated by a large octagonal table of dark gleaming wood.  In the center of which is a tray the size of a wagon wheel with a horse-head sized piece of jade carved into a mountain scene.  Also on the tray is a steaming porcelain tea pot and four cups.  Suddenly there is an odd shimmer in the air and two of the doors open to reveal a man.

Ed looked at his surroundings.  Hm....That guy over there looks like an average Joe...and the other one looks like he's ready for a ballroom competition.  And either I'm dreaming, or THIS is what I got for being too trusting.

Bod decided to check his suspicions, and smiled.  "Hello everyone.  I'm Bob.  Now, can you all please say you're figments of my imagination, or is this unfortunately reality?  Last time I saw something even remotely close to this was that one night when I drank too many beers."

hmmm.. i believe this to be reality. can i safely presume that we all recieved a similar rice paper scroll inviting us to a meeting? in wich case, that would make the two of you the "other indivduals" mentioned in said scroll? fascinating.. i wonder what sort of magic this took.. teleportation would seem the most obvious answer, but perhaps it's something more along the lines of astral projection? No, no... i've never heard of astral projection being triggered by outside interferance. --glanceing up, seeing the looks of confusion and puzzlement, he stops-- i'm sorry... perhaps we should start with introductions.. my name is Danny.. i go by Dracor in costume.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on January 31, 2008, 10:22:45 PM
hmmm.. i believe this to be reality. can i safely presume that we all recieved a similar rice paper scroll inviting us to a meeting? in wich case, that would make the two of you the "other indivduals" mentioned in said scroll? fascinating.. i wonder what sort of magic this took.. teleportation would seem the most obvious answer, but perhaps it's something more along the lines of astral projection? No, no... i've never heard of astral projection being triggered by outside interferance. --glanceing up, seeing the looks of confusion and puzzlement, he stops-- i'm sorry... perhaps we should start with introductions.. my name is Danny.. i go by Dracor in costume.

"So, to sum up all the mumbo jumbo you just said, there's a good chance I'm not dreaming, eh?  Well, as I said, I'm Bob, though that's only my codename.  I don't like giving out my real name to strangers in weird situations like this."  Bob looked towards the man in the tux.  "So, who might you be? What's your take on this?"

David looks around, taking in the room; the walls, the doors; looking for exits, or things to use as weapons in the chance of an attack.  His eyes pause for a moment on the banners on the wall.  He translates them without thinking, sparing only a tiny portion of his mind to exult Hey, I know Chinese!, followed immediately by pangs of both anger and sorrow as he is once again forced to confront the enormity of what he has lost.

Having scoped out the room, and gotten no sense of threat from it, he turns his attention to the occupants. He is watching the slender young man and the stocky man have a conversation when his attention is distracted by the stocky man speaking to him; "So, who might you be?  What's your take on this?"

David swallows hard. He'd noticed the "other individuals" phrase in the scroll, but had only half-heartedly believed that there would actually be others there.  He's never been very good in social situations; No ,he steadies himself, that's the memory blocks talking.  He senses nothing but good will and curiosity from the other two men near him.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thinks to himself. And besides, I could use some friends- the word seems odd and difficult even to think, let alone make real. He begins to speak:

"My name is David, though I go by". He pauses microscopically; Crap! What am I going to call myself? Casting about wildly for a name, he recalls stumbling over a website that purported to document his history. What did they call me? He recalls the name they'd given him, and though he rolls his eyes inwardly, he says it out loud as no better options present themselves.

"I go by The Immortal.  And frankly, I've no idea what to make of all this yet.  But I am real. I am!"  And even as he says it,  he has to wonder if his stress on the last two words is only heard by himself.

allright. ummm.. i guess the next part is powers. i can cast spells, use magic. what about you guys? --shifting my weight to allow me to set down my duffel bag, the weight of the armor making my shoulder sore--

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 02, 2008, 01:38:54 PM
allright. ummm.. i guess the next part is powers. i can cast spells, use magic. what about you guys? --shifting my weight to allow me to set down my duffel bag, the weight of the armor making my shoulder sore--

"I can go really fast, and stretch out my arms."  Bob stretched out his arms, then spun around in place, to prove he was telling the truth.  "And you, Mr.Immortal?"

David relaxes a bit. Powers. That was familiar ground.

"I seem to be much faster, stronger, and more agile then most.  I also have the accumulated knowledge of a very long lifetime to draw upon."

He hated the lie of omission, given that those with him didn't seem to be hostile.  But given that he couldn't recall who was responsible for the memory blocks, caution seemed to be in order.

After hearing these two guys...Dracor seems to be alright.  Besides his apparent knowledge of something I thought didn't exist until I wound up in what looked like a drug influenced situation, he seems like just a good, regular guy.  I don't know about the other one though.  Something about him doesn't feel right.  But, if I  poke and prod now, it'll just lead to a argument...which could lead to a fight.  I'll just ask some simple questions, and leave it at that.

"So, Immortal, have you lived out this very long lifetime of yours?  Is it somewhere between one-hundred to one-hundred-fifty years?  You probably couldn't live much longer then that."

Yes, he probably couldn't, unless he is what his codecame implies.

David senses a hesitancy in the stocky one. So, he wants information?  I'll give him more information than he can handle.  Adopting a confidence he doesn't really feel, he looks directly at this "Bob" and answers the question thusly:

"I was born 2500 years ago in what came to be known as Greece, actually.  When I was as you see me now, the Gods granted me strength, speed, skill, and a long life.  I have traveled the world many, many times over; I have been present at every significant event in human history, recorded or secret. And I have chosen to use this knowledge, these skills as a champion of those who have been wronged.  I have done so in secret up till now, when I sensed the time was right for me to reveal myself."

Quote from: bredon7777 on February 03, 2008, 10:05:31 AM
David senses a hesitancy in the stocky one. So, he wants information?  I'll give him more information than he can handle.  Adopting a confidence he doesn't really feel, he looks directly at this "Bob" and answers the question thusly:

"I was born 2500 years ago in what came to be known as Greece, actually.  When I was as you see me now, the Gods granted me strength, speed, skill, and a long life.  I have traveled the world many, many times over; I have been present at every significant event in human history, recorded or secret. And I have chosen to use this knowledge, these skills as a champion of those who have been wronged.  I have done so in secret up till now, when I sensed the time was right for me to reveal myself."

I thought there was something about him, if he's telling the truth.

"I see.  You know, a normal person would probably say bull to your story, but I've been through enough to not disregard these types of stories.  That doesn't mean I'll believe it 100%, but that doesn't mean it can't happen.  Just look at where we are now.  If this is possible, then there's a good chance your story is possible too.  Now, since you kindly gave me information, I'll say that I inhaled some strange powder and...well, you've seen the results."

He's backing down. Good. David slowly lets out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

He attempts to cover by turning it into a small chuckle. "Not Iocane powder, I hope."

Quote from: bredon7777 on February 03, 2008, 12:46:59 PM
He's backing down. Good. David slowly lets out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

He attempts to cover by turning it into a small chuckle. "Not Iocane powder, I hope."

Bob smiled.  "If it were, then everything afterwards would be heaven or hell."  Bob turned towards Dracor.  "All right.  The two of us have given our bios.  Care to explain how you know so much about this hocus-pocus?

well, uh.. i happen to work at a metaphysical shop.. i read about this stuff all the time.. i just never really knew it could work at such a high level.. subtle influence, sure, effecting change over a long period of time, yeah.. not anything like this --gestureing around at the room-- at least, not until just recently.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 04, 2008, 12:17:49 AM
well, uh.. i happen to work at a metaphysical shop.. i read about this stuff all the time.. i just never really knew it could work at such a high level.. subtle influence, sure, effecting change over a long period of time, yeah.. not anything like this --gestureing around at the room-- at least, not until just recently.

"Okay.  However, now that we've all introduced ourselves, time to decide what to do.  Do you guys think we should wait here, or try to find a way out?"

i think we should wait.. we were brought here for a purpose.. i'd like to find out as much about that purpose as i can.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 04, 2008, 11:14:55 AM
i think we should wait.. we were brought here for a purpose.. i'd like to find out as much about that purpose as i can.

"I suppose."  He pauses for a second.  "Can you conjure up a deck of cards, a table, and some poker chips?"

'fraid not.. my powers are still new, and what i can do is based more on effects.. i can't actually create objects from nothing.. given time, i could conceivably change one object to another, but i have no idea how i'd do it.. in any case, i don't believe our host intends to keep us waiting long. most likely thus far has merely been to allow us to introduce ourselves and learn of each other.. if we are intended to become a team, it would make sence to learn firstly if we'd be able to work together. once that is determined, we'll probably be told more of the reasons why we were brought together.

"I've been around for 2500 years. I'm fairly comfortable with being patient."  With that, David sits down on the floor, cross-legged.  If any of the others know yoga, they may recognize a meditation posture; though David will still involve himself in the conversation.

Danny notes the position, being familiar with several forms of medatative practices, but for the moment he occupies his time examining the jade statue on the table. "the craftsmanship of this piece is remarkable, i've never seen just detail in a stone carving.. i wonder if it's signifigant to our current situation.."

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 05, 2008, 01:34:20 AM
Danny notes the position, being familiar with several forms of medatative practices, but for the moment he occupies his time examining the jade statue on the table. "the craftsmanship of this piece is remarkable, i've never seen just detail in a stone carving.. i wonder if it's signifigant to our current situation.."

Bob looked at the the jade on the table. "Maby there's some sort of big...jade thing involved in this deal.  If there isn't, then perhaps the statue represents something."

As you are all speculating on the nature of this meeting, the fourth door rattles, then opens.  As you turn to look there is an odd scrape and a bump and a man in a wheel chair shoves his way past the door.   It's a bit of a tight fit and the chair hangs up on the door frame.  When the man shifts to free himself he looses his grip on the door which bangs against his knee.  With a muttered curse and a quick twist the man free himself and rolls into the room.

"Yeah, I bet that looked real smooth.  All manly and confidence-inspiring like." He grins.

Despite being wheelchair bound the newcomer manages to exude an aura of calm and confidence.  He is broad shouldered with dark hair cut in an almost military buzz, bright blue eyes and a wide smile.  If he could stand you might guess him to be about six feet tall, but both legs end just above the knee.

"You must be the new team.  You can call me Ironsides!"  He grins at his own joke, then notices the three blank stares.

"Ironsides.  70's detective show?  Raymond Burr in a wheelchair solves murders with the help of his three plucky, young ethnically diverse sidekicks?  I take it no one watches TVLand at 3:00 am?  Ah well, you can call me David."

uh.. good to meet you, David. I'm Danny. --he scratches his chin a moment-- for some reason, i get the impression that you are not the one who summoned us here, unless you have a rather unusual interest in the oriental culture? if i'm right, do you at least know who it is that did summon us?

David does not so much stand up as unfold from the floor in a single movement; he turns this into a bow to the man in the wheelchair.

"I'm the Immortal." Inwardly, he winces- Wonder if I'll ever get used to calling myself that?  "And Daniel- I mean no disrespect, but I believe it is far more important to find out why we were summoned than to determine the identity of our mysterious summoner."

--chuckles-- forgive me, but i believe the two may be linked. cooincidences don't exist.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 09, 2008, 02:27:50 AM
--chuckles-- forgive me, but i believe the two may be linked. cooincidences don't exist.

"Indeed.  Say, David, did you get a letter saying 'Dear Champion', and if so, did it tell you to arrive at a certain place at 7:00 PM on a Sunday?  I got that letter, and I think it's safe to say that my associates got the same message, and that there's the chance you got it.  Did you?"

Wordlessly, David rummages around in his bag, finally holding up the scroll as answer.

"Coincidence is the secret thread that knots the world together.  A friend told me that once.  I stand by my statement: While it would be nice to know who summoned us, instinct tells me it's far more important to know why."

i wasn't disputing that fact, and i appologize if i seemed disrespectful.. i just feel the two may be related, and in any case, once we find out the one, the other will likely reveal itself in the same moment. i just thought by finding out who summoned us, it would help expediate our discovering the why. since we don't know who summoned us, we have no real way to find out why we were, unless David here has some information we don't, since he entered after we did. wich would also indicate he did not receive an identicle message to our own.

David sighs softly. "No. Forgive me.  For someone who has known humanity for a long time, I still have ...difficulty..interacting with others.  I spoke in haste, and was rude without meaning to be.  You are of course correct; who and why are most likely intimately related."

Quote from: kkhohoho on February 09, 2008, 06:06:11 AM
"Indeed.  Say, David, did you get a letter saying 'Dear Champion', and if so, did it tell you to arrive at a certain place at 7:00 PM on a Sunday?  I got that letter, and I think it's safe to say that my associates got the same message, and that there's the chance you got it.  Did you?"

The man in the wheelchair glances at Bob.  "I got the scroll, all right, but mine asked me to come at 7:15.  I gather I'm supposed to act as some sort of mentor, since I've been at this for a few years already."

The side of the octagonal table opposite the door he came through has no chair.  With a quick second glance around the room he pushes himself up to the table.

"I am kind of surprised that ya'll coming up here in the Twin Cities.  We still have the highest concentration of metas in the world.*"








*Generally, metahuman distribution closely follows that of population density.  Currently there are about six meta humans active in the Twin Cities, including four active heroes and one villain.  This is about twice the predicted number.

actually.. i'm from vegas. i believe we were brought here by some form of teleportation. i entered via the balconey door of my local dollar cinema. as such, i highly doubt we are in vegas at this time, though as to where we actually are, i have no way of knowing. who ever our benefactor is, he appears to be a very potent individual. and given that level of potence, it makes me nervous about what we face, that would make him want to call in assistance.

"I. . .well, I am from Greece, but I currently reside in Ohio.  At 6:59, I was in the mens room of my local public library.  At 7:00, I was ", and here he waves an arm emphatically to encompass the room, "here.  Wherever 'here' is."

He turns to address the man in the wheelchair, "I take it then you have no more information than what was provided to us?"

David purses his lips in thought, and then speaks.  "Well, here we all sit.  Where ever here is.  I honestly have no idea who our, um, benefactor is.  Despite what folks may think there's really not a secret superhero network where we all share info or anything.  And I've never heard of a "wise old oriental" from the ones that I have happened to meet or work with.  I agree that he seems quite powerful, but I'm willing to also believe that he means exactly as he says.  But all the same, I do think we should keep our guard up."

He pauses and looks around the table at you all, before leaning forward for the tea pot at the center of the table.

"I'll be damned, he's done it to us again," David suddenly exclaims.  Following his incredulous look you all turn to the tray at the center of the table to see yet another scroll.  This one resting quietly next to the tea service as if it had been there all the time.

Snatching it up, David sits back, unrolls the scroll and begins to read.

Quote"Dear Champions,

By now you have all had the opportunity to acquaint yourselves with one another, as well as your mentor.  I hope you will find each other's company helpful.

While I regret that I am still unable o provide you much by the way of details, I remain convinced that we stand on the brink of a critical moment.  I shall continue to investigate the situation, and guide your efforts when a course of action presents itself.  I feel some action will need to be taken within the next several days, and I hope that I will be able to reveal more details soon.

This room will remain available to you all.  Each doorway will remain linked to its respective location, and all doorways are available to each.  From here on out, however, you must have the specific intent of entering this room, else you will transit the door as normal.

I also encourage you to exchange phone numbers so that you may contact each other at will.

Sincerely,

A friend.

PS:  In light of your mentor's earlier television reference, I feel I must point out that our arrangement is much more reminiscent of "Charlie's Angels" than "Ironsides."  That, of course, would cast David's roll as that of "Bosley."

David looks up from the letter, gives you all a level stare and says, "No.  The first person who calls me Bosley gets his tail kicked from here (where ever here is) to Tokyo!"

"I must confess to a certain level of disappointment.  I had expected to be warned of a high-level crisis. Something only I and people like myself could resolve.  Instead, I am treated to high tea for superheroes? And given my own magic door out of the restroom of the library?"

"Not that the company is unwelcome, but does any one else feel a sense of anticlimax about the whole thing?"

Quote from: bredon7777 on February 17, 2008, 04:32:02 PM
"I must confess to a certain level of disappointment.  I had expected to be warned of a high-level crisis. Something only I and people like myself could resolve.  Instead, I am treated to high tea for superheroes? And given my own magic door out of the restroom of the library?"

"Not that the company is unwelcome, but does any one else feel a sense of anticlimax about the whole thing?"

"Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I find being able to have tea in a room that makes me almost think I'm on drugs is most exciting.  Getting serious, I just want to get out of here."  Bob took out 3 scraps of paper and and a pencil from his right pocket, and began scribbling down his phone number on each piece.  He then gave one to each of the others in the room.  "Now, before I'd leave, I'd like your phone numbers please.  I suggest everyone follow the letter's words for now, and give your phone numbers."

David has the good grace to look embarrassed at this. 

"Due to circumstances beyond my control, I actually do not have a phone of my own.  Still, if you call this number, " and here he scribbles the number for the halfway house's pay phone, "a message will be delivered to me post-haste."

Quote from: bredon7777 on February 17, 2008, 09:13:11 PM
David has the good grace to look embarrassed at this. 

"Due to circumstances beyond my control, I actually do not have a phone of my own.  Still, if you call this number, " and here he scribbles the number for the halfway house's pay phone, "a message will be delivered to me post-haste."

"Good.  Now for Daniel and Bos'.  Can I call you Bos'?"

((sorry for delayed posting, been out of commision for a couple days with a bit of flu)) --danny scribbles his number down for everyone, a thoughtful look on his face-- i think i may try a bit of scrying to see if i can't find something out myself.. uh.. basiclly staring into a crystal ball.. tarot cards, the whole fortune teller bit.. --cringeing at the analogy, knowing most fortune tellers are two-bit hacks or abuse what real power they have for personal gain--

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 18, 2008, 01:43:53 AM
((sorry for delayed posting, been out of commision for a couple days with a bit of flu)) --danny scribbles his number down for everyone, a thoughtful look on his face-- i think i may try a bit of scrying to see if i can't find something out myself.. uh.. basiclly staring into a crystal ball.. tarot cards, the whole fortune teller bit.. --cringeing at the analogy, knowing most fortune tellers are two-bit hacks or abuse what real power they have for personal gain--

Bob let out a small smile.  "So, does this mean you're a two-bit hack, abusing what real power you have for personal gain?"

OOC: Bob did not what hear Daniel thought.

David notices how uncomfortable Danny has become.

"Fear not, friend," and here he gives Danny a slap on the back, attempting to emulate a gesture of friendship he has seen in countless television shows, "I went many times to the Oracle at Delphi, and always found her vision and prowess to be most profound."

He then appears to drift into reverie and adds, in a lower voice, half to himself, "Even if occasionally I did not understand what she meant until far too late."

--blinks at bob, then nods to dave-- well.. as i recall, often the oracle at delphi was deliberately vaugh, intending for the petitioner to find his own answers to problems, merely giving clues to the best course of action or warnings of the dangers ahead. and no, i don't intend to use my powers for personal gain in a materialistic sence. i hope that i can use them to benefit everyone, and gain a better understanding of myself.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on February 18, 2008, 05:46:21 PM
--blinks at bob, then nods to dave-- well.. as i recall, often the oracle at delphi was deliberately vaugh, intending for the petitioner to find his own answers to problems, merely giving clues to the best course of action or warnings of the dangers ahead. and no, i don't intend to use my powers for personal gain in a materialistic sence. i hope that i can use them to benefit everyone, and gain a better understanding of myself.

"Lighten up.  I was just joking.  Anyways, you do your hocus-pocus, then I'm out of here."

actually, i need to go back home, my supplies are all there. i'll call if i discover anything though.

Quote from: kkhohoho on February 17, 2008, 09:22:29 PM
["Good.  Now for Daniel and Bos'.  Can I call you Bos'?"

This earns Bob a quick, hard look from the chair bound hero  Then he relaxes.

" 'Boss' works," grins David, "but I really don't think that's supposed to be my role.  Besides I got irons of my own in the fire.  I'll haul your bacon out of the fire if ya'll really need me to, but I think it would be a great idea if ya'll get in the habit of helping each other out.

David grabs his chair wheels and begins rocking back and forth in place, a kind of fidget on wheels.  "I understand the desire for action, I really do.  My own coming out party was kind of like this – on the verge of some unknown big nasty.  It took me a good long time to hook up with a few good folks able to back each other up, and even then none of us had the slightest idea what in the hell was going on.  No, this should be good for you guys.  You got the back up out of the way first, and even if you don't know what the Big Nasty is, you know that it is.  And have someone keeping an eye out for it.

"I will give you my number, though (he does so).  That's my 'business line' – only a few other special folks have it.  It's actually a hacked line set up by a friend of mine.  If I can't take your call, leave a message and she might even get back to you."

At this he backs away from the table.  "I need to get rolling.  At this point I recommend that ya'll just keep on doing what you're doing.  If this really is a Big Nasty things will clear up soon."

He pauses and casts a long look at the door behind Dracon.  "Vegas, huh?  I owe the missus a weekend away.  This could be handy!"

With a grin and a wave he turns and heads out "his" door.

"I think I'll follow David's leave.  Not you, Immortal, the other David.  If you need me, call me.  If I need you, I'll call you.  If it's an emergency, we meet back here.''  With that, Bob was gone from the room within 1-2 seconds.

--Dracor nods to david wheels ((till further notice, this is purely a diferentiating term)) and takes down the number and takes the advice to heart.-- "i can see about finding some room rates for ya, mabe they've got some specials going." --smileing, before nodding to bob, about to say goodbye when he notices the man is already gone.-- "ok.. bob doesn't strike me as your "typical" hero type.. but i think he means well enough.. any way, i'm gonna head out. i need some new incense and stuff to try and focus a divinitory spell.. i haven't really tried anything for such a serious matter like this before, so i need to be careful. in anycase, good luck to you, Immortal." --with that, he turns and makes to exit the room, deciding to try and see if he can transit back on the balconey side of the door, or if the portal is one side only.

David looks around and then sits down at the table. It seems a shame to waste good tea, he thinks as he goes through the choices available.  He chuckles softly to himself.  "Green tea, and my favorite brand at that.  Whoever set up this meeting knows much more about us then we of him.  I am not sure I should be comfortable with that."

He prepares the tea, and as he does so, the false bravado he has displayed throughout the evening deserts him and his hands start to shake as he wonders what he has gotten himself into. Whatever it is, you can handle it. And you made some friends.  At least one friend, anyway, as he is not entirely sure he can trust this "Bob".

Stop listening to the memory blocks and believe , he orders himself.  The thought, and the warm tea, seem to calm him.  He sits for a few more moments, inhaling the warm steam, then, feeling a familiar pressure, gets up to exit.  Heh. Never thought I would be grateful to be given an exit that comes out in a bathroom.

He is halfway through his door when he realizes; I hope this room is outside of time as well as space. I do not relish the idea of sleeping on the bathroom floor.

As Danny leaves the room, he finds himself stepping out as if he were leaving the balcony.
"Hmmm.. ok.. I was hoping I could step out inside the balconey, but I guess this is ok."
Exiting the theatre, Danny heads home to plan out his next move and get some rest. The next day, he goes in to work and goes to set aside some incense and candles behind the counter.
"Need some guidance, hmm?" Lady Dragonfly nods to the materials as she passes, a stack of books in hand to stock the shelves.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, pretty much. More like trying to find out more about a problem that's come up."
"Well, be careful. the spirits can be wild and unpredictable. You might get more than you bargained for."
"I'll be careful Aunt D. I promise."
That evening, having purchased his materials, Danny returns home, and prepares his altar, the insence and candles burning as he sets out his crystal ball, incanting a protective circle and invoking his spell. He stares into the ball, it's clear interior slowly starting to become cloudy, at least to his perception, as the power of the scrying spell takes hold, casting his mind into the Astral Plane. Danny moves through the mist, mental calling forth his spirit guide, a small dragon spirit.
"Oh Spirit, I seek to learn of the threat we shall face. Can you help me?"
The spirit nods to Danny, and leads him off into the mist. Danny follows, and the mist grows more dense, until Danny becomes aware of another force, extremly powerful and darkly malvolent.
"Spirit, is this the thing we face?" the spirit seems unsure, and quickly retreats into the mist. Danny carefully probes the force, trying to determine more about it. It is wholly unlike anything he has encountered before, and far more powerful than he had imagined possible. As his mind seeks the force's secrets, he realizes with horror that it has started to probe him.
Needles of firey pain lance through his mind as the force tries to grab hold of him, bring itself to where his body lies. Danny gasps and quickly invokes the protections of his circle, barely managing to bring up a barrier between his mind and the force. He then quickly retreats from the Astral Plane back to his body, no doubt in his mind that the Barrier of his protective circle would have mearly slowed the force. As he comes out of his trance, Danny groans, rubbing his temples, a splitting headache having formed in an instant, fueled by the terrible certainty that his efforts have just let the enemy they face know that someone has figured out what it's up to. Danny is also afraid that the Force may have found out some things about him specificlly.
"I'll have to be on my guard. No telling what this thing might do now. Better let the others know"
With that, Danny calls his new allies, telling them each what has happened and what very little he's uncovered.

As Ed raced towards home, he noticed something rather strange out of the corner of his eye.  Backtracking towards what he spotted, he saw a painting of something that resembled a rat on a building-except this wasn't a regular drawing.  At first, it looked like it was done in red paint, but upon a closer look...This is blood...

Ed then searched around the area.  Sure enough, he found another one, though this one was on an abandoned building.  He soon found 10 more.  2 of the 10 were on abandoned buildings, but the rest were scattered around the active part of the area.  This made for 12 blood-painted paintings of a strange creature in total.  Ed rushed to his apartment and got out his digital camera.  He hurried to the nearest symbol, took a photo, and headed over to Wanton's place.

"This is rather strange." said Wanton.  After Ed arrived, he explained to Wanton what he saw and anything else that happened that day.  Wanton took the camera and hooked it up to his computer, so he could get a good look at the picture.

"So, why is it strange?" asked Ed.

"If you think about it, it's like something a cult would do, but there haven't been any cults here for ages."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"I'm going to look this up online. Fine with you?"

"Sure."

After much searching, Wanton finally came across something most disturbing.  "Oh dear."

"Is there a problem?"

"Perhaps.  It depends if you believe in things most people say can't happen."

"After all I've been through today, I think I'll believe anything."

"I wonder if you will, because this one's a doozy.  Apparently, your 'painting' is a symbol for an ancient god."

"Really?"  Ed said it as though it were a sentence.

"Really.  The symbol stands for Veni, (V-ni)  a god usually worshiped by certain cults.  Apparently, it was left behind by whoever created all of existence to watch over us, and used to a be a loving, caring God, but now, it has seen much of the the worse half of humanity.  The god went corrupt, and it decided to stop watching over us. In fact, at a certain time, it would begin destroying us.  It's apparently waiting for something.  The site won't say what, but it's waiting for something to happen, and when it does, the God will begin destroying planet Earth, and all of the other planets in our galaxy so that we can't escape to the moon or someplace like that.  It doesn't say how it will destroy us though."

"Okay, this-THIS I consider to be a load of bull.  I'm telling you-"

Before Ed could finish his sentence, he saw something rather strange.  He saw Danny speaking before him, but there were no words.  However, Ed did get the impression that there was a big bad, and that it found Danny out. Damn...

"Is something wrong?" asked Wanton.

"Damn right there is." said Ed. "Your information has likely been verified."

"Well, thank you."

"I don't know if you should.  But, as they say, don't shoot the messenger."  Ed then proceeded to call Danny, Immortal, and David, and told them what he knew.  Things looked rather nasty.

After taking care of business, David eases the bathroom door open a crack to see a darkened library. Blast! I was afraid of this.

He retreated inside the bathroom to assess his options. I could sleep here, I suppose. I have certainly slept in worse.   He looked at his watch- it was a little after closing time- which left close to 13 hours to kill before the library opened again. So, no.

I could try the door again.  Stay in there, maybe try one of the other doors.  But if I cannot trigger the door, then I wind up out in the library tripping the alarm again. And besides, who knows if I can even open the other's doors. So, no again.

He eased the door back open, scanning for alarms, and quickly finding the motion sensors in each corner. Fixed motion sensors, each with a scanning range of 15 feet.  Doors are locked; hate to bust them; the library's in enough fiscal trouble as it is.

It was a moment later that he saw the partially open skylight.  He hadn't paid much attention to  it on his way in, other than to idly note that they were repairing it. They must not have gotten done by the time the library closed so they'd just thrown a tarp over it and left it open.

They must have thought that no one could get in that way.  Guess they never considered that someone might want to get out.

A quick look around the library to calculate angles, and David was ready.  He backed off to the end of the bathroom and exited the door at a run; leaping onto the librarian's desk, and from there to the top of a nearby bookcase.  A jump from there left him hanging on to the second floor balcony, and from there it was simple enough to jump to the scaffolding, scamper up it and out the skylight. 

He was standing on the roof when he heard the police sirens.   I beat the alarm.  Not too shabby. Still, no point standing here. It would just raise questions I do not want to deal with right now.

A handy flagpole provided a quick trip to the ground, then it was off to work off some of the excess adrenalin.  Sadly, it was a quiet night in Youngstown so a couple of hours later, he returned home to find a couple of phone messages on his door.

I'll deal with these tomorrow.  The world can save itself for the rest of the night .  Hanging up his costume,David went to bed.

The street is dark, most of the street lights shot out by folks who prefer the anonymity of darkness to the security of lights.  One such figure shambles along the street.  Once in a while he pauses next to a building or junction box, holds a piece of cardboard up to it and sprays something from a jury-rigged pump sprayer over the card.  He stops only every other block or so, holding up his stencil, leaving his mark.  And although no other human being is about tonight, there is constant motion in the shadows around him.

At one stop, the man pauses to pump his sprayer.  After his sixth design, the man disassembles his sprayer and stares off into the darkness.  The movement following him surges forward and a dozen rats the size of terriers creep into the dim circle of light where he has stopped.  The man draws a butterfly knife and flicks it open with one hand while reaching down for a waiting rat with the other.  Without a sound from either the man slits the rat's throat and drains its blood into the sprayer.  The other rats, some half dozen of them, wait quietly as one by one each is harvested for its blood.  Tank refilled, the man reassembles the sprayer, pumps the handle, then steps over the discarded rat bodies to continue his task.

While the big threat was slowly being uncovered, Ed still couldn't neglect his patrol.  However, this particular patrol proved to be rather out of the ordinary.  It was an unusual night. Bob couldn't find a single crime going on, let alone a single person.  There was mist all around, and Bob couldn't help but feel he was being watched.  He looked forward, to the sides, and finally behind, but saw nothing.  As he prepared to speed up and go home, he heard someone say "Hello, Mr.Bob."

Bob turned around and saw a well dressed man with black sunglasses on.  He looked like Mr.Smith from the Matrix, and was smiling a sinister smile. "I've never seen you before." said Bob.

"No, I guess you haven't," replied the man, "but I've seen you.  My name is Norway, and I've been watching you rather successfully despite your...unusual talents."

"Really?" said Bob as though he were speaking a sentence.  "Well, if you've been watching me all this time, you must want something from me."

"Not exactly.  You see, I want you, Mr.Bob."

"Me? What for, exactly?"

"I'd simply like to establish some business between us."

"And what is this 'business'?"

"No need to worry.  Simply agree to help me occasionally, and you will be greatly rewarded.  What do you say?"  His smile never broke though the whole little chat, and it didn't break.

Hmmm...I wonder what exactly he would reward me with.  If it's money, I'd probably pass.  I'm doing okay now, but if I ever get very desperate, Wanton could give me what I need.  Still, this man looks like he'd be part of some organization with not so good intents.  If I did his work, I might be able to learn more.

Bob pointed a finger towards 'Mr.Smith'.  "Look here, Norway.  Listen up. I do one little request of yours.  If I'm fine with the task once I've done it, I'll do another one, and so on and so forth.  But if I do a mission and I don't like it when I'm done, I'm gone.  Keep in mind that I'll only be an acquaintance.  I do the job, and you reward me.  That's how it's gonna' go down, for as long as I do this, if I do this."

Norway's smile finally broke into a frown, but soon curled up into that sinister smile.  "Very well.  Now that we've agreed, let's shake hands, as a way of establishing our agreement."  Bob's hand connected with Norway's.  While the hands were still in place, Norway's smile turned into a frown again, and his tone of voice deepened. "You will find that we take very good care of our friends, but refusing to help us would be very unwise." Bob suddenly felt a quick pain in his hand and pulled it away.  There was a very fine scratch in the palm.  Bob looked up while saying "Hey, what gives-", but the man was gone.  Bob looked at his palm again.  He wondered what Norway meant.

You will find that we take very good care of our friends, but refusing to help us would be very unwise.  Bob was thinking about that particular line on his bed.  He was lying down with his palm raised, looking at the scratch.  What could he have meant? ...I wonder if I should tell the others about this. Bob thought about it for a bit, before coming to a conclusion.  No.  That man be linked to whatever enemy we're facing, and if I told them, there's the possibility that the enemy will find out, and I could no longer investigate that Norway person.  I'll just have to see what's in store for me.  Bob turned off his lamp, and went to sleep, hoping that everything would turn out all right.  But hopes can be sorely misleading.

*RIIIIINNNNG!!! RIIIIINNNNG!!!* The phone then started ringing...

A few days after his otherwordly mishap, Danny is at UNLV for an armored combat demo. As he finishes up, he bids his friends goodbye and begins to make his way towards the visitor parking. As he loads his gear into his black van, he notices a pair of scruffy looking guys jumping a female student that he recognizes as a spectator of the demo earlier. Before he can react to move to her assistance, the men drag her into a van and take off.

"Crud.. the cops'll never catch them in time, I better follow them."

Jumping into his van, he cranks the tempermental motor over, relieved that it starts with little fuss, taking off in the direction the other van went. As he weaved through traffic, he noticed that the van ahead of him had a ham radio antenea on top, that stood out much higher than the other vehicles around it.

"Good.. at least I can keep track of that.. idiots didn't think to pull down their equipment."

Useing the anttenea as a reference, Danny tracked the van to an old warehouse in the northern industrial section of town.

"What in the world are they doing here? I better investigate."

Parking the van away from the warehouse, getting out and taking his fighting stick, pulling his dragon mask on as he moves to get a better look at the warehouse, invoking his Ritual of the Third Eye, hopeing to conceal himself from the men as he climbs up to a skylight, looking into the warehouse.

"Oh boy.. this is more serious than I thought.. better call in some help."

As he slipped away from the skylight, he hoped that he and his friends would be able to take out the twenty odd men he had counted in the warehouse, hopeing that there weren't any big surprises waiting inside. He pulled his cellphone, and dialed his four allies up, leaving the same message for each,

"Guys, we got trouble in Vegas.. I'm not sure how, but you need to get here quick. Something big is going down and I need a hand. Try useing the doors in our 'meeting room,' I think you can use my door to get to the theatre here, and I can tell you where to go from there."

In the meantime, Danny will return to the skylight, pushing the mystic sences granted by the Ritual of the Third Eye out into the warehouse, trying to glean information from the surface thoughts of the men below.

David woke up, but kept his eyes closed. I'm going to open them on three, and everything is going to be different.  I'll be back in my village with my family, and all this will have been  a very long, very bad dream

He spoke the words out loud, but before he could get to three, he was interrupted by a voice coming from the television in the common room; "That trick never works!"

Overcome by both sadness and laughter, resigned to another day, David opened his eyes and swept the room, and sighed.  Everything's the same .

Then his eyes lit upon the small wrapped package and accompanying green scroll on the nightstand, and the night's memories came crashing back.  The meeting in the room out of space.  His fellow heroes.  The escape from the library.

No. Everything's different.

Nervous with anticipation, and a touch of fear (They got in my room. They got in my ROOM.) he crossed the small room to the nightstand and picked up both package and scroll.

Forcing himself to breathe to calm his fear, if not his trembling fingers, he unwrapped both scroll and package.

The package was wrapped in what appeared to be Dollar Store birthday paper, he noted with amusement; and it contained a small cell phone, nondescript and remarkably utilitarian in it's simpleness.  He noticed, without surprise, that his compatriots phone numbers had already been programmed into it.

The scroll was in the same careful hand as the last one.  It read: 

Quote
Dear Immortal:

It has come to my attention that you do not have a private means of communication.  Given the nature of your work with the others, it is inadvisable for them to leave messages for you in a public manner.  Please accept this gift. As cell phones go, I am assured that it is remarkably "weak," which I take to mean that it is a rather basic model. None-the-less it is entirely secure, and well, free.  Feel free to use it for your personal use as well as "business" use.  I do ask for the sake of my checking account that you limit the number of inter-dimensional calls.  The surcharges are quite outrageous.

Sincerely,

A friend

David put the cell phone down, blinking back a few tears that accompanied the sudden rush of gratitude.  He had friends again.  He had a purpose again.  It had been so long since he felt those feelings that he was hardly even aware of how much he had missed them.

Sliding both phone and scroll into a dresser drawer, he went to take a shower.

_____________________________________________________________________________________
Voices in an alley

"Masks on?"

"Check"
"Check".

"Car ready?"

"Check".

"Idling on the corner, license plates switched."

"Weapons ready?"

"Check"

"Check"

"All right.  The bank opens in 5, and we go in in 6, before any customers can come in and get hurt.  In, out, away in under 10 minutes is the goal.  Right?"

"Check"

*gurgling noise*

Loud sigh. "Ok, we go in in 8 minutes, as soon as newbie here gets his nerve back."

*Squelching noise*  "And try not to step in the vomit"

Voices fade.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

David was walking downtown, on his way to his favorite café for breakfast, when he saw the three men with masks and guns come out of an alley, and cross the street to the nearby bank.

"I think those folks may be going to make a withdrawal."  He winced; Note to self- work on appropriate hero banter.

He headed for the alley they came from, and quickly changed into his costume, stashing his satchel  behind a dumpster.

Sprinting back across the street, he caught the door just before it could close behind the three men, catching it in time to hear the last of their commands to the terrified cashiers inside.

"------ and lie down on the floor.  Do what we say and nobody gets hurt."

David slipped in behind the men, and tapped the speaker on the shoulder. "Oh, I'm not sure about that."

When the startled thug turned around, David accompanied his words with a punch that snapped the mans head back, and sent him crashing into a table, causing a shower of blank deposit slips.

Before the other two could react, David had dropped to the floor and swept their legs out from under them, causing their guns to clatter noisily to the ground.

He grabbed them, his hands moving almost of their own volition and metal parts began to quickly rain upon the floor.

He was almost as astonished by his knowledge of  how to disassemble weapons as he was by the deep, almost angry feeling of revulsion that came over him.  Where did I learn to take them apart so fast? And why do I hate them so much?.

He was so engrossed  in wonder that he almost didn't hear the thug behind him.  He sensed, rather than heard, a presence and shifted fractionally to his right, so when the hairy fist whistled by his ear he was in a position to grab it and heave, sending the thug flying through the air onto the bodies of his compatriots.

This seemed to shatter the nerves of the third crook. Bellowing expletives, he got up, turned and ran.

"Go get him, Immortal!"

David spared a shocked look around; the cashiers were pouring out from behind their cages along with a rather elderly security guard with an angry bruise on his forehead..  "We'll take care of these two, youngster. Don't let the third one get away!"

David waved to the crowd and sprinted to the door, exiting in time to see a Chevy Impala pull away from the curb, a familiar masked figure at the wheel.

He leapt to the top of a parked car, and from there directly onto the roof of the getaway car as it drove by.  This further frightened the already alarmed thief, and he began to speed up, swerving and turning in an ultimately futile attempt to dislodge David from the roof.

David gripped with one hand, focused, and plunged the other down through the flimsy material of the car roof.  He repeated this, then shifted his focus and began to slowly, methodically, widen the gap he had created, reducing the driver into near incoherence.

They had traveled quite a ways, into a collection of nearly deserted warehouses that marked the border of the undesirable point of town.  David was still hanging on, reaching through the gap in the car roof to try and disable the third thief, but he was having no success.

The thief clicked his seatbelt on, and muttering "This will shake you off," gunned the accelerator towards the closed double doors of a warehouse.

David grinned and braced for the impact.

____________________________________________________________________________________
Voices in a dark room redux:

"Sir."

"I was told you have something to report."

"Yes sir.  We've been keeping an eye on the Immortal, as you asked, and something strange happened on Sunday."

An impatient noise. "Go on."

"Well, he went into the men's room at the Youngstown Library.  When he hadn't come out after fifteen minutes, our operative went in there, and he was gone."

"So he went out a window."

"No sir, no windows.  But that's not all.  We kept an eye on the building, just in case- and about an hour after closing time he got out through the skylight and left."

"So he disappeared from a room he couldn't have disappeared from only to reappear later?"

"It would seem that way, sir."

This seems to strike the first voice as funny, and he laughs a wheezing laugh that turns in to a harsh, rattling cough.  "Continue surveillance."

"Yes sir."

Deep breath. Raspy chuckle. "It would appear you can teach an old dog new tricks after all."

Voices fade.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

The car plowed through the flimsy wooden door at about 60 miles per hour.  David kept his head down as chunks of wood flew by.  The thief inside the car threw his hands up in front of his face, and David saw his chance.

He shimmied his upper half though the gap he created and yanked the wheel hard, aiming for a large concrete column in the center of the warehouse.,  At the last second before impact, he pushed off the steering wheel hard and back-flipped out of the car, landing behind it as it crumpled around the concrete.

The thief  got his head slammed into the steering wheel fairly hard, even with the seat belt, and sank into unconsciousness with a low moan.

A wail of sirens told David that their little joyride had not gone unnoticed.  Looking around for a vantage point to observe the arrival of the police, David noticed a peculiar mark painted on the wall.

That looks like the mark I was told about.  He didn't have to bend down very far before catching the bright, coppery scent.  And in blood as well.

So I'm in a warehouse in the bad part of town with an unconscious crook; the police are on their way, and there's the mark of an ancient god, painted in blood on the wall.  What else can happen?

Slowly, ominously, his phone began to ring.

Bob, you answer the phone to a rather breathless, and whispering, Dracon.

"Bob.. I got trouble here in Vegas. I tailed a pair of kidnappers out to a warehouse, and when I peeked in, I saw a straight up freak convention.. I'm not sure what's going on, but it looks bad, and I'm worried about the girl down there.. I count probably 50 men, and they all look pretty mean. I'm worried this might be some sort of ritual waiting to get underway.. get to the meeting room and see if you can use my door, you should end up in the front lobby of a dollar cinema. Once your there, call me back and I'll give you directions to my location. I'm gonna call the others in as well, we're gonna need the whole team for this, I think."

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on March 23, 2008, 03:21:00 PM
"Bob.. I got trouble here in Vegas. I tailed a pair of kidnappers out to a warehouse, and when I peeked in, I saw a straight up freak convention.. I'm not sure what's going on, but it looks bad, and I'm worried about the girl down there.. I count probably 50 men, and they all look pretty mean. I'm worried this might be some sort of ritual waiting to get underway.. get to the meeting room and see if you can use my door, you should end up in the front lobby of a dollar cinema. Once your there, call me back and I'll give you directions to my location. I'm gonna call the others in as well, we're gonna need the whole team for this, I think."

Bob was asleep when heard a ring. He sprang out of bed, rushed to the phone, and picked it up.  After hearing the message, he replied with "You call the team. I'll be there." He took the phone away from his ear, but then a question came to his mind, so he brought the phone close once more.  "Where's the warehouse in Vegas? Even with my speed and that room, I'll get there faster if I have a good idea of where the place is."

*Dracor rattles off some basic directions from the theatre, then puases a moment* let me try something really quick.. *he takes a moment, composeing a new spell, willing energy into it, before reciting a quick chant* Odin, master of mysteries, you who sacrificed an eye for knowledge, grant to me a boon, that i might send a beacon to my ally, that we might defeat this threat to Midgard. By the power of Thor's Hammer, let this be so. *if succesful, this should hopefully give bob the equivlent of an internal compass that points to Dracor*((subject to GM approval of course)) *after that, Dracor will call the Immotrtal, noting with interest that the number in his phone has been changed*

David looked at his new phone, seeing 'Dracor calling' on the lit faceplate, snapped it open and held it to his ear.

"Yes?"

He listened intently for a few minutes, and simply replied "On my way."

He took off at a run for where he had stashed his satchel.  Better leave it in the meeting room.  I definitely do not want to leave it on the streets; the gods only know how long I'll be gone.

Satchel slung over his shoulder, he once again entered the mens room in the library.  Turning around, he faced the door out. Meeting room, meeting room, meeting room

As he entered the paneled meeting room, he let out a small sigh of relief. Until now, I was not actually sure that that would work.

Dropping his satchel in a corner, he faced Dracor's door. Vegas dollar theater, he thought and pushed through; stopping dead in his tracks at the scene that met his eyes.

Quote from: bredon7777 on April 06, 2008, 07:35:52 AM
David looked at his new phone, seeing 'Dracor calling' on the lit faceplate, snapped it open and held it to his ear.

"Yes?"

He listened intently for a few minutes, and simply replied "On my way."

He took of at a run for where he had stashed his satchel.  Better leave it in the meeting room.  I definitely do not want to leave it on the streets; the gods only know how long I'll be gone.

Satchel slung over his shoulder, he once again entered the mens room in the library.  Turning around, he faced the door out. Meeting room, meeting room, meeting room

As he entered the paneled meeting room, he let out a small sigh of relief. Until now, I was not actually sure that that would work.

Dropping his satchel in a corner, he faced Dracor's door. Vegas dollar theater, he thought and pushed through; stopping dead in his tracks at what met his eyes.

As Bob arrived at Dracon's door, he noticed The Immortal going through it. At least I won't be alone. He exited the door, but nothing had prepared him for what he then saw.

You both walk through a door and onto a steep staircase carpeted with worn red carpet.  Hovering in the air in front of you is a gigantic, glowing hammer, easily six feet long, although the handle looks oddly short.  As the Immortal steps through the double doors the hammer begins to move down the winding stair, quickly gathering up speed.  It disappears around the corner and you hear a tremendous >CRUNCH<, followed by a yell, a definitely shattering-plate-glass short of crash and a sudden raise in the volume of street noise you can hear inside the theater.  As the hammer streaks away it leaves a stretched out image of itself.  You both tear down the stairs, the image collapsing upon itself in front of you.  You pass through the remains of another set of double doors to the lobby where you see a stunned Chinese man getting shakily to his feet and rather cartoonish hammer-shaped hole through the box office window.  Down the street beyond you see a number of overturned cars, stunned looking pedestrians and the impromptu fountain of a decapitated fire hydrant.  Passing through this swath of destruction is the glowing trail of the hammer.

David sweeps his eyes from left to right over the cartoonish carnage at the movie theater.  Repressing a smile at the hammer shaped hole in the doorway, he turns and notices Bob for the first time, having much the same reaction.

"Dracor mentioned a guide.  Though I do not believe that this is what he meant to happen, perhaps we should follow the trail of destruction."

Dracon casts his spell of guidance, little realizing how it will actually take effect.  He then turns to making his third and final call . . .

Dracon waits somewhat nervously while David's phone rings six, seven, eight times.  Apparently he does not have voice mail.  Finally he picks up.

"Yo, Dracon.  What's up?"

He listens to your situation, the replies, "Well, I'm not able to make it right now, but I'll give you some free advice.  Three things.  First, before you go in, know what you want to accomplish, have a plan.  Are you going in to arrest all the bad guys?  Rescue the girl?  Disrupt some world-ending magic ceremony?   Make sure everyone has a job and they know what it is, and stick to the plan.

"Two,  have a fall back point.  If things go pear-shaped or you get separated, you'll need a place to regroup, check and make sure each other is OK and figure out what to do next.

"Three, communicate.  You don't have time to set up complicated field signals right now, but talk it out.  'I got that guy' or 'he's getting away.'  And yes, they'll be able to understand you, but bad communication gets more guys in trouble than broadcasting your plans by a second or two.

"I'm sure you'll be fine.  Give me a buzz when you're finished and we'll meet in the conference room and talk things over."

As he hangs up you become aware of a large commotion - looking across the rooftops you see a intermittant glowing light that seems to be traveling in your direction.  You can't really see the street, but you can see several plumes of smoke, a spewing hydrant and a couple of speeding cops cars converging on the scene.  Within seconds you can make out the shape of a gigantic hammer plowing through Las Vegas, heading towards you.  It seems to be keeping to the streets, but as it enters the block your warehouse is on it takes to the air, making a straight line to you.  You step back from the edge of the roof just as the hammer clips the edge, sending timber and sheet metal flying.

The hammer stops about arm's length from you, hovering in the air.  In the sudden quiet you can hear a soft hum coming from the hammer, sirens in the distance, and starteled exclaimations from the warehouse below.

dracor listens to david's advice, taking it to heart. "thanks, i'll try to keep that all in mind." as the conversation ends, he glances up at the commotion, noting the glow and the apparent destruction and cops "what the.." and then the hammer is there.. a hammer that bears a suspicious resemblance to his Thor's Hammer pendant. it takes a moment for him to process the information, before it clicks. "oh hell.. this is my beacon.." looking back at the trail of damage and the cops that are converging. "i'm gonna be in some deep trouble i think."

Quote from: bredon7777 on April 08, 2008, 05:57:53 AM
David sweeps his eyes from left to right over the cartoonish carnage at the movie theater.  Repressing a smile at the hammer shaped hole in the doorway, he turns and notices Bob for the first time, having much the same reaction.

"Dracor mentioned a guide.  Though I do not believe that this is what he meant to happen, perhaps we should follow the trail of destruction."

"Yes, let's." replied Bob with a smile, and they headed off.

As Bob and Immortal followed the newly made path, the hammer continued it's destructive campaign through Las Vegas.  It made little right angle turns often, and while it avoided buildings, it smashed through every car, lamppost, stop sign, and any other object that got in it's way.  Needless to say, the natives were restless, and they were either:

a)panicking and running around the city,
b)claiming the world was at it's end, or...
c)reporting the news to just about any paper and news company they could find.

That's not to say all buildings were safe.  Eventually, our not-so-dynamic duo saw the hammer arriving at a Casino, which was built across an intersection.  Oh, bloody hell.  Don't tell me it's gonna'- The 'Tool of Massive Property Damage' smashed it's way through the casino, mauling every single slot machine in it's way, although the bystanders were then grabbing for any newly scattered coins they could get.  The wrecked casino was now like a zoo, really, with people crawling over each other for loose change.  The hammer continued to turn and smash for a while until it just...stopped.  It's not moving.  Maybe we've arrived at our destination. Immortal seems to just be staring at it though. Perhaps- Without warning, the hammer started off again, this time, faster then before and in a straight line.  When the Hammer stopped again, Bob had reached it first, with Immortal  not far away, but not exactly right behind Bob either.  Bob looked up, and noticed Dracor standing on a rooftop.  There's our boy.

Dracon, you notice Bob and the Immortal come careening around a corner just a few second after the hammer arrives.  The voices from the warehouse below get louder and groups of armed men begin streaming from the various doors.  The side of the building you are closest to has a regular sized emergency exit and five men wielding handguns run out, then turn and look up towards you.

Bob and Immortal, as you approach you see Dracon standing on the roof of a warehouse with serious hammer damage near by.  Suddenly a door is kicked open and the five men stream out.

seeing that my allies have arrived, i'll dismiss the spell, and then seeing the five men burst from the door, i'll invoke the Ritual of Protection, followed by the Ritual of the Unseen Hand, the former to protect myself from the attacks of the men below, the latter to allow me to "glide" from the roof top down to the men, hopeing to come in above and behind them, invoking the Elemental Hex to send streams of lightning through them once i get close, then wadeing in with my fighting stick to smash the (hopefully stunned and confused) men.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on April 16, 2008, 05:03:10 PM
seeing that my allies have arrived, i'll dismiss the spell, and then seeing the five men burst from the door, i'll invoke the Ritual of Protection, followed by the Ritual of the Unseen Hand, the former to protect myself from the attacks of the men below, the latter to allow me to "glide" from the roof top down to the men, hopeing to come in above and behind them, invoking the Elemental Hex to send streams of lightning through them once i get close, then wadeing in with my fighting stick to smash the (hopefully stunned and confused) men.

You complete the Ritual of Protection, but instead of the nice crisp "snap" of your shields locking into place, you feel a rather desultory, quavering "buzz" as they flicker into being.  A wave of nausea washes over you; with mighty effort you manage to retain both your lunch and your shields.

Taking advantage of your hesitation the five men unload a volley of bullets up at you.  Your weakened shield collapses under the hail of shots.  Pain explodes from several points of your body as you are knocked onto your back.

i roll for covor while i try to regain my wits and try to figure out what happened to my spell.. perhaps some disruption from whatever is happening inside? i'll hope that bob and the immortal can cuase a distraction to draw off the guys shooting at me so i can make a more effective counter move.

I shoot out my two arms, with each arm aiming at a different man.  I hope to hit their jaws, which would knock them on the ground while delivering much pain.

Seeing that my allies are attacked, I spring toward the nearest gunman, hoping to land a punch by surprise.

With all five's attention focused on the roof, you are able to act essentially by surprize.

Quote from: kkhohoho on May 30, 2008, 07:48:56 PM
I shoot out my two arms, with each arm aiming at a different man.  I hope to hit their jaws, which would knock them on the ground while delivering much pain.

You lash out with both limbs.  Your right strikes its target squarely on the jaw, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground.  He's not unconscious, but looks stunned.  The second one misses by a whisker.

Quote from: bredon7777 on May 31, 2008, 09:19:15 AM
Seeing that my allies are attacked, I spring toward the nearest gunman, hoping to land a punch by surprise.

Weaving though Bob's elongated arms, you close on your target and land a solid punch to the face.  Your target yelps in pain and staggers back a couple of steps.

Quote from: Lord Elcorion on May 30, 2008, 07:41:35 PM
i roll for covor while i try to regain my wits and try to figure out what happened to my spell.. perhaps some disruption from whatever is happening inside? i'll hope that bob and the immortal can cuase a distraction to draw off the guys shooting at me so i can make a more effective counter move.

You're already down on the roof which pretty well blocks you from the gunmen on the ground.
To Dracon:[spoiler]You didn't really get any sense of outside interference to the spell.  Feels more like a flub.[/spoiler]


Next round everyone will have a chance to act

i'll look around the roof and see if there are any loose objects here, if so, i will invoke the unseen hand to lift and hurl them at the gunmen below. if not, i settle for useing the unseen hand to attempt to throw the gunmen's aim off, or disarm them, by pulling at their guns.

I'm going to try and follow up with a leg-sweep, hopefully cutting the stunned gunman's legs out form under him.

I aim an arm at the man I missed, and my other arm at another thug.