The leading ranks of the Ring advanced steadily down the ramp to the north, three separate squad-sized phalanx formations prepared to divide and break the charge of the cannon fodder below. Each group consisted of a strong defender at the point capable of blocking heavy attacks and charges with a massive shield backed by a Spearman and a Guard bearing a pole-arm. Along the sides of each arrowhead were the strongest of the offensive fighters, bearing a startling array of weapons paired with shields, ready to quickly crush and disable any enemy challenging their position while maintaining a solid defensive wall. At the core of each of the three units was a Sentinel, an aura based support character, capable of providing immediate healing for critical injuries and strong close area battlefield enhancement buffs to lend significant advantages during the changing tides of combat. While no individual orc or lesser creature below stood a chance of defeating the heavily geared warriors, they would rely on numbers to fatigue the battleline of the Apropos Ring and sow chaos where ever possible. Only then would the more powerful Dark-sided enemy engage in melee.
Still, the battle did not wait for the melee to crash together with the waves of creatures rushing to meet them. Archers and Rangers immediately sought out powerful opponents to weaken from long range, focusing at first on casters without active effective mystic defenses against their attacks and then on creatures that looked to be capable of flight. Even in the fantasy realm, air superiority could heavily influence the progression of a battle and typically that advantage lay in favor of monsters created through bathing in this Font of Evil. Of course, not all monsters were created equal... as with any other character, their strengths and weaknesses relied on the development of natural talents and trained skills. This freedom of choice in prioritization was unfortunate for a small cluster of harpies, whose players had focused too heavily on offensive abilities and left their flight slow and erratic; they were removed from the battle before they could even reach a target for their deadly screeches or similarly devastating poisons. A quick barrage of low grade enchanted arrows found their marks and the harpies were dead.
The red wyrm and two demons proved to be far superior to the harpies. Each had good speed and maneuverability and significant defenses against arrows from both scales and magical auras. After Archers had made a few unsuccessful attempts to hit them, they passed word to the casters and switched to other available targets. They were quickly discovering that one advantage to being so greatly outnumbered was that even attacks that missed their target had a good chance of striking something somewhere in the enemy lines; though, some were still able to defend against the attacks by blocking and deflecting arrows. Still, even the best defenses can be overwhelmed by number and the Apropos Ring Archers were old hands at concentrating fire against those opponents.
As the enemy forces began to press into the base of the ramp, the Battle-Mages still on the ridge above reached the peak of their chanting. Unlike a quick round to round traditional exchange of spells from Wizards, their abilities were most effective on this sort of battlefield. They would continue chanting, channeling energy into the mystic forces on the field below, while viewing the battle from within the focal point of their spell. As the power built and discharged, they would select locations or creatures as targets and move within the enemy's midst as pure mystical energy. Back at their bodies they would be vulnerable and if disrupted, they would need to begin the long channeling process again. To keep this from occurring, each of the three Apropos Ring Battle-Mages had two other spell-casters and someone capable of some melee defense assigned, at least partially, to protecting them. The Battle-Mages would be high priority targets because even one, given sufficient time, could destroy an attacking force... even one as powerful in strength and numbers as this. The most powerful of the three casters had manifested a fierce beast of elemental fire in the midst of the forces closest to the Font; it radiated devastating heat, forcing the enemy to pull away from it or take injuries simply from being nearby, and was throwing blasts of fire into nearby companies. The second of the mages manipulated a small storm cloud, winds and lightning from it blasting into squads of opponents just beyond the orc companies at the front lines. The actions of the third were not visible directly from a distance, but far to the left side of the field, groups of the enemy would suddenly stagger or be thrown off their feet and others would just fall, as if sucked into the earth itself.
Of course, the forces of Evil present on the field had their own spell-slingers prepared to engage in battle. Most of the attacks were traditional offensive spells, balls of fire and shards of wickedly cold energy; these were targeted randomly across the field and intercepted by the Sentinels or others with some defensive magic available. Such spells were the magical equivalent of the orc attacks, serving little purpose but to catch the unaware and to drain the strength of mages before more serious combat began. On the Dark side, there were also greater magics underway: a foul looking mist was creeping steadily in towards the west side of the ramp, killing what little plant life it encountered and a few mortally wounded orcs attempting to flee before their death took them out of the battle completely. Each death seemed to fuel the mist to a greater strength than before, a fact noticed by more than one commander of troops on the side of evil. One more pragmatic leader ordered his own company of orcs into the mist for the glory of the Dark. The mist grew more dense, a life stealing cloud moving forward in coils towards the attacking Light siders. It was not unnoticed, however.
A pair of Alchemists had already selected several flasks from their bags and racks of supplies. After a quick discussion, and a few well placed throws, there was a series of quick concussion waves to that side of the ramp. The force of it staggered the melee engaged on the ramp, both orcs and Apropos Ring warriors. After a moment to re-orient themselves, the fight resumed. But below them, the cloud was moving away from the front lines, pushed by a determined breeze that emanated from a pool of elemental components lying amidst shards of broken crystal.
Terecia was waiting, more or less useless in the battle so far, near the top of the ramp. From this vantage point, she had a clear view of the majority of the battlefield; but with only melee skills at any significant level of training, there was little she could do to participate. She would need to find time to take up some sort of ranged attack, if she didn't follow the magic path Necina had encouraged her to try.
She had just scanned the field looking for possible dangers to the casters near her when trouble appeared, coming from above. The red wyrm dived out of the sky, almost directly above the mages at the top of the ramp. As it pulled out of the dive, it released an enormous blast of flame that rushed downward; Terecia threw an arm up above her head in a vague (and useless) attempt to protect her face and eyes, but beside her Necina already had the attack blocked. With a long crystal wand, the Enchantress defined a massive dome shape above all of them, intercepting the flame. Almost before the shield was in place, she also had a small stone bowl in her other hand and was whispering an incantation quietly to it. As she finished the spell, she allowed the shield to drop and the remaining oily fires were drawn into and absorbed by the bowl. A wicked grin creased her lips as she passed the newly enchanted item to Terecia.
[Necina says from beside you]”Here, run this up to Garic and tell him it's wild dragon fire. He'll know what to do with it.”
Terecia looked at it curiously, but turned to head down the ramp to where Garic was directing the battle. Even before she began moving, Necina was intercepting blasts of energy from a lich with some sort of large hoop of wire. She quickly reached Garic and ran her rapier through an orc the warrior was toying with.
[Garic says from in front of you]”Hey, I was playing with that...”
She quickly passed over the bowl and the message from Necina, bringing a similarly wicked grin to his face. He turned and glanced over the battle at the base of the ramp, quickly taking in the flow of events and making new strategy in seconds.
[Garic commands the nearby battle-lines]”Advance in three victor! I need a wedge into their forces.”
Several orcs looked at each other in shared horror before diving off the ramp, two of them rushing to dive off the ramp, one to each side. They were the only ones who survived the sudden push forward, as the Apropos melee line moved off the ramp and into the enemy forces. There was a great crash of wood and steel as the shield wall slammed into the oncoming enemy.
For the first time, the skirmishers were able to put away bows and other ranged weapons and break free of the tight infantry style formations they had been using on the ramp. Several slipped in each direction around the wedge, challenging opponents as they encountered them. While they weren't suited for standing in front of the most powerful physical opponents, or taking the hits that the heavy infantry had; they had agility and speed in their favor. They could quickly strike and fade back as necessary to keep their opponents from closing in around the advancing center of the Apropos line. There weren't many true Thieves or Rogues in the Apropos Ring and no Assassins anywhere in the Kingdoms of Light, except undercover agents of Darkness, but they had a healthy dose of Swashbucklers and Duelists. These weren't typically archetypes designed primarily for battlefield style combat, but good players could easily adapt the advantages of being able to quickly disable a single target to reduce the effectiveness of an enemy force. Of course, against Dark sided opponents; a disabling or critical injury was as likely to end in death as if they'd taken the time to finish off the enemy. There were few healers in the Dark side archetypes and it was just as likely that another Dark-sider would take the time to administer the coup de grace and take that share of the experience total for themselves as to aid the wounded.
The Apropos Ring advance came at an even worse time for the forces protecting the Font than they believed at first, as several companies were forced to retreat into the magical cloud created by one of their own casters. They were consumed immediately fueling a surge of growth in that spell and leaving an entire side of the field uncrossable, giving the Light-siders a protected flank without having to expend any effort to make it that way. The lack of focused leadership was hurting the the Dark forces as well; too many of the high powered characters had either been given inaccurate orders or were following assignments with conflicting directives. Several groups had already fallen to infighting, one of the giants was missing and so were the two major demons. Word was also starting to get around that one of the demons was the Succubus Marala... that bit of information was starting to hurt what little cohesiveness they had left. And they still hadn't managed to interrupt the work of the enemy Battle-Mages. Then, the balance of power seemed to shift in favor of the Dark.
With the slow expansion of the forces pushing forward in the wedge, a greater distance was opening up between the battle-mages and their defensive group and the other casters and ranged forces. The Wizards, Alchemists and several War-priests were centered around Necina nearly at the base of the ramp. Terecia and an Arcanist were further out on the field with one of the skirmishers and a warrior assigned to watch over them, but they were still a good distance behind the front line. A dark cloud of pestilence served as a wall to the left, cutting into the enemy force heading almost directly toward the Font. Most of the skirmishers were harassing the enemy lines off to the right. Then suddenly, there were dark clad opponents in their midst.
Terecia was able to react quickly, blocking a dagger thrust almost instinctively. As she did, the Warrior with her spun to her defense, thrusting his blade through a second opponent at the Performer's back that she hadn't even seen, before pivoting to strike at the one she had. To her side, another Ninja or Assassin put his blade through the neck of the Arcanist, interrupting his use of the wooden staff that was pulling lightning out of the stormy sky. The Assassin reached over to grab the staff, but was stopped by the knife thrown into his shoulder from behind. He whirled to protect himself as a nearby skirmisher rushed at him, seeking to protect his fallen comrade.
Even as Terecia's small section of the fight seemed under control, there were suddenly undead Mages standing between them and the Battle-Mages. That sort of short range teleportation wasn't nearly as costly as the long range version, but it could be taxing on an inexperienced caster so was not a common battlefield tactic. These undead were not lacking in experience, however; and they quickly showed how effective the trick could be. Nearly before they had finished materializing, they had each scattered pouches of small stone runes across the ground around them. Casting the runes was an almost effortless task for an adventurer, unlike a scroll that required someone who understood the languages of magic and the power involved in those mystic tongues; if the power levels of a given rune were less than those of the equivalent spell or scroll, however, the speed and flexibility of their use more than made up for it. Terecia and her remaining guard immediately started to rush back up the ramp to help fight these attackers.
In addition to their runes, the undead casters were prepared with a variety of fast direct force spells. They immediately cut loose on the left-most Battle-Mage, who was controlling the storm cloud. The attack was so quick and expertly executed that the Battle-Mage was cut to ribbons and on the ground before his defenders even shifted their attention from watching the skies for the dragon. The Vedron Liches turned their attacks to the next target. Unfortunately for them, he was just interrupting his own spell as he watched the Apropos Ring melee approaching his elemental's position. His consciousness returned to his body just as his Wizard defender blocked the first force blast with a quickly cast shield. The defenders from the downed Battle-Mage stepped forward as well and with the extra guards providing a delaying action, he prepared his own counter-attack on the undead.
While the power of the Light itself was typically in the purview of Priests and Hermits, Mystics and Oracles; it was possible to manipulate that energy in the same manner as any magical force. Few Battle-Mages bothered to learn the techniques and fewer still took a moral stance to ensure their balance of morality gave them access to a pure enough source of Light for it to matter. Himariki the Bright was not the typical Battle-Mage; he was, in fact, listed on various tracking sites as the highest ranking spell-slinger in the world. While fire, lightning and force were powers that few could ignore; against undead, there was nothing so deadly as true Light. He threw wide his arms and began a chant that sounded across the valley like the call of trumpets. As that sound rang out, Terecia's guard skidded to a stop and held out an arm to hold her back as well. He turned back towards the front lines but remained close to Terecia as she watched Light respond to the call of the Battle-Mage.
Above the ramp, the clouds cleared to reveal the brilliant blue of a mountain sky; but as though it had been trapped and building up an overwhelming pressure behind that barrier of moisture, the sunlight blasted through in a brilliant white beam. It illuminated the ramp, causing the undead attackers to burst into flame. Small shields, generated by the runes scattered at their feet popped into existence as if to block the attack... but unlike fire or force, Light could not be so easily blocked. Unable to focus through this unexpected attack, the Vedron found themselves crippled and then destroyed in seconds.
Free of his current attackers, Himariki continued to build upon the power of his attack and allowed the sunlight to sweep down the ramp and across his allies. Where lesser demons and undead were engaged by the Apropos Ring, the enemy died with screams and cursing. While not every opponent on the field would be susceptible to this spell; unlike a beast of fire, the power of Light could be used without fear of harming allies. More than a few were even far enough aligned to the Light that they received a minor healing benefit and regenerated some endurance from being within the golden rays.
The guardians around the Battle-Mages redistributed themselves and returned to their vigilance. Their timing was nearly perfect, as the dragon swept in from the west so low to the ground that it barely cleared the side of the ramp as it approached. The boulder that it carried weighed as much as several horses and if they had been unprepared for the attack, it would have hit and crushed several of them. An Arcanist on that side of the ramp held up an arm and shook the bracelets hanging on it, producing a chiming sound that echoed oddly around the cliffs behind them and formed a visible wave of air and force that spread out towards dragon and boulder. The dragon released the boulder and banked hard to its left, trying to avoid the spreading effect. As the boulder struck the wave, the dragon's concern was made clear. It shattered with the sound of a gong into pebbles that rained down over the group of men and women below. The wyrm roared its anger as it disappeared over the enemy forces to the East.
The main body of the Apropos Ring had managed to push nearly 60 yards into the center of the enemy forces, and most of the lesser Dark side troops were gone or scattered. But the enemies that remained were more closely matched in skill and while it was not uncommon to see a single Warrior or Ranger taking on more than one Gladiator or Dark Knight, it was no longer possible for each of them to hold entire squads or companies. Even a few of the spell casters had blades in hand, challenging one opponent with a quick thrust and the next with a blast of icy energy.
From near the point of the wedge, Garic hefted the stone bowl as far into the air toward the right side of the Font as he could. As he did, he shouted out ”Now Necina! Fall back!”
As Apropos warriors quickly disengaged and fell back into a tighter formation half way back to the ramp, the Enchantress released the binding on the bowl she had made. Gobs of dragon's fire blasted across that section of the battlefield, even reaching as far as the new formation. Hastily cast shields protected the line of battle from the flames that decimated the Dark side forces. Where the dragon's fire landed, it continued to burn... eating its way through armor and scales, even melting some of the rock beneath where it struck the ground. Only Necina's magic had kept the same from happening to their own forces earlier in the battle. Fortunately, dragons were rare and even the strongest could only produce so much in a limited time. It was unlikely anyone had ever seen it captured and used in this manner before.
”Advance, up the middle!” Garic shouted out again, his orders carrying across the field.
With a cloud of pestilence and decay blocking the ground to the west and dragon's fire ravaging the east, few opponents stepped forward to meet the immediate advance. But while many had been defeated, there were still many more Dark side creatures than members of Apropos Ring remaining... and it hadn't just been forces on the side of Evil who had fallen in the battle. A good third of the melee and skirmishers had fallen in pushing forward in a wedge, and several casters had been lost in the stealth and teleport attacks as well. As the battle line advanced, the Alchemists tossed flasks off to each side creating walls of flame and mystic energies that would prevent flanking maneuvers, even if someone managed to circumvent the barriers already in place. The materials cost alone would stagger many guilds and leave individuals stunned at the extravagance for a temporary barrier. The corridor technique was a planned expense, however, for these types of battles; providing an important line of retreat to the ramp if they were overwhelmed or needed room to consider how to fight an unexpected opponent.
And then the front lines were past the worst of the spell effects and the enemy was waiting. To the left, a group in the colors of the Dark Lord, leader of the one significant city in Dark territory, attacked relentlessly. A pair of Knights, Anti-Paladins or Dark Guards, worked together exceptionally well in a combination of feints and brutal attacks to bring down one of stronger heavy Warriors who had taught Terecia how to work with a slim blade like her rapier against full plate armor. As the Warrior fell, Garic started to step into the gap left behind but one of the remaining Arcanists stepped up and released a force bubble that threw the remaining fighters of that unit up into the air and over other nearby opponents. The attack wouldn't kill them, or even injure them badly; but it would take them a brief while to reorganize and return to the front line. In the meantime, the Alchemists continued building their wall along their route and the melee tightened up as they pushed forward. From the direction where the two must have landed came a howl of rage that sounded far more reptilian than human.
Terecia had been attacked several more times as she continued along, staying amidst the center of the attacking force. It seemed there was no end of hidden, stealthy Assassins who could use invisibility or camouflage to work their way into the middle of an attacking army. Fortunately, one of the Runecrafters had passed her a series of runes that enabled her to detect invisible and hidden threats. As each expired, she activated another. They hadn't shown her all of the Assassins, but most of them had been revealed in time to let her defend herself. But other than an occasional attack on Necina or one of the Battle-Mages, they all seemed to be focusing on her. Someone out there knew that she was more important than her combat skills merited... and they wanted her stopped, but not enough to make it obvious enough for the rest of the enemy to know about it and focus their attacks on her. And that... was decidedly odd.
She considered trying to let Garic or Necina know... but both were in the thick of the fighting and the last thing they needed was another little detail to worry about.
The front lines of the Apropos Ring had reached within 30 yards of the outer ring of stones that made up the structure of the Font. For the first time in the battle, they ground to a complete halt; unable to push forward. Necina and two of the Wizards stepped up to trade spells with the Lich that had been pointed out before they'd even begun the battle. Garic also took a more personal part in the melee at the front line, squaring off against an Ogre who fought more like a Sword-Saint than something that size had any right to.
It was at that moment, when the most powerful members of the guild were needed at the front lines that the dragon struck once more at those remaining at the rear. More powerful than expected, the dragon breathed fire once more; laying down a trail of liquid flame over most of the ramp and killing the Battle-Mage still controlling the Living Earth spell, his guards, and most of the others nearby. One of the Magi supporting from the rim of the cliff nearby had managed a divine barrier that stopped the dragon's fire from killing Himariki and his Wizard guard. The Wizard shook the Battle-Mage from his spell and began building a bridge of energy to use to get clear of the fires burning all around them. They were cut off from the rest of the guild and it was highly likely that the dragon would return if it realized anyone had survived. With the war-magic broken, the clouds closed off the breeches overhead and blocked the sunlight; undead that had retreated to the rear of the enemy forces were now beginning to advance back into the fight.
Terecia happened to be looking toward the Font as one of the huge demons, this one obviously female, interposed herself between the advance and the center of the Font. Strangely, this position caused more than a few of the other Dark-siders to shift away or find a reason to charge into the melee battle as far away from her as possible. Despite the weakening of the forces directly ahead, the continued assault from the sides kept the Apropos Ring advance stalled. As she watched, the eyes that she had seen in the darkness reformed. But this time, the eyes became more and more present, and a form made of dark mist in a vaguely humanoid shape stepped from the power of the Font. The demoness and this... entity... seemed to exchange words, the petulant looks from the Succubus suggesting that she was being dressed down for failing in some way but then she suddenly laughed outright and both of them turned to look Terecia's way.
The world around her grew translucent, the color seeming to leech out of combatants on both sides leaving them defined in patches of light and shadow, and the action of the battle slowed even beyond the stylized pace the game used to provide reaction time and speed variations due to magic and physical enhancement. She stepped forward, still moving at her normal pace and punched her rapier through several opponents, splashing an arc of black geometric shapes through the air around her. Almost as if by chance, a corridor opened in the action; she took the path toward the Font and the two creatures of Evil knowing somehow that this was the whole reason she was here, that this was part of her quest. Neither ally or enemy noticed as she passed through the battle as if she were simply walking through a peaceful crowd in a mall. The open passage behind her remained, even expanded some as she passed as if to reassure her of her safety.
[A being of tremendous power speaks to you]”Terecia of the Apropos Ring, you are called to the Font of Evil to bath in the power of darkness and take up the mantle of the chosen. You may choose between the paths of Betrayer or Dark Avatar, and this battle will end. No longer will you stand behind the powerful of the realm, granting them the benefit of your presence. You will stand equal to them, above them, directing the actions of the weak to serve your purposes. Simply step within the Font and choose your path.”
Tampa, FL - Sunday November 5, 2006 – 20:27
“I still don't understand what you thought you were going to accomplish,” Baker grumbled from the couch in Kimmy's office.
“You know as well as I do that Craig has had a crush on her since our junior year at Whateley,” Kimmy explained pointedly, not interrupting her feline pacing across the plush carpeting.
“I know. And nothing will ever happen. He's a high level exemplar and she doesn't have anything but her flight and her vision. It could kill her even if he tried to take precautions.” The issue was one all of them faced, that despite the evolutionary advantages being a mutant provided; there were decided concerns facing successful breeding to keep humanity 2.0... or whatever version they now were... thriving. Some types of mutants had fewer difficulties, but any time you mixed in greater strength it was a double edged sword. The ability almost forced mutants to breed with others like them, for safety's sake... though that would also ensure that such traits could breed true. Or so the bio people at Whateley people were saying, and the Evolution Rocks! propaganda people.
“Assuming she's even interested,” Kimmy clarified. “But that doesn't matter. It was a known desire. The dancer looked like her, close enough that Craig would associate them without being so similar that he just duplicated Vulture. And any fantasy he's going to have is going to involve someone who is either a high end PK brick or an exemplar so they can actually fuck without someone getting hurt.”
“So? So the kid turns into someone who can get busy with Rock-E and he ends up a little less... tense. That's not exactly worth all this...” So not worth it. Billions of dollars of damage, putting the kid on par with a friggen' hurricane.
“Callie has been making noises about leaving the team for... a long time, Baker. She's only stuck around this long because we've needed her. She's been valuable to us... but mostly because no one knew her vulnerabilities. That fight back in February ended that; anyone willing to pay for that information knows just how easy a target she is. Some KKK Humanity First crossbred redneck with a deer rifle could take her down if he could find her in the sky. If we can put this shifter into that spot, air support with sensory advantages; Vulture can retire and settle down somewhere without any risk. And if our replacement happens to have a defensive advantage on top of that, we all win. Craig getting a fuck buddy is just a bonus.”
“Ok... ok... I get it. But that's not what we got. We're talking... major disaster. She basically ripped through the 'burbs like a tornado and exploded in downtown. There's flight... but no control, no... she's a meteor. A meteor that picks itself back out of its crater and tries again.”
“Your control of metaphor... is amazing,” she teased him.
“Ya, whatever. I didn't give a shit about English classes when we were at the academy, why would I care now? So why was the... this Sexpot... so different from Vulture?”
“Honestly... I don't know. Jackie, the female form he uses most often, is fairly open mentally and I can push her any way I need. She's more intelligent in that form too, which makes it easier to chain through her secrets. The thing is, she doesn't really know all that much about her abilities. It's mostly speculation and random luck that she's stumbled across as much as she has.”
“Great. So what we really need is a lab full of Testing geeks?”
“Pretty much. But I think we can get a lot out of trial and error, we're just going to need to be a lot more careful to make it more about the trials than the errors. If we can convince her to do it willingly, we can at least keep some controls on the changes.”
“Do you think the compulsions affected what she became?”
“I've thought about it... but I'm pretty sure they didn't. Not directly. I'm willing to bet every bit of that form came from Craig's head. The body was an idealized version of the girl dancing for him, with some subtle variation for musculature and exemplar symmetry. She had flight... extremely resistant to damage. The rest... I think they came from quirks of psychology.”
“Oh?” Baker looked intrigued.
“I'd just warned Craig to look but not touch when the girl started dancing. He assured me he didn't need to be compelled... and I know he was just joking around, but still. The idea that he's vulnerable to my powers was there... and so the girl became resistant, not just to my compulsions but to any Telepathy or Empathy.”
“That makes sense... and the differences in her flight?”
“The ability to get to him faster? He's always
saying he wishes he had some way to move faster.”
“Craig weighs more than some vehicles... he's lucky he
can move at all.”
“I know... just saying that it could be a bit of wishful thinking. Imagine going into a fight with her carrying Rock-E... and dropping him fist first into our opponents' brick?”
Baker whistled quietly and nodded. “Ok, I think... oh... her flight ceiling! Vulture has always been out of sight, out of his reach. Maybe that's why she can't get any elevation.”
“I think you're reaching a bit... but.. maybe.”
“What about her vision? Like you said earlier, if she'd been able to see like Callie, she'd have known we hadn't made it downtown yet. She'd have taken a different route.”
“I think part of that was just that I was trying to push her in that direction. The coast would have been safer, but it would have taken you longer to get there... and I had no idea that she was going to be that destructive. But as far as not getting the vision... I just don't think it was part of the equation for Craig. We might take Vulture's information for granted when we're in a fight, but how much impact do you think the specific way she gets it has on his fantasies? In fact... I think its why she seemed to have such poor control. Remember all the things that Speedsters have to deal with to move as fast as they do? Their senses and nervous systems have to be hopped up otherwise they're limited in how they can use their speed. Turns at Mach 4 take... well, I don't remember the math... but she may have been moving so fast that her senses were overloaded. By the time she knew there was a building in front of her, she'd already come to a stop.”
“If that's true... how can you hope to get a usable result out of this? Little 'quirks' are always going to cause problems like that,” Baker pointed out. How exactly were they going to deal with problems on that scale, anyway? It wasn't like they had some sort of headquarters with high tech restraints or anything.
“I know. Like I said... trial and error. And we know she has a pretty significant power, if a shifted form is capable of being that powerful. It just happens to be locked into an unusual triggering method. For that matter, we don't really even know that... it's just what she believes. It could be purely psychological, or just coincidence that its always sex that's involved.”
“There's got to be a better way...” He
finished the thought silently, preferably one that doesn't
get us sent a bill for billions of dollars.
“It's all I've come up with... hell, we don't
even know if the kid is going to come back to us voluntarily. I
thought that once he got a taste for a bit of power, that would
be all the bait we'd need. This... makes it more difficult.
The press is calling him a monster... people think he's a
terrorist... I've even heard that they're talking about
bringing a Knights of Purity unit in to patrol downtown until
they're sure Sexpot isn't still around. Especially after
the Air Force dropped the ball on defending Tampa... like they
had any chance of engaging her.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, each considering plans. Then, Baker continued.
“So we wait until the kid comes back? I guess that means we have some time on our hands... whatever will we do with it?” he teased, pulling Kimmy into his lap.
“I'm sure we can think of something,” she whispered back, between kisses.
“We don't have a shapeshifter tucked away in the
closet behind me, do we?”
“No... the last thing we need here is two of me,”
Kimmy warned him, poking him in the stomach.
“How do you know it would be a copy of you? I might have
other fantasies, you know... and quirks, even.”
“Oh, really? I think I know how to make sure that all
you're thinking about is me,” she assured him, pulling
herself tight against his chest.
“Hmm..mm.mm.” Baker mumbled, around Kimmy's aggressive kisses.
Tampa, FL - Sunday November 5, 2006 – 13:42 (roughly six hours earlier)
Government buildings were typically closed on Sundays, but the disasters caused by a mutant terrorist had more than a few public officials at their desks or in front of an onslaught of press, doing their best to calm the public and keep their own heads from rolling due to the guillotine of politics in a disaster area.
“Yes, Robert... I know how bad a risk it is to bring the Knights of Purity into a city that has the sort of population of mutants that Tampa does,” explained the wiry grey-haired mayor of the city of Tampa. He knew it better than the Governor, considering his own granddaughter had manifested some sort of sunlight based power only a year prior. For some reason, most of the manifested mutants in Florida and even the states to the north and along the Gulf coast tended to migrate to his city. The nearest place with anywhere near the number was Atlanta. But he had a crisis on his hands and the fact that no one even knew where this mutant had come from or where she'd disappeared to made it all the worse. His constituents understood random loss from weather.... as did anyone who lived in hurricane, tornado, or earthquake territory. But this was different. You couldn't put a face on mother nature; she hit you and you just did what you could to recover. This girl's face was on every newspaper and television screen. Aid came from all over, provided by those filled with sympathy and compassion. Something like this? Those people were weren't in shock or denial that it had happened wanted to respond to it, violently.
“Fine.... I'll make a few calls. You'll still have to justify this to the state legislature, but more than a few of them will be relieved that you're taking responsibility for bringing those people in. Just... do what you can to keep them reined in.”
“I will... “ he assured the governor, only to get the click of a disconnecting line.
The Mayor stared at the letter with the Goodkind logo at it's top for a long time before getting up and walking to his window. There was no real hope that conventional means were going to find this terrorist... if that was what she really was. And even if they did, there was little they could do to stop someone who could crash into buildings at Mach 4 and walk out without a scratch... dear God, Mach 4; he could count the number of mutants who had ever reached such speeds without some sort of technological enhancement on just his hands. That alone made her frighteningly powerful. Humanity First and other anti-mutant groups were having a field day with the attention. The MCO was poking its nose into any place in the city it thought it could get away with, despite not being given any official authorization. Then he'd gotten the missive from the Goodkinds. His first instinct was to politely, but firmly, tell them no. Then he'd gotten a phone call from the one person who he'd expected would be fully in support of that decision.
Kimmy Descadara wasn't the sort of backer that most politicians liked to admit to. It was a bit like having mob ties. But despite the potential press nightmare that she could be... due to her less than conservative ideas, such as running a strip club or her ties to the mutant group Baker's Dozen; she had money and influence with people who could make things happen. And despite his own beliefs that she was, herself, a mutant of some sort; she had suggested that he make contact with the Goodkinds and bring in the KoP. He'd explained that they had already extended an offer and she assured him that he should take it.
It was good advice, for the moment. If there was potential for another attack, it would help having people trained to counter mutants in the area. It would reassure the citizens of Tampa that their leaders were taking every possible step to protect them. For that matter, it would probably get the MCO off his back. But he still had reservations. And that little bit of doubt, telling him that once they were here... then what? It worried him. Oh, there was no question that he was going to make the call. Somehow though, he knew that it was going to turn bad.
After another heavy sigh, as he looked out at the press vehicles cluttered all over the sidewalks and lawn below; he turned and walked to his desk. The Mayor of Tampa picked up the phone... and dialed.
St. Petersburg, FL - Sunday November 5, 2006 – 20:31
Jack was stunned by the offer of using the Font. This had to be the Dark Master or whatever it was they called the GM that ran the quests and storyline of that side of the game. If it was true, it meant that the whole quest chain that he had been offered and all the things that the Apropos Ring had done to get to this point had all been a trick, a way to lure powerful characters or rare archetypes like his own to cross over to the other side. Or even to plant evil into places where they had a huge reputation for being good.
He could leap through all the intermediate effort of training and questing, seeking out rare materials for equipment that needed to be specially made to enhance Terecia's specific traits. She could be as powerful as this demoness beside the GM, who grew more powerful by stealing abilities from others. How much more powerful had his quest made the Succubus? How many of the Apropos Ring losses along the way had been due to her actions? For that matter, how many of the more powerful creatures who had been present at the start of this battle had had their end at her hands instead of those of Terecia's guild?
What would these archetypes be like, Betrayer or Dark Avatar? Of course, the first thing Terecia would have to face if she stepped into the Font would be the remaining members of the Apropos Ring. Somehow, he knew, she would be powerful enough to survive it if she did.
Jack pivoted Terecia's view to look back towards the core of the battle. In the distance, it was possible to see the last survivors on the cliff edge facing off with the dragon who had finally returned to the ground. The five of them seemed to be holding their own, but they weren't doing much more than that. Near the front lines, Garic had defeated the Ogre and was now fighting a were-cat of some sort. She was extremely fast and agile, moving so quickly that even the slowing effect that made everything else look like it were in Matrix style slow motion was barely enough to bring her to normal speeds. Only Garic's superior equipment and the enchantments in his armor were preventing her from shredding him to bits. But the enhancements weren't enough to allow him to successfully hit her, either. They were the sort of match that was interesting to watch, neither being the ideal to kill the other, so it was truly a challenge of skill and luck as to who would win.
For a moment, he couldn't manage to see Necina at all. Worried, he looked harder... and it seemed as if the pathway through the battle spread further to allow him to see her. The Enchantress had been thrown to the ground by some sort of dog-like humanoid who had a small pack of dark-hounds fighting along with him. One of the hounds was tearing into her right arm, preventing her from manipulating any sort of magics with it. The rings on her other hand were flashing sparks into the other hounds, warding them back. Their Master, however, had a warped looking great sword drawn back, ready for a strike.
Tampa, FL - Sunday November 5, 2006 – 16:05 (several hours earlier)
A team of privately funded scientists and technicians working under the auspices of the investigative branch of the Knights of Purity crossed the National Guard barricades checkpoint and quickly moved to a clear section of the street near the Bank of America strike point. Two gunships had taken up stations at opposite ends of the downtown area, engines and rotors uncommonly quiet despite their proximity to the ground. Within minutes of gaining access to the disaster site, several additional vehicles had come through the blockade positioned to unload equipment and technical crew. The swarm of men and women appeared to be almost fanatical about their focus in setting up the diagnostic and testing equipment they pulled from the trucks. Off to one side of the activity, a wiry gray haired man in work clothes and a lab coat supervised the crew he'd built for this sort of disaster. As he watched them, his patron and another man approached him. Despite the conditions of the disaster area, both wore custom tailored suits and $750 shoes.
“Your crews are staying consistently ahead of schedule, Doctor,” his patron spoke first.
“Of course, sir,” he responded, keeping the frustration and exasperation in his voice to a minimum. “We spend significant amounts of time and money designing the layout and training every one of them for just this sort of situation. Our drill process is more rigorous than the military's readiness standards. If they did not meet the time table, no one could.”
“When do you expect results?” the second man asked.
“Excuse me?” blurted out the Doctor, unable to contain his surprise.
“Results. When can you tell me who she is?”
“Sir?” the Doctor asked, looking at his patron in confusion. The man who had provided much of the funding they had just discussed only shook his head subtly.
“Well Doctor?”
Doctor Harold Malomer was used to working with Goodkinds and anti-mutant groups like Humanity First, or with government representatives with a mutant related agenda. This was the third time he had been brought in to investigate a crime scene by the Knights of Purity. He wasn't one of the top researchers in mapping out the mutant genome or manifestation mechanics or body image templates, but he was one of the top scientists in the world at giving that research practical expression. There wasn't a non-Devise method of detecting mutants or identifying the range of abilities their mutation granted them. Not yet. Malomer was working on it, though; and while his prototype equipment couldn't identify everything, there were a few things he could discover.
Of course, few people outside the MCO cared about tests to identify exemplars. Anyone with half a brain could just see when someone was an exemplar, they were physically idealized with symmetrical features and abnormally balanced muscle tone. That was especially true once they exceeded the normal human ranges where it really became vital for anyone to know. They were supermodel or movie star beautiful without the make-up, camera, and computer processing tricks those professions used. But the professional sports leagues found the test useful and it was part of the official Olympics testing process... so even without being a complete test, it was useful and profitable. Still, if he wanted to keep the research and testing costs from coming out of his own pockets; he had to work with the people who had a desperate need to be able to detect mutants.
“Doctor?”
“No,” he told the man, bluntly. “Our time table has us searching for samples along the Bank impact site by night fall. We will move across the street into the Tower tomorrow morning, and to the library in the evening. If we have not yet discovered a viable sample, we will check the other impact points. If we do get a good sample, we shift to the second stage time table and you can base your estimates on results on that. Until we do find that sample, however; any estimate I can give you will vary greatly.”
“Days... days until we even know if you can give us something to start our pursuit?”
The Doctor tensed up visibly, “And if we don't take those days... Mister...?”
The man's gray eyes connected to Malomer's own piercingly. “Smith.”
“Ah... yes... Mr. Smith... good to meet you...”, the Doctor sneered. “You could always use that time to pursue your other leads.”
Smith scowled at the doctor.
“I thought so. Investigations of this sort take time. Even when we spend enormous amounts of money and time in preparation and planning to keep that time during a critical event to an absolute minimum. If you want miracles, you could always try magic or a devise. If you need another copy of our schedules, contact our offices and my assistant will forward them to you.”
Smith's scowl deepened and he stalked off. Obviously, he was anti-mutant and involved in some way with the federal investigation... but probably not MCO. Their people didn't wear suits like that.
“One of these days, Doctor, you are going to torment the wrong powerful man and regret it.”
“Possibly. But that day won't be until they... and you... cease to want what I can provide. In the meantime, you'll just have to bear with my eccentricities. You know as well as I do that we provide far more detailed and realistic time tables than anyone should ever expect to receive for a crime scene investigation. To expect more is foolish posturing, no matter how powerful he is.”
St. Petersburg, FL - Sunday November 5, 2006 – 20:33
[GEO: The Valley of the Font of Evil]
All thoughts of the offer to use the Font were cast aside as Terecia saw Necina in danger. She raced back through the open passage, taking full advantage of the difference in speed she currently had over the rest of the forces of both Good and Evil here. The Performer threw herself at the Huntsman, ensuring that no matter what happened Necina would have time to fight off the beasts before having to face the one controlling them and the dark blade he wielded.
The impact threw the Huntsman nearly twenty feet from where Necina lay and knocked his weapon from his hand. Terecia scooped it up and she rolled back to her feet and threw herself on top of her opponent, both weapons taking the full weight of her body and driving into his chest. She quickly pulled her own blade free, but the borrowed weapon seemed to stick in the body and dark tendrils of energy flickered out from it into the body. A few of the sparks raced across her hand and up her arm.
A hand reached out from behind her and pulled her own from the blade. “You don't want to keep hold of that,” Necina explained. “That's a Soul Thief. It will take life from the victim and feed it into you... just like Succubi do. You can get a lot of power using one of those, but it corrupts you in the process.”
Terecia nodded, carefully, then turned to make certain Necina was all right. The wounds on one arm looked bad, but it was also clear that the Enchantress was safe. She glanced around at the battle that was still raging, realizing that while Necina was now moving at her speed, the rest of the battle was still moving along slowly.
Then, Necina's arms wrapped around her and she found herself staring into the Enchantress' eyes. “Thank you, Terecia. If he'd used that on me, he could have taken my magic away and possibly destroyed all the artifacts I've created for the Ring. Weapons, Armor... many of the things keeping them safe right now. We owe you... I owe you, my life.”
And with that, she kissed Terecia. The world resumed its normal pace. Nearby catcalls and whistles quickly reminded both of them that despite everything going on, they were surrounded by gamers and to all appearances, they were two women kissing. They pulled apart, the look in Necina's eye suggesting that they weren't finished.
Then, the world... shattered.
Marala watched the newest member of the Apropos Ring race away from the Font, her transformation as yet not accepted. “What is she doing?” she vocalized.
“She has made her decision, Succubus. The young one has chosen friendship and love over power. Such things are not the paths of Evil... as you well know, my girl, despite all your presentation of Marala as a creature of Darkness. You should collect your own and escape before the Font turns. It would be... unwise... for you to be here when it does.”
The demoness turned to look at the Dark Master and stood somewhat incredulous as she saw a radiance begin to build within the mist of his figure. She glanced back out at the battle, in time to see the Enchantress take Terecia into her embrace. In a single leap, half simple jumping and the other half flying; she reached the front lines and grabbed the were-cat mid-pounce before it landed a claw strike on Garic. It growled at her before realizing who had caught her up, then blinked at the demoness in confusion.
“Time to go, kitty cat,” With a flick of her wrist, Marala opened a portal out of the Valley and tossed the cat through it. She dived through behind her ally and friend, followed by several Dark Knights and a few others who quickly decided that when the most powerful quit the field abruptly, it probably meant things were about to go horribly wrong for their side. In doing so, they managed to escape the disaster that befell the rest of the army of Evil remaining at the Font.
The pulse of Light that raced across the Valley scattered combatants, stopping all serious attempts at fighting. While the physical knock back had little effect on the members of the Apropos Ring, each wave threw those aligned to Evil dozens of feet. At the center of the Font, a brilliant radiance was building in contrast to the dark pillar of energy. With a final pulse and burst of music, the world literally came apart around those who remained.
It was similar to watching an animated scene broken down to mesh frameworks, shifted around, and reassembled for rendering. Bits of rock and blood soaked earth separated from neighboring sections, whirled through several alternate perspectives which included different ratios of white and black, and returned to their original locations filled with colorful life. In moments, large sections of the battlefield were replaced by lush grasses and wildflowers.
Overhead, the clouds fled leaving a vibrant blue sky and the twin suns shining cheerfully. Sunlight, freed of constraints completely, blasted the remaining unprotected demons and undead into dust. War magics disappeared from the valley, along with any signs of the damage they'd done. Of the remaining forces of Evil within the valley, a few remaining fliers escaped over the cliffs; the rest simply... died and when the ground beneath them was finished changing, there was no sign that they had ever been present.
Finally, the pillar of dark energy collapsed under the weight of the Light all around it and the survivors were left with a natural silence, revealing in its absence the persistent hums and whispering that had been a part of the environment of the Font of Evil. In its place, a pillar of Light filled the center of the valley. A light breeze crossed over them, as warriors and casters alike put away weapons and tools, and began walking to the Font they had won.
Tampa, FL - Monday November 6, 2006 – 09:15
Despite crews having worked through the night, the investigation at the disaster site was continuing at an almost frenzied pace. The fact that they had yet to locate any tissue or blood sample was supporting the current theories that the mutant had a very high ranking PK power set. How high was still under debate, simply moving a human body at the speeds reported by military radar tracking took an incredible amount of power. Yet, the amounts of damage along her course seemed inconsistent on several levels. While a significant amount of wind damage had resulted, most of the damage was simply the result of the shock wave of an object passing in close proximity at supersonic speeds, a sonic boom. This suggested that the mutant was using some refined level of control of her PK field to reduce friction and drag, or possibly some variation of Warper ability. Either possibility reduced the power scale into a more standard regional level threat instead of the world class threat that a mutant would be if it were entirely brute force PK. Also, either ability could also allow the mutant to produce a greater impact on a structure she hit than simply the damage of the collision by expanding her shell or warp field outward to disrupt the integrity of walls and supports before she struck.
Still, it was a high enough level of PK to ensure the field remained intact throughout the series of attacks on the downtown area and thus prevented leaving any DNA sample at the scene for testing. The video that was captured of the girl in the downtown area was nearly useless for piecing together details. In flight, she was moving far more quickly than standard digital video surveillance video sampled. She rarely appeared in any camera's field of view for more than a couple frames of footage. The useful shots, for identification purposes, were all of her pulling herself out of the rubble or walking normally down the street in only a diaphanous bit of lingerie that revealed far more than it covered and should never have held up to the forces to which it had been exposed.
Facial recognition had produced only one near match in the MID database, the local hero Vulture. Despite the similar appearance and the ability to fly, this was clearly not the same woman. Vulture had no PK shell, or any ability to use her PK for anything other than flight. On top of that, Vulture was not an exemplar and this woman was far to attractive not to be; very few women could look and move with that level of sexual attractiveness in the best of circumstances, let alone when climbing out of a pile of rubble. Still, the similarities were close enough that a team was looking into Vulture's family history and relatives. This mutant could be a sister or cousin.
Malomer brought his musing to a stop as one of his crew chiefs approached. The man was one of the newer supervisors but was an expert in video technology, with several patents to his own name for video surveillance devices. It had taken quite a bit to get him to join the team, but he suspected it would be worth every dime.
“Alavera? You have something for me?”
“I do, Doctor. I've got 12 frames of footage from just before the flight into the library that I think you're going to want to see.”
“Tell me.” He didn't need the crew chief to show him the video, if the experts said there was something there worth investigating, he was going to take their word for it. Not only did it save him time, it was a great morale booster for his people to know that he trusted their reports and analysis of the data they got.
“Her hair blew into her mouth. She spit it out.”
“Excellent. You've given the grid details to the search teams?”
“Yes, Doctor. Team Echo should be on their way there right now.”
“Good work, Alavera. Even if this doesn't pan out, you've earned your bonus with this one.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I'll get back to my crew, we've still got a lot of footage to work through. I've already forwarded the clip on this potential hit to you, along with the enhanced segment.”
There was no guarantee that they would get a DNA sample out of this, but it was a start.
Tampa, FL - Monday November 6, 2006 – 10:04
Jack wanted the confidence and strength of being Jackie, but stayed in his natural form in an effort to stay as distant as possible from the... things he had done. Despite being awake for almost forty hours, he'd still had a difficult time getting to sleep and it had been anything but restful when he had. Now, with a new day starting; the world seemed somewhat surreal to him. His memory kept providing flashes of blurry views of the streets of Tampa seen from overhead and the images were starting to resolve into real places. Sights, sounds, the sensations of flying along the river at incredibly high speeds had all been too much to comprehend at the time, running together into a euphoric explosion of hyper-stimulated senses; but now, memory... or imagination... was starting to make sense of those events. Dread filled him with each new mental snapshot; when would the worst come to him? That image of a doctor torn apart by shards of glass? The wide-eyed boy on the road? And would that be the worst... or would it be worse to know what he had done and never remember those moments?
The taxi hardly seemed to be moving, its mundane speeds barely registering through his dazed musing. Not that it mattered, he was oblivious to the world outside his thoughts for most of the trip into Tampa. His car was still at Kimmy's... had been there since Saturday night. He doubted she would have it towed, not after... just... not. But he couldn't leave it there, someone would notice eventually.
The cab driver chattered in the front seat, talking about the weather and one of the college teams. Jack ignored it, mostly, the way he would have any other day. Cab drivers and barbers, they were direct taps into the gossip network of the community. Today, more than ever, he wanted to avoid hearing what the community was talking about. The odds were far too likely that he would be at the center of it.
The dark shadow that raced past his window disrupted his internal focus and he glanced up to see a gunship circle overhead. His flinch caught the attention of the driver who took this as a suggestion for a topic.
“Gunships all over the city, you know. I can't understand why the Mayor would let these Knights into Tampa... bad as the MCO, you know... and there are entirely too many people in the city here who know someone who has a friend with a family member who's a mutant. It's all the UV rays with the sunlight, you know... that's why we get so many of them here. But getting these northerners in here with their helicopters and their power armor... nothing but trouble. They were hassling Handler first thing this morning you know...”
Handler... wasn't that the telekinetic gadgeteer in Baker's Dozen? Jack tried to remember what he knew about her... one of the two fliers on the team, Handler and Vulture. He'd seen Handler in action once, years back, just after the hurricane that had done so much damage to Fort Myers. Not that he'd seen much, since Baker himself had chased him off before he'd barely even realized what he was seeing.
“... some sort of DNA evidence. They'll be catching this Sexpot before you know it...”
Jack blinked and tried to mentally recover what he'd been blocking out, but he'd done too good a job ignoring the cabbie. “What was that you said?”
“Oh... you hadn't heard the reports? The Feds were saying that this expert investigation team they've brought in, some sort of Goodkind's organization, found some sort of DNA... hair or something. Once they run some tests on it, they'll be able to figure out what this mutant was capable of... maybe even track her down.”
“I thought... isn't it impossible to do any sort of test to tell what a mutant does?” It had to be, or the Army would have known what he was... they'd never have discharged him if they'd known. What he'd done... if they could use him as a weapon like that. He'd never have any freedom.
“This is that inventor fellow. Whatsit, Malomer? Does the tests they use for the Olympics even. He has a test that lets him... oh, this is you right? Kimmy's Kittens, right? Good to see a young fellow like you take a cab when he's had too much... too many drunks just drive themselves home. That's your car there, right... real beauty, just like you said... looks like I'm not the only one who thinks so...”
Jack glanced out the window as he handed the driver some cash for the fare, expecting to see Kimmy or maybe Dee waiting by his car. The massive suit of power armor hunched over it was so unexpected he gasped and slammed himself back in the seat.
“Something to see, aren't they. Too bad those things aren't in the hands of some of our National Guard boys... instead of these bigots. Purity my ass. 'scuse my language. Like some Nazi KKK group. You'll be just fine, son. They're just here for this girl; once they've got her, we can get our city back and they'll be gone.”
Jack nodded and slowly got out of the car. It was far too late to convince the driver to take him somewhere else. He'd nervously bragged about the Mustang early in the trip, just to distract the driver from his incessant train of chatter. Any change now would be suspicious. He picked a path circling around the power armor, heading for the driver side door but being careful not to put himself into a blind side where the Knight was startled.
“This yours,” the question blasted at him out of the power armor's PA system. The sheer volume of it had him slamming his hands over his ears. “Sorry man, forgot the gain was still up for announcements over the gunship rotors earlier,” came the apology more quietly. “I was checking out your ride. You still have the original engine in this thing?”
“I... I think so,” Jack responded, hesitantly as he uncovered his ears. “I haven't had it long and I don't know all that much about cars. I just liked how it looks... and how it drives.”
There was a whining noise of servos as the power suit settled closer to the ground and the main hatch opened. The young man, probably in his late twenties, that got out of the unit had that military look to him. He was muscular without being heavily built, clean cut, and with closely cropped hair. The clothing he was wearing looked a lot like a flight suit a pilot might wear. He held out a hand as he approached Jack, who hesitantly took it.
“Jackson Daniels. I know, I know... don't say it.”
Jack blinked at him a couple times, confused.
“Jack... Daniels... right?” the Knight explained, shaking his head.
“Oh... ha... sorry, rough morning. Not sleeping well... Jack, also. Jack Rizeppi.”
“I understand... this stuff downtown. Has a lot of people shook up, its easy to support mutants and want them to have the same rights as everyone else... and then one of them does something like this. Tampa's lucky, you know. This Sexpot girl could have hit a city like New York or Chicago... someplace that early hours on a weekend wouldn't have been so empty. Don't worry. We'll get her. She'll be locked up tight in a facility designed for people like her. Where she'll never hurt anyone again. Not a chance,” he clapped Jack on the shoulder. “You mind if I take a look under the hood?”
“Uh... no... “ Jack stepped over to the front of the car and pulled the release through the grill. He'd been surprised when he'd first discovered that there was no lever or switch inside, that would prevent someone from opening the hood without having keys to get into the car. Evidently the old cliché about it being a simpler time applied to cars and car theft, too.
“Not a purist then, whoever had it before you,” Daniels pointed out. “Couple modifications to your cooling system here... and I think this is from a later model...”
Jack tried to follow what was being said, but even if he had known enough about cars; it was all he could do to not curl up and try to hide, or run as fast as he could, or turn into Jackie and let her deal with the situation. Of course, none of those were options. He knew that the only thing that was saving him right that moment was that the Knight was focused on something other than him personally. And that assumed he could even think through the buzzing sensation in the back of his neck that felt vaguely like the tingling lust of shifting. In the end though, it was his mutation that saved him. His stomach growled loudly enough that it startled both men.
“Uh.. sorry about that. Didn't eat this morning.”
“No problem, I've held you up long enough. Thanks for letting me take a look. She's a real beaut.”
“I got a great deal on her.”
Daniels started to get back into his power armor, then paused, “Remember. We'll get this girl. Don't let it mess up your day, or your sleep. We'll get her and she'll regret ever having done this to Tampa.”
The certainty in the Knight's voice sent a chill down Jack's spine and he stood there with his hands on the hood of the Mustang until the other man was back in his armor and started moving up the street. He circled around to the driver's seat and climbed into the car, even got the key into the ignition before the shakes started. Then, the outside world went away and for a while, Jack Rizeppi grieved.
Tampa, FL - Monday November 6, 2006 – 11:31
The look on his face as Baker came out of the Mayor's office suggested that things hadn't gone as smoothly as he had hoped. Even though the Dozen's position in Tampa was unofficial, he'd hoped he could sway the politician's opinion that the city could leave the hunt for this girl to other mutants. That they could get the Knights of Purity out of the city before things got out of hand. And it was clear that they were going to... both Handler and Vulture had already been hassled, as had one or two of the unaffiliated fliers. Simply for being able to fly. Like being able to soar at the pace any norm could pedal a bike had anything to do with someone who could fly at Mach 4.
If Kimmy hadn't been so insistent, he'd be inclined to simply give up the girl and let her take the bullet and let the rest of them go about their lives. But when she dug in her heels on something, the only thing they could do was ride it out. Something this kid could do made him seriously important to her plans, not that she was sharing what those plans were. Baker had long since realized that Kimmy Descadara was playing a long game... and no matter how close they were, he wasn't going to find out before she wanted to tell him. If...
“No luck then?” she asked him, as he reached the car.
“Nope. He says they have leads. They're following them.”
“Really?”
“That's what he said. What they told him,” Baker let her know just how much he trusted the Mayor with the smirk on his lips.
“Sounds like the government has information on how to identify and track mutants that no one knew they had.”
“Or they're spinning the info they have to make it sound good.” As he vented he was flashing dime sized ovens of air to about 1800 degrees between his fingers. Kimmy glared at him after the fourth oven collapsed. There was a light sheen of perspiration on her neck.
“It's a rental Baker, the AC can't keep up... and they're going to charge me extra for smoking in the damn thing.”
“Jesus, Kimmy... you never use rentals.”
“My cars aren't usually a victim of mutant destruction, and it takes time to have all the custom work done to replace it with one that can survive what having this team as passengers...” her cell phone chirped an interruption.
As soon as she glanced at the number, she switched it onto the external speaker so Baker could hear it.
“... sorry to call you... like... well... you said... you said you can... can help. I'm here... at the club... and... I need help. They're going to find me... and they're... they're going to take care of me. Please. I can't... I didn't mean to do it. Please help me?”
She gave Baker a smug smile and toggled the phone back to the regular speaker, “I'm on the road from downtown now, Jack. I should be there within a half hour. Can you wait for me? Good. Wait there, no one will bother you there. Yes. We'll see you soon.” She shut the phone down and slipped it back inside her purse.
“The boy?”
“I told you he would call.”
“You did. But what are you going to do with him now? Like the Mayor said, they have evidence, they're going to find him.”
“Baker dear. If the Mayor or the Feds had half a clue how to find him, they wouldn't still be looking for a woman. If there even is a sample, and it's for a woman; then it's of a woman who doesn't even currently exist anywhere in this world. Even with mutant help, it would take serious magic to make that connection. I'm not even entirely sure that would work, Jack is a very different person than his derivative forms. Tracking him through such tenuous connections might be possible if the mage knew about them; but it's not terribly likely without knowing how his power works. There are just too many variables.”
Baker looked at her carefully, weighing the concept in his mind. There had never been any doubt in his mind that she was smart, definitely smarter than him, but it was times like this that really worried him about just what her long games were leading towards. This was far too devious, too considered, to be a casual decision. How long had she been watching this Shifter, waiting to set him on this path? Could it really have been coincidence that led him to experience his manifestation in her club? Where she could get it on video?
“Baker. Stop cooking in my rental.”
He stopped himself from popping the oven between his fingers. “Damnit.”
Tampa, FL - Monday November 6, 2006 – 12:03
Dr. Malomer sat back in his chair in Van Two to gather his thoughts before turning his attention to the tracking data another one of his teams had pieced together. What was especially interesting about it was that it directly conflicted with the radar data that had been provided by the military. The girl had first been visible right on the Gulf coast northwest of the Hernando County Airport, just north of Bayport. She'd flown southwest along the coast until almost reaching Hudson, then veered more southeast to head straight towards Tampa. The most important part though was the time stamps on her appearance on radar; a flier at Mach 4 at low altitudes was moving at 3350 mph... which meant she would have covered the distance from her appearance at the coast to downtown Tampa, a straight line distance of around 35 miles, in about half a minute. Even taking the slightly more erratic path she had traveled, it would never have taken the nearly three minutes she had been on radar... despite the indications that she was moving over four times the speed of sound. In fact, there was every possibility that she hadn't broken the sound barrier at all... which made the shock wave and wind damage that surrounded her path even more curious.
Some energizers might project or disrupt a radar signature that could produce a false result on standard aircraft tracking systems. It was unusual to see an Energizer or an Electro-kinetic with flight, however, especially at this sort of speed... which was still significant despite being sub-sonic. An Electro-kinetic also wouldn't be likely to have developed the sort of fine control over their shell that would reduce drag and friction components without disrupting its armor value.
On the other hand, Warping could be involved in some fashion. It had been posited by one of the teams looking at the shockwave damage already, due to the unusual patterns of damage that could not be produced by standard wind or concussion effects. This was one more piece of data that might support that theory.
In either case, the girl was also an Exemplar. The DNA tests they had performed on the saliva coated piece of hair had indicated that she clearly fell into the high end of EX-4, which made her capable of surviving a great deal but not to the extent of the impacts she had taken. So there was still some additional factor involved in protecting her from damage, either a PK field, Warper effect, or another variation.
They had circulated her image to the retrieval and engagement teams. The gunships and remote control recon craft were all providing continual video footage from road and sidewalk traffic, to be fed into the facial recognition computer system. If the girl was still in Tampa, she would be found. It was only a matter of time now.
Garic looked out over the fields below, covered in wildflowers and emerald green grasses. The ravine leading into the valley from the Dark kingdoms had collapsed, along the entire length from what they'd been able to scout; and a good portion of the trails they had used would be extremely difficult to follow by anyone incapable of flying. In the other direction, however, a clear road had opened up. While they hadn't explored its full extent yet, there were good odds that it would lead into the heart of their own lands and provide easy access for the inhabitants of the Light Kingdoms to begin attunement quests for their own version of the Dark's monsterization process.
A number of the members of the Apropos ring had already begun the quest process, but only a couple had the ability to complete it right away. Himiriki the Bright was one of those few... the only surviving Battle-Mage had walked into the Font and emerged as a being of pure Light. He still had many of the magical skills typical of his original archetype, but it would now be much more difficult to disrupt his efforts; when channeling magic, his energy body dissipated completely until he ceased focusing on the spell. Gary was certain there would be more than a few threads in the game forums complaining about the overpowered status of a Battle-Mage that didn't have a physical body to maintain some vulnerability. Fortunately, the GEO designers seemed far less concerned with balance between archetypes than any other game he'd ever seen. They certainly didn't run around with nerf-bats like most of that sort.
Garic himself was delaying his completion of the attunement quest, while he considered the long term commitment that such a thing might cause. His own opportunity would place him in direct responsibility for protecting the Font, which could conflict with his ongoing efforts of leading the Ring. It could end up being more work than he had time for... but he was fairly certain he was going to try to make it work anyway. He would need to put a conscious effort into keeping the Font under the control of the Light until most of the guild had a chance to complete their quests anyway, including many who didn't meet the base requirements for the transformation yet. Like Terecia.
There were some... other concerns about Terecia to face first. More than one member of the guild had informed him that they had seen the Performer speak with the demoness and Dark Master at the Font before it had turned and that in rescuing Necina, she had used a Soul Thief and gained power from it. Necina had assured him that she had stopped the use of the Soul Thief before it had actually transferred anything into their newest member, but she couldn't explain how Terecia happened to stop the Huntsman just in time or been able to use the Soul Thief at all. It didn't help that the blade had since gone missing.
Jack hadn't stuck around after the battle. Terecia wasn't eligible for the quests, he'd said... so there was no point in waiting around while the rest of the guild did what they needed to. But the Performer had been the focus of the quests that led them here all along, so it was more than a little unsettling that she wasn't needed at the end of the battle in some way.
Gary suspected that there was a story there, one that he wasn't going to get by talking with Terecia in-game. That meant he needed to talk with Jack. Unfortunately, he'd found out that morning that Jack wasn't at work at the Emporium. He'd been out sick, even though he'd said nothing while playing the day before. And now he'd just flat out missed a shift. Worse yet, he'd put in a two week notice and as far as Gary knew, Jack didn't have anything else lined up. Something was wrong and when he'd shared his concerns with Nadial; she'd been even more worried than he was. The woman had always been extremely perceptive about people, and while it might just been the relationship that was coming to life between the two of them... she'd assured him it was more than that. He'd have to find Jack and confront him, somehow.
He was afraid that when he learned the truth, he was going to find that stripper in the middle of it. And that club in Tampa. And if that were true, then it would be all his fault for taking the kid there in the first place. He just prayed it hadn't gotten any worse than a little kinky sex and a woman manipulating an inexperienced kid into doing something stupid.