Shifter was so shocked at recognising the face beneath the helmet that his arms momentarily turned to jelly, and he dropped the helmet. It rolled irregularly on the bricked surface for a couple of turns before stopping. Its' owner picked it up but didn't put it back on.
"Lydia?" His face contracted into a look of sheer bewilderment. "That really you?"
She looked at him for a second, seemingly unsure how to respond. Instead of replying, she walked over and picked up the brick he'd dislodged for a moment, looking down at where it had come from. Then she looked straight at him and answered, "yes."
"But..."
He was cut off by her making a "shush" gesture with her gauntleted finger, whereupon she lifted an irregular circle of bricks, joined from below by a thick plate iron circle, which concealed a hole slightly wider than her armour.
"Now, you've recognised me. I can continue to flee, and you can run back to the Mayor with what you have learned, or we can talk. Down here, now. I'd far prefer to talk."
Shifter looked nervously at her. She sighed.
"I'm not a murderess - all I wanted was to be left alone, and that is hardly an option now. What happens now, is your choice."
Now, it was Reed's turn to sigh. He weighed the options. Given the way she was holding a sizeable chunk of brick and iron, she apparently had a level of strength surpassed amongst those he'd met only by Andromeda & the Hulk. That backed up her claim that she wasn't out to kill him, since with that strength level, she had to have been holding back, however sore he'd become. If he was safe enough, the question then was, was it worth it? And that was answered by the fact that he'd known her once, even if it was years earlier...
"I'll talk."
"Good." She paused and glared at his shoulder. "Leave the radio behind." He hesitated again, but she stared at him and he reluctantly dropped the commlink into the sewer water. She then beckoned him over, and he saw the narrow, deep pipe under the irregular gap in the bricks, and the ladder-like steps embedded in the side of it. Warily, with one eye on her, he stepped down.
As he climbed downward, he heard her place the brick he'd dislodged back into the lid with a "click", and then looked up to see her sitting on the rim of the hole, helmet loosely over her head, looking down to check where he was. As he reached the bottom, she brought it down and the already-oppressive darkness became total.
Completely blind, he pushed himself into the side of the pipe, and wondered what he'd got himself into.
She reached the base far quicker than he had, and he heard a click and the sound of something moving. He felt her reach for his hand, and took it, followed by her guiding him down a short, pitch-black corridor into a small room with a slight draught. She lit a candle and he blinked furiously, suddenly blinded by even the dim light with his huge, dark-adjusted eyes. He shrank them to something more like normal and looked at her.
She had removed the helmet again, and was inspecting the edges of it for signs of damage. Apparently satisfied no serious damage had been done, she set it down on a protruding nail in the rough-stone wall, and pulled two snack bars from a bag which hung on another nail and offered one to him.
"Well, you look... striking... now, Reed."
"And you don't?" A thick, raised eyebrow appeared above Reed's left eye as he reached for the bar. "Been following me or the Legion in general?"
"The latter - I thought this might happen one day, given a certain person's paranoia. Although I must say, I was surprised to see Shifter was 'Reed Daggly', and I could not expect there are many people with that name in this world." A giggle had just about crept into her voice after his name, but she sobered up as she continued, "I don't know whether I should say 'Sorry' or 'Congratulations' at what's happened."
"A bit of both, I expect. And I can't expect there are many Lydia Graths out there, penchant for dressing in black men's armour or no. Nightwatchman? Really?"
"I did not choose the name - I'd prefer not to be known at all in this guise, but I gained enough infamy to be named by the press. And the armour is... a matter of practicality."
"Right, well, you wanted to talk. It sounds like you've heard how I got to this point, what about you? How'd you end up as Superbatgirl?"
Lydia paused a moment. Then she gave a long sigh, sat back against the wall, sighed again and started talking, "I suppose it starts with my father. Almost a year after you left, something triggered a reaction for the first time in some time - perhaps I was careless, or someone else had left some windows open. But regardless of the cause, I had to stay in the 'inside rooms' for weeks, and my father became more worried than ever.
As a result, he made an offer to a pharmaceutical company - he would work for them for them for free, in return for two days a week of research and development time to work at improving my condition and the staff to support him. Knowing my father's expertise, they agreed provided we would move here.
Two years later, he felt he had something which might help - and which had been tested so that, to his satisfaction, it would not harm me, Desperate for some relief, I took it. It didn't do me any harm, but if there was an improvement it was marginal." Her voice dropped a little. "Soon afterward, he had a severe heart attack - he survived, but he was left bedridden and is still very frail. As he could not travel, the arrangement had to be ended.
Shortly after my father's illness began, however, I began to notice changes. People almost seemed to glow. Frightened, but not wanting to burden my father, I said nothing.
Do you remember how, despite my condition, I was always afraid of the dark, and insisted on having some 'safe' light source around?"
"Indeed."
"Well, as a result, it was only when the power was cut during a storm one night that I realised what the glowing was - I could see heat as well as light, which meant I could see in the dark. It was amazing... and it was then that I first began to notice the other change."
"The strength? You mean that's not part of the armour?"
"Only tangentially. Strong light, even when it is not bright enough to burn me, dampens my strength, and even in the pitch-black night then, I was only just stronger. My strength has built though - sometimes, when I wear this, it seems almost limitless. And yet, I'm still as trapped by the sun as I've ever been, like a vampire. If you were to hand me over to the Mayor, or even give him my name, I would be at their mercy." Her eyes had dropped as she mentioned the sun, but as she admitted that she would be at their mercy, she raised her face and stared straight into his eyes.
"But, you're still breaking the law, Lydia - you can't just take the law into your own hands."
"'All that is needed for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.' Edmund Burke is supposed to have said that, do you remember? I believe that it applies to women too. On average, I save two people a night from being mugged, raped or murdered in individual crimes alone.
In addition, there is a human trafficking gang operating in this city, using innocent women and children as prostitutes and slaves." Up until this point, her voice had been soft, but as she continued, it began to build, "As long as I have the power to do something about it, I cannot let that go! In the past month, I have freed fifty women from being forcibly used in brothels across this city, and handed them to one of the charities I run to be helped. I'm sorry, but if obeying the law means leaving people to be raped, tortured and killed then the law is an ass and I want no part of it!"
Shifter was shocked into silence by her sudden anger, and she followed up, softly spoken once more, with "You don't know the Mayor at all, do you?"
"No," he was forced to admit.
"Have you ever heard of him before today?"
"No... all I really know, if I'm going to be honest, is that he Officially Requested our help, and that he gave a long speech about 'the need to adhere to the law' when we arrived."
"Ha." Lydia didn't laugh, she pronounced it as a word. "His order, and his law, as it suits him. His father was the mayor here, and his grandfather before him, and he himself has been mayor for almost thirty years. It seems to be effectively a monarchy, trappings of democracy or no. And he knows it, and he uses it. Was I a 'rogue element' this time?"
"Ah, not exactly..."
"A 'disease' then?"
"Umm... yes."
She looked down and shook her head slowly for a moment, then said, "This gang couldn't operate here without his implicit consent. Indeed, although I wouldn't wage money on it, it would not surprise me in the slightest to find that, ultimately, he ran it himself. Far better to call in an international super-powered task force, who are only meant to deal with immediate and serious threats to life, to deal with someone who is saving lives than to do anything about it."
Reed shifted slightly in his seat as she brought up the charter issue Lyle had pointed out to him earlier in the day. If she noticed, however, she didn't pause as she continued...
"Still, if breaking the law is automatically wrong, let's see, doesn't your official Legion web page say that you were transformed after knocking out and impersonating the Legion's designated co-pilot, an officer in the United States Air Force, on a mission to Cambodia?"
"Yes..."
"Should we attempt to tease out how many laws you admit to breaking in that sentence alone? Or how long you would have been in prison if you had been charged and convicted?"
"I'd rather not..."
There was silence for a few moments, as the candle flickered in the draught.
Eventually, she looked at him again, and her expression softened... "I'm sorry Reed, I'm not trying to just bludgeon you into submission." He snorted, but she continued, "It... I am doing good here, and whatever else happens I can't just... stand by and let murders, rapists and profiteers from misery go without doing everything I can to stop them. It is why I do this.
And now you essentially have it in your power to stop me. I said I could run, but, if I'm honest, that stopped being true when you saw my face. I can't abandon my father, and everything else I do would have to stop.
So I have to continue, unless you give me to the Mayor to be captured. What will you do?"
"For someone who isn't trying to bludgeon me, you, you do a good impression of it." The short tentacles atop Shifter's head moved like sea anemones in the tides. "Can't you, I don't know, do more elsewhere to make up for it?"
"Reed, I don't just fund charities - I run three, personally, and that takes up almost all of my 'day' time. There is a limit on what else I can do, personally, especially when I can't go out in daylight. If I was to stop, or forcibly be stopped, the only differences, other than the Mayor's personal satisfaction, will be that more attacks will be allowed to happen unchallenged, and that more women will continue to be abused without hope of rescue."
Shifter looked down at the floor. He felt like he was in a lose-lose situation. He didn't doubt that what she said was true, but on the other hand the Mayor was right in his way too - people bopped on the head by a vigilante, however well meaning, were hard to get a conviction on. But on the other hand, if she was actually saving people, rather than them dying or being traumatised, that was preferable to that happening even if those at fault were later convicted, surely...
Lydia saw that he was wavering, and decided on a high-risk strategy. "Come with me."
"Huh?"
"When you intercepted me, I was intending to close another forced brothel. Now, time's running short. Come with me, help me save those women." _________
What convinced Reed to go the extra mile and actually help her wasn't Lydia's words, passionate as they were - though, on her own, she could probably have convinced him to let her be. What led him to do it was the memory of Lyle's words in his head - 'Intel. We don't have any....this is political rather than anything to do with our mandate of 'preventing, containing or solving a serious and immediate risk to life'...legally we shouldn't be involved, and it sets a precedent that makes me livid... If Cos had been in charge when that came down - or Irma, or me, or even sprocking Chuck - an order like that, coupled with an almost complete absence of info, would have been bounced right back.' And it had practically confirmed by the Mayor himself.
They'd been sent on an illegal mission, blind. Success would only encourage them to repeat it.
Well, that was how he rationalised it, anyway, as he followed Lydia in climbing from her bolthole, shifted into a near-copy of her armour.
"Where are we going?" Without an actual opening, his voice was muffled, but she heard him even through her helmet.
"This way." She pointed in a direction, while he jumped at the deep, male voice coming from her.
"It's from a children's toy. It works for the little speaking I do like this. Now shush." _________
Finding it was simple - clearly, Lydia worked at getting good intel, he thought pointedly, as they stood in a nearby alley, having just come up from through a manhole cover.
"Is there anything I should know?" he mumbled
"Sometimes they shoot at me."
"What?"
"The armour's thick, and I have two bulletproof vests, a steel-plate stab-proof vest and several layers of "stab-proof" fabric. The form's for protection, not to be androgynous."
"I meant, 'why didn't you tell me this?'"
"If you want to leave, then you still can."
Bullets mostly worked by ripping apart internal organs, Shifter thought. For someone who didn't have any... "No, but you should have told me-"
"It's too late for that now. Are you staying, or are you going?"
"Well, I'm staying, but-"
"Come then..." She started moving... _________
Two hours later (1am):
It had been a rout. With 'protection' from the police and any rival gangs, they hadn't been ready for a super-strong armoured woman and a shapeshifting glob in armoured form and it had all been over in a few minutes. What had taken longer - almost an hour - was for Lydia to gain the trust of the six women enough for them to follow her to the haven she'd had one of her charities set up. Shifter, not speaking their language, just tried to stay inconspicuous as he could - while needing to stay in the form of something which was about as inconspicuous as a tank.
Now, they were back in another of Lydia's boltholes - as she'd explained, she usually hid for a few hours after doing anything major, as it got the Mayor uncommonly excited. She had her helmet off, he had returned to his standard form, and both clutched drinks which had been hot ten minutes earlier. A comfortable silence had descended when he realised the time, and reluctantly spoke up.
"I need to go, you realise - we were due to fly back three hours ago."
"You were confident," she smiled.
"Not in the least, actually - we knew next to nothing about you. But we weren't allowed to have a hand in the planning."
"And do you still know next to nothing about me?" She put her drink down and looked him in the eye. "I need to know Reed." And something about the way she stared made his non-existent stomach leap.
"I won't say anything Lydia. I promise. But I can't promise we won't be dragged out here again, charter or no."
"In my experience, you should promise what you can, and accept what you can't." She smiled. His 'heart' leapt this time. "You should go."
He stood up, "I know about, well, you know; but if you ever make it to New York, contact me."
"I will." She smiled again, and he turned and went quickly. __________________
He was back on the plane from earlier in the day. He'd been found, "dazed" and lost by a police car and brought in after Gear had spotted him on CCTV. He'd explained that he'd eventually been pounded to the point he couldn't take any more, and had reverted to his gelatinous form, losing his radio at some point. It hadn't been a million miles from the truth.
The Cathingham cops hadn't been happy, but Lyle had already made it *very* clear to them by at that point that they needed to go as soon as they found him.
Now, sat back in the darkened plane, with Gear and Starboy asleep, Lyle suddenly spoke up. "One thing - Gear thought he saw two Nightwatchmen at one point in the night. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Shifter concentrated as hard as he could on keeping a straight face. "How could I? I was an unconscious blob in the sewer for hours, if you recall."
Lyle raised an eyebrow briefly, but said "I'll leave that mention out of the report then. An unreliable glimpse, it was probably just a shadow," and lay back in his seat to shut his eyes, a grin seeping over the edges of his mouth. ____________________________________
EPILOGUE
Later that day:
Lydia sat back and sighed loudly before checking her watch. Three minutes grace before her next appointment seemed like the most she'd had all day to reflect on the night before. Her secret ID had been compromised, and while she thought she could trust Reed, it was far from out of the question that they could try again, sending someone who could cause her real problems - Kinetix perhaps, or Live Wire. Or, worst, Tela. She would have to be more careful in future to avoid that sort of encounter. Of course, with that in mind, she'd already been searching for help, and...
There was a buzz, and her secretary's voice broke her reverie. "Your three o'clock is here."
She sighed before pressing the intercom's reply button. "Ask her to step in then, please."
A moment later, the door opened, and the interviewee came in, asking "Lady Grath?" While tall, clearly strong and dressed in a smart trouser suit, her whole body language radiated nerves as she flicked at her long braid, and Lydia wondered for a moment how deep rooted they were, with what she knew of her history. Still, one reason to do interviews..."
"It's just 'Ms. Grath' if you have to be so formal, but 'Lydia' would be fine," she said with a broad grin, "I never use the title." She stretched out her hand, and they shook hands firmly. "Please, have a seat Ms. Gander."
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Though it was no where near the top speed Monius Elysius could fly at, it was the fastest Spirit has ever moved in her entire life. He flew directly to the building below, traveling across the airspace of numerous countries with an abrupt ease, though his chiseled features let on no hint of a smile. Tina stole away a few glances at him, feeling almost weightless in his arms, and she couldn’t help but stare at his handsome face. He had a sort of rugged handsomeness that was, well, uncommon these days. Truly he was a warrior of two thousand years earlier, hardened by a much harder world. There was something good about him, of course, which was why all of them had been drawn to him immediately. But there was something much more…something dangerous and strong. Despite herself, she felt an attraction, though she hated the thought of coming between Mon and Tatiana, since there was already some sort of unspoken connection there (and Tina was not blind to these types of social behavior—quite the opposite really). “Down below there…” she said in almost a whisper, her slender arms pulling her mouth closer to his ear to make sure he would hear. He would. His hearing was just about better than almost anyone on the planet.
So Monius Elysius descended into Vienna, the capital of Austria, and the home of Princess Tamara Wazzo (Tina to her friends). It also just so happened that as he did so, there was more than enough media to witness his arrival, as rumors about his existence became much less than rumors from here on. Spirit, the Austrian Princess who became one of the original Legionnaires, was a pure celebrity in her home country—and indeed the world—as there was no Austrian girl who did not fantasize about being her at this point, and no boy in all the world who did not fantasize about dating her, given her tremendous beauty and obvious confidence. But she would speak nothing about the young man who carried her back home that afternoon, though every reporter and cameraman in shouting distance called out to her. She had promised him she would not.
“Mother will outraged and scandalized that I’ve arrived like this,” she said, Maziah’s spell of understanding between the twelve of them still working despite her distance away. “So I expect she’ll be screaming at us shortly. She can be quite scary…”
“I don’t scare too easy,” smiled Mon. “The others will hopefully arrive this evening according to Dirk. Then we can all rest for awhile…at last…” he added, thinking about Tenz, Hasim, Tatiana and Dirk, who had suffered greatly in the Gulag of the Dark Circle. It brought back fresh anger, to know they were tortured so badly…simply because they were different.
“I’ll have food and beds prepared,” said Spirit, as they walked into the Castle of the Royal Family of Wazzo, an off-shoot of the ancient Hapsburg family, former rulers of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Her mother, the Countess Winema, was a prominent member of the European Union (on the Budgetary Committee), as well as being a member of the United Nations. Some families, of course, knew how to remain in power as customs such as monarchy held less sway over the centuries. Despite her occasional eccentricities (claiming the Austro-Hungarian Empire would one day rise again), she was a political powerhouse with a ferocious intellect that she used as her second greatest weapon—the greatest, of course, being her lack of mercy in the political arena. Above all, what caused the Countess the most distress in her life currently was the fact that her only daughter (and only heir) had decided to join the ridiculous “Legion of Super-Heroes” in New York City. And unfortunately for Tina, her mother was indeed home at the moment, playing host to a large array of global politicians.
Tina would learn all of that shortly, as she and Mon were greeted by the various household servants. Mon pulled off his cloak (his ‘cape’ to the Legionnaires in their company). “Vienna…” he said out loud, “…it didn’t exist during my time, though the Empire was on its way here. I would think there must be some Roman influence in this city?” he asked her.
“Indeed,” she smiled, “the city began as a Roman Army camp. Many European cities did,” she smiled. He smiled in return. Stop it Tina, she thought, but couldn’t help herself. “The media will be camped outside the castle until we leave now, dying to know who you are. Once our ‘friends’ arrive, they definitely won’t be leaving.
“It seems they have other things on their minds as well,” said Mon, nodding toward a television set, a concept which he had only become recently acquainted with.
”The Khund Menace!” yelled the man on the screen. “The biggest threat to our security in our age right now, and not a thing is being done about it! When will the U.N. show some teeth? Maybe this latest gathering of politicians in Austria will present us with something useful…but I doubt it! Once more, it will be up to us and our American allies to deal with the larger global threat. This is Jack Ryder, signing off.”
“I know nothing about this Khund Menace,” said Mon, “but the people of this world have no idea about what a true threat to their security is…as the Dark Lord in the East continues to rise.”
--------------------------------------------
Berlin, Germany
An older gentleman, dressed in a fine business suit, clean cut with gray hair and the type of man that grows more attractive as he ages, sat having a glass of scotch, neat, watching the news. Focused on Austria, it showed what looked like a man with a flowing blue cape, flying into Vienna carrying the Legionnaire known as Spirit. The media, it appeared, were in a frenzy attempting to uncover the man’s identity.
Marla Latham knew exactly who he was, and had been concerned about he and his friends since their parting in India. Now he knew where he’d be going to next, it seemed.
---------------------------------------------
Yemen
The Dark Lord sat up on his thrown, looking to the West and seeing far with his omniscient eyes. Many of his servants sat in his presence in silence, not daring to look directly upon him. Azmodeus, the feline, curled around his feet. The defeat of Vykros has inspired his wrath in a way not done in two decades. Yet, the power shown by his daughter Maziah was somewhat pleasing to him. Perhaps she had some fire in her after all.
Yet, enough was enough. The time had come to bring her home, and to vanquish her allies too. His ancient foe, Blok, was among them, and he had begun to assemble many who might hold a grudge against him. But there was little they would be able to do the Dark Lord, when they were but a company of children and he had power that had leveled armies and continents many times over. “Bring me the man called Blood.”
His voice echoed in the hallway, and brought fresh tears to the eyes of those weakest among his servants.
Now Mordru was ready to end this charade, bring his daughters home and show her the many forms that torment could take.
[ February 06, 2008, 10:21 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
While Tina dealt with making preparations and politically avoiding her mother at all costs, Mon became even more unapproachable than ever (as just about everyone began outright avoiding the rooms and hallways he was brooding in), the rest of the Company at last grew closer to Austria, until at last they entered the country and reached Vienna.
Princess Jacquie looked out the window as a light rain began to descend and breathed a heavy sigh. Her platinum bangs fells at her forehead and she felt too tired to brush them away.
“What is it Princess?” said Val, the Legionnaire known as Valor. “You suddenly look sad.”
“We’re close to where my country is…was…I suddenly wish we had stopped there.”
Val knew she was thinking about Sarya and the betrayal she felt when her lifelong friend became “The Emerald Empress”. Such a betrayal was not something you ever got over, no matter how much time had passed.
Hasim seemed to move closer, and once more Dirk noticed that whenever Val approached Jacquie, Hasim would somehow always end up in the space between him. This brought Dirk a secret delight, to know that Hasim was not some emotionless bully, but actually had feelings. Dirk wrapped his arms around Jacquie, and she smiled at his display of affection. “No worries Jacq,” he said, “soon we’ll be living it up like the old days…the Princess treatment for you, the celebrity treatment for me…even Tenz can eat real food again, instead of rocks and chains and all that other stuff…”
“Haha, Sun Boy,” said Tenz, walking over too now, as they all prepared to get off the train. Dirk hated the moniker Sun Boy, which is what the media nicknamed him when he was a young male super-model. He had outgrown it several years ago. “While you were all sleeping on the train, Condo and I started coming up with our new codenames.”
Everyone groaned.
“What?” laughed Condo, “like I said, we Legionnaires have them, and you all are young super-powered teenagers on some obviously benevolent quest…so…you know…”
“Well, except Blok,” added Tenz.
“Blok is all you need call me,” said Blok from the back of the train car, and everyone laughed and giggled. Maziah, who was right next to him, smiled and rested her head on his arm.
“We, uh, got that Blok,” said Tenz. But besides Sun Boy, we have Shadow Lass for Tatiana…”
“I hate it,” said Tatiana, trying to mock anger but laughing despite herself. She had been mad for awhile that Mon had moved on ahead with Spirit, but the constant goofing around by Tenz, Condo and Dirk had put her in a good mood.
Tenz was laughing now at Tatiana. “Oh, still in a great mood, I see. Well, besides Shady and Sun Boy, we have ol’ Nemesis over here, right Hasim?” Hasim snarled at him.
“Better stop while you’re ahead Tenz,” said Dirk with a smile.
Vi walked over to them, pointing at the papers. “Look at the headlines,” she said. “All everyone is talking about is Khundia. Apparently we’re arriving here at the same time many of the world’s politicians are. Maybe we can sneak in unnoticed.”
“That’s doubtful,” said Val, looking at their rag-tag group. While the three Legionnaires among them (Catalyst, Valor and Shrinking Violet) had costumes, the others looked like they had been to hell and back, which wasn’t too far removed from the truth. Not to mention Tatitana’s skin had begun to turn blue, and had now become a deep blue color that was noticeable upon first glance, and Blok was a large rock-type creature that towered above them all.
“Oh ye of little faith,” said Jacquie. “Some of us have abilities more subtle than others…but equally as useful,” she added, as she cast an illusion to cover them.
-----------------------------------
At last, the Company finally arrived at Castle Wazzo, where they would be fed, bathed and given proper sleeping quarters and clothing for the first time in quite a long time. But not before one final series of awkward introductions took place. As the ten friends arrived, Tina phased through the doors to come out to meet them. Before questions of surprise and ‘where’s Mon?’ could be spoken, she embarrassingly informed them that her mother would like to meet them all first before they arrived. “She thinks you’re all Legionnaires, and well, I didn’t feel like getting into the entire explanation. So…this isn’t exactly going to help my cause of getting her to think better of the Legion.”
Condo smiled. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as anything other than uber-confident before. Its part of your charm. So this mother of yours…well, this should be interesting.”
Dread passed over her face. “This is going to be a nightmare,” said Tina, as she opened the doors.
As the doors opened, the caught a glimpse of Mon standing off to the side, dressed in t-shirt, jeans, boots and a blazer, obviously clothes Tina had gotten for him, as he was no fan of the 21st style of dress. His voice was void of any emotion and he was quiet, but those that were beginning to know him well, Tatiana prime among them, knew he was very annoyed. In front of them was a brunette woman, in her early forties, and very attractive. She wore a business suit with a skirt bottom, white-colored so that it matched Spirit’s Legion uniform in an odd way. To both her left and right were a series of others dressed in business suits, each one with an air of importance that spoke volumes: they were either delegate friends of the Countess, or her business associates.
The Legionnaires suddenly felt tawdry in their bright-colored costumes and the others simply felt embarrassed at their ragged appearance, after spending weeks on the road, some of which they had been imprisoned, tortured, or huddled in blankets amongst each other. Dirk, usually brash and ready to step to the forefront of every conversation felt the ambassador’s eyes fall on him like a hammer, and both Tenz and Tatiana felt themselves shrinking backwards. Maziah felt a bold annoyance but was silent and Blok seemed to have not a care in the world to discuss matters with these people. Hasim was close to outright hostility, though he was far enough in the back to go unnoticed. But soon all their eyes focused solely on Jacquie, as it was she who stood first and foremost and her regal manner was shown forth like a shining star. She didn’t draw their attention to her—she demanded it. Perhaps because she realized the others felt like they were pinned between a rock and a hard place, or perhaps because being her among these “Important” people reminded her of her old life. Whatever the reason, she stood up strait and walked forward.
“Madame Countess,” she began without being asked, “forgive our appearances. The road has been long and often unkind, and we are honored by your hospitality and your generosity. Please know that we will not stay long and while we are here, we will do our best to be the least inconvenience possible.” She bowed before the Countess, who was suddenly speechless. She had not expected Jacquie’s diplomacy. Indeed, she expected a more brash and loud entrance characteristic of groups of teenagers; she had expected a group like her own daughter.
“It is no inconvenience at all,” said Countess Winema quickly, recovering. “You’ll understand our shock at your appearance, but I am sure it is a tale you Legionnaires will gladly tell us about over dinner.” Winema eyed Jacquie longer and the silence was deafeningly loud. “I apologize child, but do I know you?” she at last asked.
“Indeed,” said the woman directly to her left. “Winema, this is Princess Jaqueline Projectra of Moldavia.” The woman turned to Jacquie personally. “You have my deepest sympathies Princess.”
“Indeed, all of ours,” said the man directly to this last woman’s left.
“Thank you,” replied Jacquie.
“Forgive me,” said Winema. “Allow me to introduce my own guests. This is Maya Dahanayake, United Nations Ambassador of Sri Lanka,” she said, motioning her hand to the woman who had professed her sympathies to Jacquie. She was younger than Winema, in her mid-thirties, but had a confident look about her. “This is Alton Relnic of Ireland, known among the political world as the Cicero of our time,” she said, oozing sarcasm as she said so. Relnic was an older man, in his fifties, though still somewhat handsome. He had a biting look to him, as if he could cut you to pieces if he chooses to. Jacquie had heard of him before, as had Dirk and Tatiana. He was a very prolific political figure and very well-liked, at least in their parts of the world growing up. “Does that make you Mark Anthony, Winema? Said Relnic with a smile, though Winema ignored it. “George Whittington of the United States, also an Ambassador of the United Nations,” she added, motioning her hand to a hard looking man, slightly overweight with short jet-black hair. “Howdy,” he said with a nod and a smile. “And lastly, this is Gil Deshi of Burma,” she said, motioning to a shorter man with a thick moustache who waved hello to them all. There were others, but apparently, though Dirk, they didn’t warrant an introduction by Winema, so that must mean they’re the assistants and support staff of the various ambassadors.
“The pleasure if all ours,” said Jacquie. “We appreciate your coming to meet us as we arrived.”
“Not a problem,” said George Whittington, “I was hoping to get a look at some of you Legionnaires myself. Making your country…countries proud.”
“That’s debatable George,” said Winema and some of them laughed. “Either way, we will let you all get cleaned up, and look forward to talking with you in the next few days. The Ambassadors will be staying here in Vienna while you are here.”
“Great…” said Tina with her own sarcasm oozing, drawing a look of daggers from her mother.
The delegates walked away, and Mon could hear Parker saying to Relnic “Well, that was a welcome distraction…I guess its back to Khundia?” Mon was surprised when he heard Relnic say “don’t think I don’t realize that to you George, the two are the same topic…” Mon had a pretty strong notion what that meant, even if the Legionnaires had no clue. He had been a soldier for half of his life after all and knew full well how military decisions were made.
“Mon?” said Tatiana realizing he was distracted. He could tell by her face she wasn’t completely thrilled with him at the moment. He had not a clue why. He forced a smiled. “You need rest,” he said, and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked into his eyes, and any anger faded away quickly. What was it about him? He smiled. “I can’t take these types of situations without you,” he whispered to her. “Politicians in any century annoy me beyond belief.” She smiled back.
As the Legionnaires took in the majesty of the castle, a servant approached Tina. “Princess? You have an urgent phone call, and he insisted we not turn him away, as he is well-connected here in Austria. A Mr. Marla Latham?”
[ February 12, 2008, 10:52 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Mon-El flew above the streets of Berlin, once more impressing his passengers with his effective mode of travel, though this time there were two: Spirit, once more, and Tatiana Mallor, this time insisting she come along too. In her mind, Ms. Princess Legionnaire Tina Wazzo had spent enough time with Mon. For weeks she had felt a connection with Mon that she soon realized was mutual when he at last kissed her in Sakkim, India. And since then she’d been captured by the Dark Circle, near tortured, huddled for survival with her friends and then recovering, most of the time split from him, and left confused on what that kiss in Sakkim meant.
And just when they finally had a few moments together, Spirit received a call from Marla Latham, of all people, saying he was not that far away. Mr. Latham had been quite friendly to them in Sakkim and a lot of the time it sure felt like they didn’t have many friends. Spirit was more than happy to make a side-trip to Berlin, but when Marla suggested over the phone that with Mon they could see him in pretty quick time through a more expeditious mode of travel, she knew Mon would agree to it. After all, they were all worried about their friend Baksheesh and what happened to him. “Kid Psycho” as he sometimes called himself was also one of their few friends and they felt terrible leaving him behind. But she wasn’t just going to let Mon and Spirit take off without her again.
But to be honest, now she regretted ‘forcing’ herself to come along. She didn’t want to be pushy—that was the last thing she wanted. And Mon was so hard to read. Spirit could feel the tension too, and she didn’t say a word to either of them the entire way over there.
At last, they began to descend. “Mon-El,” said Spirit, quickly adopting the nickname that Tenz had created for Monius Elysius. “…Mr. Latham said to meet him at the Swissotel Berlin in the hotel lobby…we’re close but you’re still a few blocks away.”
“Yes,” said Mon, as they touched down. “But unlike you, I’ve seen Marla Latham before and remember what he looks like. And I found him as we were approaching. He’s not in the hotel lobby. He’s a few blocks away, walking through the streets.”
“But he said he’d meet us?” said Tatiana. She liked Marla Latham a lot when she met him. They all did. There was something fatherly about him. And after weeks on the road with no one but their own age, it felt good to have him around. Not to mention most of them had terrible daddy-issues, she thought, but no need to go into that now.
“Why would he lie?” asked Spirit.
“He might not be intentionally doing it,” said Tatiana, a bit too quickly, as if this could very well turn into an argument. Mon said nothing, choosing to ignore the comment.
“I didn’t mean he was being deceitful…” said Tina
“I know…I’m sorry,” said Tatiana, “…I’m tired…I probably shouldn’t have come…” she added, looking towards Mon, who wasn’t looking at either one of them. What neither realized was he was using his vision to look through three blocks of buildings to scan for Marla.
“Ahead, about three blocks up,” Mon said finally. “Then another two over. He’s in an alley way…he’s just kind of standing there, peering into the shadows. Very odd. But we might as well check it out.”
“Okay,” said Spirit, as she began making her way over to him by phasing through the walls.
“And for the record,” said Mon, “I’m glad you came,” he said to Tatiana, scooping her up and flying over. She tried to hide her smile from him.
Mon made it over there first, putting Tatiana down, surprisingly Marla Latham as they were suddenly right next to him. “Give an old man a heart attack, why don’t you?” he said with a smile. The alley way they were in was very dark.
“What are you doing?” asked Tatiana curiously.
“I’m looking for the blue devil of Berlin,” he said with a laugh. “A young man I believe is in desperate need of some kind words and common sense, since apparently, he’s been made to believe he’s a demon sent by some dark deity to bring hell upon this Earth.”
“Well, Maziah’s spell is finally wearing off,” said Mon. “Because I have no clue what you’re talking about…”
Just then Tina phased through a brick wall, coming out into the alleyway, entering a part completely surrounded in shadow. Though the others couldn’t see into the shadowed corner, Tina suddenly realized she had just phased through an actual person, completely hidden in the shadows. It was one of the young man’s powers, after all. Kurt Wagner could make himself completely invisible to the naked eye when hidden in shadows. Just like he could teleport great distances in a puff of smoke, leaving behind the smell of brimstone and fire. Which is exactly what he did not, teleporting below them into the alleyway, exposing himself to the others.
“Ah!” he yelled. “A ghost has come for me! Truly, I am a devil—that other phantasms and evil creatures would come forth to find me!” Again he teleported quickly, so that Marla, Tatiana and Mon turned behind them to see him again, as Tina joined them.
“Wait!” yelled Marla, “I’m here to help you! You’re the Nightcrawler! I’ve been reading up on you in the papers and the internet!”
“Yes, the Nightcrawler,” said Kurt Wagner, “and the people of Berlin loath me!” he said, teleporting again. Mon-El suddenly flew at super-speed towards, him, wrapping his arms around him.
“Easy, friend,” said Mon-El…”calm down, no one is here to hurt—“ he was cut off as Nightcrawler suddenly swung his feet up and kicked Mon in the face, then teleported out of his arms again, this time towards Tina, who had now become solid, and nailed her and Marla Latham backwards with his blue pointy tail. He was blue-furred and had the features of a demon…pointy ears, a demonic face, and three fingers on each hand, with three toes on each foot.
“The lord is my shepherd…” he began, and then began to mumble a prayer to him, closing his eyes, and teleporting again into the shadows.
“ENOUGH!” said Tatiana suddenly very loudly. She stepped forward into the shadows. “You are scared, and for that, I cannot blame you. I’ve been pretty scared myself lately. But you must calm yourself,” she added, and suddenly she called forth a cascade of darkness, completely enveloping her, so that the entire section of the alleyway was closed off. Both of them were now covered in darkness. “Look at me Nightcrawler,” she said. “Look at my skin. You call yourself a demon…if that’s the case…then what does that make me?” she asked, and the pain in her words was very real. All of the emotion she had kept bottled up revealed itself, and her fears of becoming something less than human showed forth.
Not far off, the others could hear her loudly, and her words broke both Marla and Mon’s hearts. Spirit, who up until now couldn’t help but wonder why Tatiana was being so bitchy towards her, suddenly felt a great deal of empathy for her.
In the shadows, Kurt Wagner could see Tatiana perfectly, and he thought she was absolutely beautiful. He began to calm down, as the shadows always helped him stay calm, and took in her beauty. “You are no demon,” he said in German, though Maziah’s spell allowed the teenagers to understand him perfectly (causing Mon-El to reflect that this was yet another language Marla Latham seemed to speak flawlessly). “And I am sorry for my attack. My interactions with others as of late…have not been pleasant.”
“Mine either,” said Tatiana. “But I hope that will soon change. Come down now and speak with us. We are all different here. We are all like you.” She offered her hand to him, and he took it.
An hour later, the three teenagers and Marla Latham had become acquainted with Kurt Wagner, known as the Nightcrawler according to some popular German blogs. Marla planned to help get him on his feet and perhaps help him figure out a way to make a life for himself. Tina was almost ready to offer him a place among their little group, but Mon-El shook his head not to. Mon understood full well what was ahead of them. To Mon, Spirit’s thoughts of them all joining the Legion were nothing but delusions—it would just endanger more people. There was no use offering admittance to their little club to this young man, when he might just end up another victim of the Dark Lord Mordru. Tatiana felt bad for Kurt, and for the first time, found herself agreeing with Spirit rather than Mon.
“I look forward to our next meeting,” Nightcrawler said to Tatiana.
“As do I,” she replied with a smile. “We’ll come and visit you sometime.”
“I would like that very much,” he replied.
“And I,” said Marla Latham, “will now be coming to visit you. I should be there within two or three days, after I help Kurt here take care of a few things. Will you be in Vienna for the next few days?”
“I believe so,” said Tina. “Notwithstanding some reason for us to leave…”
---------------------------
As various politicians, businessmen and aristocrats gathered in Vienna, to unofficially discuss the Khundian Menace under the guise of being Winema Wazzo’s house guests, another Lord made his journey to Vienna as well. This Phantom Lord, however, was under the control of Mordru the Merciless.
Blood was his specialty, and Blood was his name. Jason Blood…though it wasn’t he that would do the dark lord’s bidding. Two men, dressed commonly in t-shirts, jeans and jackets, served their lord Mordru by ensuring that when the time came, they would utter the words to their unfortunate guest that would ensure the true servant of Mordru would arise:
”Gone, gone, form of man, Behold the Demon, Etrigan”
[ February 05, 2008, 04:16 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“So when are Mon and Shady getting back?” said Tenz to Maziah and Dirk.
“Shady?” said Maziah with a big smile. “As in…”
“Shadow Lass. The codename I’ve given her,” smiled Tenz.
“You’ve got to give it up,” said Dirk. “I’m not going to be called Sun Boy and she’s not going to be called Shadow Lass.”
“So you’re telling me they’re off doing the hanky panky. Okay, I’m cool with that.”
“Tenz…” said Maziah, poking him. “Spirit is with them.”
“That lucky dog…” laughed Tenz, and they all laughed.
Not too far off, Shrinking Violet, Valor and Catalyst were having a conversation and by the looks of it, a heated one. They were arguing about something, which made it purely Legion business. Blok was nowhere to be found, Hasim was off in the corner doing his own thing, and Jacquie was with all the delegates for the second day in a row. They had at long last slept in real beds, had shows (or baths), and had eaten not one, not two, but three real meals. They even had real clothes on for the first time in ages. Dirk was completely at ease in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with a pair of moccasins on. His red hair had been cut short again and he was letting a five o’clock shadow grow. He was good looking and he knew it. Maziah, on the other hand, had no idea that she was very pretty, and had on a long white sweater, with black leggings underneath. She let her hair flow naturally. Tenz was in a sweatshirt and jeans, but with black shades on. “I’ve got to look cool too, you know” he’d say.
“Where’s Blok been?” asked Dirk of Maziah. Maziah was obviously the closest one to Blok. The others knew partially why, but it was unspoken. Blok had forever been an enemy of Mordru, battling the dark lord through the centuries as Mordru continued to thrive. And it was Blok’s great hope that perhaps Maziah’s arrival upon this planet signaled a change—perhaps it was Maziah that could one day defeat her father.
“Something is bothering him,” she said. “Something about all these people. He told me ‘Mordru’s influence is here’, and that’s it.”
“He’s so cheerful,” said Tenz.
At last, Valor, Shrinking Violet and Catalyst emerged from their conversation. Catalyst looked a little red in the face, and Violet a little uncomfortable, which made the others raise their eyebrows. Hasim, too, noticed this, and moved closer. “What’s the matter?” asked Dirk. With Jacquie with the others, he took the role as unofficial de facto deputy leader among them.
Catalyst looked at Val with his eyebrows raised and then looked back. Finally he spoke. “Well, we’ve been avoiding this for a few days, but really, its been more than a few weeks since we left our Legion pals in New York. And to say “There’s going to be hell to pay” is a bit of an understatement.”
“Oh yeah,” said Violet, suddenly looking like the last thing she wanted to do was go home. “Especially now.”
“I’m not sure I get you,” said Dirk at that last comment.
“To put it in Tolkenesque terms,” said Condo, “this is the breaking of our fellowship. The parting of the Company. Its been really great meeting you all, and though we wish you could join our Legion, its obvious you’re not going to. Its time for us to head home.”
Dirk stood up and put out his hand and took Condo’s. “Its been a pleasure for us,” he said.
“Bummer!” said Tenz. “Especially because you just told us it’s the breaking of our fellowship, which was the coolest thing I’ve ever heard someone say out loud!”
“Thought you’d like that,” smiled Condo.
“I’m not sure I get what made you guys get in an argument,” said Hasim, ever the direct one.
At last Val spoke up. “What you’re doing is important work. If what you say is true, and we believe you that it is, the planet is in serious danger. There’s a connection between your group and the Legion, in that Dreamer is Maziah’s sister. But Spirit and I both agree that its not enough. We should be in constant contact with one another. You’re going to need more help than just the eight of you, no matter what your friend Mon-El thinks. So…” he said, stealing another glance at Catalyst and Shrinking Violet, “…both Spirit and I have agreed to stay behind and join your group. We’re taking a temporary leave of absence from the Legion to join you and add whatever we can to help you in your quest against Mordru.”
The four of them were shocked, and the looks on both Condo and Vi’s faces told them that it would be them who would have to face the wrath of the Legion leaders when they learned about this. Indeed, Condo and Vi knew they would be in for it like no other when Gene learned that two Legionnaires stayed behind in Europe to go on some quest with these people.
“That is,” said Val, “if you’ll have us.” It was the right thing to say, and Dirk quickly realized all the perks of having Spirit and Valor with them. They far-outweighed all the negatives, if there were any at all.
“We don’t need you,” said Hasim, and the animosity he felt towards Val was obvious to anyone who could see that. Condo had warned Val about this minutes prior, and Vi had agreed with them. This boy, Hasim, hated Val. For whatever reasons. Whether he felt threatened because of Jacquie, or because Val might take his role as ‘fighter’ or just plain no reason at all, Hasim hated Val.
“Yes, Hasim, we do,” said Tenz suddenly. If Dirk had said it, it’d be expected, but Hasim was surprised when Ten Zil spoke up now. “We need to learn how to fight. Val can train us how. It would help Dirk and me, and Tatiana and everyone else. And Spirit is really good at what she does. Her power is really sneaky, and we need that.”
“I think we’d be honored if you join us,” said Dirk to Val. Condo was shaking his head but now Vi had a smile.
“I wish I could stay too,” she said.
“Me too,” he smiled at her, and it was obvious the two had a mutual like for each other. “But I understand,” he smiled again, his charm fully on.
“Maziah?” said Val to her.
Before she could answer, another voice spoke. “I think it is an excellent idea.” It was Blok. And that was all the group would ever need. “I’ve told you this war against Mordru would be a tremendous struggle. And I believe your Legion is a sign. This symbol of unity between your Legion and our group is a strong one.” Blok was now upon them, towering over them all, as his proximity to them made them feel his presence strongly. “Mordru is not one person’s enemy, or one group’s enemy or one nation’s enemy. Mordru is the enemy of all that is.”
Val nodded at Blok. “Yes…” he replied, “…and you’ll need as much help as possible. I hope this is settled then.”
“Not by a long shot,” smiled Dirk. “But close enough. It’ll take some convincing for Mon, possibly even Jacquie, but we’ll handle it.”
Maziah at last spoke up. She was very hesitant that others would accept the burden of standing in opposition to her father; and therein, lay one of her struggles: to accept that this was not just her own burden to bear. “Welcome to our group then Val,” she said, more following Blok’s lead than anything else.
----------------------------
Jacquie sat among the great diplomats, in a formal gown, a scarlet red, with that showed off her beauty immensely: spaghetti straps over the shoulders, low cut, that was ankle length. She had spent much of the last two days conversing with the diplomats, moreso Countess Winema Wazzo and Anton Relnic than the others, though they were pleased when she could join them. Here, her political acumen was proven and she could sense a sort of curious pride in Relnic towards her political skills.
She had surmised the following: “The Khund Menace” was not only the topic of the day, but was being decided in these type of backroom conversations. Khundia was a nation in North East Africa, close to Egypt. It was a military dictatorship, and though there was a large Muslim population, the group in power did not include religion in their ideology. They were ultra-aggressive and very keen on showing displays of power, and has essentially been holding the U.N. at bay by claiming it was a subversive foreign power attempting to strip the nation of its own sovereign rights. However, while this dialogue had gone on in recent years (only becoming a heated topic once more in the most recent weeks), Khundia continued to stock-pile weapons and further attempts to enrich uranium. The leader of Khundia, Zaryan, was known as ‘the Conqueror’ for the Khundish defeat of its neighboring countries a half a decade ago.
Yet, while this was extremely interesting, and provided the backgrounds of Jacquie’s first political education, she felt it had little to do with her. Or did it? Mon had warned her about Relnic’s comment to George Whittington, and she had been begun to see the divisions among the politicians and how it connected to the Legion. Winema Wazzo was strictly anti-war and against the invasion of Khundia by any means, believing the so-called ‘intelligence’ about weapons of mass destruction to be false. But she was also strikingly anti-Legion. Not only was she totally against the Legion as a concept because of her own daughter’s membership, she apparently was appalled at the idea of super-powered teenagers having any type of organized basis.
Her closest political ally, Gil’ Deshi, was also anti-Legion. Jacquie surmised that Deshi feared the Legion one day becoming a global police force…or worse, the start of factions of global super-powered armies batting one another. A wise fear to have, but his solution seemed to be quite the opposite: to lock away all these super-powered teenagers until a means to de-power them could be found. But Deshi was fearful of Khundia and had bought into the hysteria. Though he approached the situation from an honest and what he saw as reasonable standpoint, he believed Khundia has continued to go to far.
Maya, the diplomat from Sri Lanka, was the most charismatic of the group Jacquie thought, and perhaps that was because she was very pro-Legion. She liked the idea of the Legion, and she seemed to truly believe in the spirit of what the group stood for. Above all else, she was adamant that the U.N. maintain control of the group, but with a very hands-off approach. She wanted the Legion to act independently without outside control. She also believed Khundia was a threat that had to be faced immediately. She seemed to think that the hysteria created by “The Khund Menace” had some real legitimacy.
George Whittington, the American, was the most pro-Legion of the entire group. He apparently was a major supporter in the U.N. and could give you dozens of reasons why the group should exist, from ideological to practical to scientific to religious implications. But he was also the most adamant that Khundia should be invaded, and here Jacquie understood why these two subjects were not mutually exclusive. George Whittington firmly believed the Legionnaires should be the ones to march into Khundia and “take care of business”. He saw them as an army; a super-powered teenage army with advantages completely in their favor. And she wasn’t sure if he saw the Legion as a U.N. entity, or an American one.
Last was Relnic, whom she could see was truly the master many proclaimed him to be. He had yet to commit himself to any argument, and merely was taking it all in. She couldn’t read him and was sure no one could. In fact, she thought perhaps the reason this gathering was taking place, or at least the reason so many diplomats were here, was to convince Relnic to take their side. Jacquie had already slipped up to Relnic. In private, when they were discussing wines, he had somehow gotten her to admit that almost none of them were actual Legionnaires. Further, he was able to pull from her that they had crossed paths with a few other super-powered persons the United Nations was completely unaware of. He had a directness to him, abrupt even, but while he came across that way, he was actually subtly extracting information out of you. She couldn’t help but admire him on one hand but wish to avoid him completely on the other.
She couldn’t wait to be done with this. Spirit, indeed all of them, owed her.
----------------------
“Now I wish I was staying too,” said Violet, as she hugged Dirk close and whispered in his ear.
“Until next time,” he whispered back softly and kissed her cheek. There was no doubt about it: she now had a little crush on him.
“Cut it out you two,” said Condo with a laugh. They were all gathered here now, and Condo and Violet were saying their good byes and heading home. Blok and Mon-El stood some distance away, while the others bid farewell.
“Thanks for going along with this,” said Tina to Condo. “Just remember, no matter how much Gene yells, imagine what it’ll be like when he sees me next.”
“Let’s just hope its sooner than later,” said Violet.
“Be careful Val,” said Condo to Valor, the implications completely toward Hasim.
“Always,” replied Val.
“Give my best to Lyle,” said Tina and Condo quickly blushed at Tina’s acute sense of the Legion social scene.
“So Tenz,” asked Condo, changing the subject. “Pick a codename for yourself yet?”
“Yup,” he said with a smile. “Matter-Eater Lad.”
“Best codename ever,” said Condo with a smile and he hugged him goodbye.
Dirk whispered to him. “Matter-Eater Lad? Really? You’ve got to be kidding me…”
“Give my sister my best,” said Maziah and she too hugged Condo and Violet. “Let her know I’m well…and I’ll see her soon.” Maziah was hit by a wave of sadness. She missed Nura a terrible amount. She suddenly longed to go with them; to finally meet Imra; to be far away from her father. But no, she could not.
And so Catalyst and Shrinking Violet departed back to New York City aboard the non-ceremonial coach class of Lufthansa Airlines.
[ February 12, 2008, 11:02 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
“Man, I don’t know about this,” said the man in the passenger side of the truck.
“Don’t be an idiot,” said the other. “The Dark Lord asked us to escort this phantom lord to Europe, and its worth it do as he asks. We’ll let him wreak his havoc and any of these pups we can bring in ourselves will just be icing on the cake. Be sure to stay out of his way.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that O’Ryan,” said the first man, as he unlatched the truck and opened up the back. There in front of him was the emaciated figure of Jason Blood, who looked at him with a grim look of pure hate.
“Fools…” said Blood. “…you have no idea what you’re doing. He’ll have no need of you. Mordru has power over him, but you don’t. You won’t survive this.”
“Whatever,” said the man, as he suddenly whispered the mantra: “Gone, gone form of man, behold the demon Etrigan!”. The effect was immediate, though this man Jones had no idea that his ‘friend’ O’Ryan the Hunter had run off the minute the truck was parked, and ran at top speed for his life. He knew what was about to happen. Jones was unlucky, as he did not.
The change in Jason Blood was sickening and disgusting to behold. His human flesh burned away and the smell of cooked meat and charred bone filled the air. The man Jones was horrified, and too disgusted to move.
“Stupid little men, Mordru sees wasted; Your flesh my friend, will be the sweetest in an age I’ve tasted”
And so the Demon Etrigan re-entered the Earthly plane, and feasted on the flesh of Mordru’s henchman, before he could begin his reign of terror.
-------------------------
The group all sat in the gardens of the Wazzo Estate, tucked away in a remote corner all the while in the very middle of Vienna. With Valor and Spirit among them, they were even larger now, and Dirk couldn’t help but recall how they all started out in such strange circumstances. Jacquie had rejoined them now and they all together except for Maziah.
“She’s talking to Marla Latham,” said Tatiana. “He arrived in the city yesterday, and she wanted to speak to him about sending a private message to her sister. She’s hoping he can help arrange that.” It had been two days since Condo and Violet departed and Maziah had begun to wish she had asked them to deliver a private letter to Nura; something more than the words she had spoken. Tatiana sipped a cup of the tea they had managed to hold on to from Sakkim. Most of their possessions had been destroyed in Siberia, but Jacquie and Mon had held on to some of them. Chief among them was the tea from Sakkim, Mon’s blue cloak, and “Tenz’s lucky shoelace” which had been with Ten Zil since Korea and which he now believed has some sort of luck to it.
Spirit’s file taken from the Dark Circle was now considered part of this group of personnel items. They hadn’t had an opportunity to discuss it yet, though she was hoping they would soon.
Mon sat next Tatiana silently, as they all relaxed and enjoyed each other’s company. Tina sat on another bench with Jacquie and Hasim. Standing in front of them was Val, who was teaching Tenz and Dirk some fighting moves.
Blok appeared out of the Earth next to them.
“Does that ever get normal?” said Tina.
“No,” said Hasim.
“You look uneasy Blok,” said Jacquie.
“Yes,” he replied, and then became silent. This unnerved them all, so that Mon sat up more and looked in his direction. He spoke more. “This United Nations…this European Union…these things have the hand of Mordru in them.”
“Blok, surely you can’t believe that,” said Jacquie. She was actually a bit stunned. “These entities have gone a long way to establishing a new era in the world.”
“There is unity in them, but where you see unity for the common good, I see unity so that when Mordru assumes his throne, it will be all the easier. No, I am sure of it. There is something rotten here. Mordru’s influence is everywhere…”
“We should be protected here,” said Tina, trying to voice some optimism. It seemed like a fair point.
“I do not believe that is the case,” said Blok once more. Tina wasn’t sure if she should be offended, which made Hasim snicker.
Mon-El seemed to sense the words stung her. “Blok is usually right about these things, Tina,” he added.
----------------------------
Marla Latham sat with Maziah and they drank a strong cup of coffee. “I’m more a coffee man myself,” said Marla with a smile.
“Mr. Latham, have you met the Legionnaires yet?” asked Maziah.
“I have not had the opportunity,” he said, “but I have been traveling for some time now. We do have a mutual acquaintance or two, however, so I think perhaps I can help you out.”
As they spoke, they soaked up the scenery of the coffee bar in the lobby of the hotel Marla was staying at. It was largely empty at this time of day, though a fair amount of staff were working all around them. More than usual it seemed to Maziah. Perhaps they were planning for a big event. She felt more at ease than ever…almost tired. “Is there something important happening at the hotel, Mr. Latham?”
“Indeed,” he said. “A once in a lifetime opportunity is about to occur.”
“What’s that?” she said curiously, although over a loud yawn. She was so tired…all the worrying seemed to be doing a number on her.
“The daughter of the Dark Lord Mordru is about to come into their possession of course,” he said and the words at first did not register. “Its not everyday that Maziah bint Mordru bin Ahmad Al-Nayal walks blindly into a trap without any of her protectors, after all,” he added, and panic suddenly hit Maziah like a bucket of water. Yet, she felt unable to move…incredibly sluggish and tired. “…and the White Witch has been something the Dark Circle has long been after.”
Suddenly Maziah fell over, as if to hit the floor face first. Reacting with amazing speed for his age, Marla was up on his feet in seconds and caught her before she landed. She was out like a light. The coffee had been severely drugged and Maziah was sound asleep. Her magic would be of little help to her now.
The hotel staff swarmed around them, instantly pulling out their Dark Circle symbol and wrapping it as a band around their arms. They picked her up and moved her quickly, aware that either Blok or the others might come at any moment.
One saluted Marla Latham. Marla replied softly: “Long live the Dark Circle…”
[ February 12, 2008, 10:58 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Cos' watch bleeped. Wondering what the hell they were in the news for now, he sighed and turned on the TV... to catch the end of pictures of Spirit, one of the four AWOL Legionnaires, in the arms of a flier he didn't recognise. The ticker on the screen told him not only that the building they were gliding down to was her ancestral home, but that it was currently holding a major international conference.
A rare expletive escaped his lips, before he looked down, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his right hand as his left supported his forehead, while he wondered what the hell Tina had just got them into. Disappearing for over a month without word was bad. Them finding out where she was from the TV was worse. Them finding out from the TV that an AWOL Legionnaire had dropped right in the middle of a major diplomatic event... it didn't bear thinking about.
He hoped to Cheese Gene wasn't watching a news channel. He needed time to think.
As so often happens when luck turns sour, however, it stayed sour. Not only did Gene storm in a moment later, but Irma was obviously watching the news as well and telepathed a «Did you see Tina on the news?!» to him at the worst possible moment, completely obliterating whatever Gene said.
«Hang on...» he thought at her, deciding to brush Gene off for a moment and deal with her first - he couldn't get any angrier. "Look Gene, I've got you screaming at my head and Irma screaming in my head. Give me a moment." And he closed his eyes before Gene could reply.
«I wasn't screaming.» He almost saw her pout.
«Sorry. I needed him to shut up until I knew what to say, and you gave me the excuse. Yes, I saw it. This is going to be fun. Have you got any ideas? Who's with you?»
«Just Garth. And no ideas, I just wanted to let you know. I thought you'd be happy knowing she's okay.»
«I am, mostly. I'm just expecting a few tons of brick to land on us because of this and the first one's in the room with me just now.»
«Do you want him to get a headache?»
«Looks like he already has one. If you want to do me a favour, get Lyle and your pal Dreamer in here once he's gone. I want a word. Preferably before Gene gets hold of them...»
«Alright...» He felt her unhappiness at the last bit for a split second before the link dropped. He opened his eyes.
"You saw the news then?" he sighed at Leviathan, who was now eight feet tall, completely red of face and slowly growing further.
"I saw it on Fox," Gene answered through gritted teeth. Cos filed his remark about not seeing the news then under 'not now'. "What did you say when Norga arranged this little party? 'They'd go crazy if they found out four members of this team sneaked off'? HOW DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO TAKE IT WHEN THEY TURN UP ON INTERNATIONAL TELEVISION?!!!!!!"
Cos wiped the spit off his face and sat back in his chair. Generally, there wasn't any point in interrupting Gene when he was in full 'Drill Lt.' mode.
"Don't think I haven't noticed all the favors you've done for your little friends Kline. Especially working to keep little Norga and Little Blonde Arabic Hood on the team, and especially all the favors you've done for your little girlfriend. Your little raid on the Workforce you got lucky on." When he got angry, Cos reflected, Gene's adjectival range deceased markedly. "Do you have ANY concept of discipline? It's MY ass that gets reamed every time YOU cover for your little pals!"
"Gene..."
"No, no 'Geennee...'. I've had it. I'll have Norga's ass - NOW! He spends so much time on his little side projects he can't even manage one simple little mission. What's he go-"
"Shut. Up." Cos' voice wasn't loud, but had just the right edge to it to stop a raging Leviathan in his tracks. "Start from the end - the Cathingham thing. Lyle said he was given next to no information on their target, and he had an under-resourced team, with two low-powered members including himself, a rookie who might one day be a heavyweight, and a rookie who isn't even a rated combatant against what turned out to be a super-strong, semi-invulnerable opponent."
"That's not the point - failure is not an op-"
"Failure is ALWAYS an option. Not a good option, not an option you aim for but in reality - especially when you go in blind - it is an option. Was my summary accurate or not?"
"I gave him his orders and his team."
"So it was accurate?"
Gene paused before straining out a "Yes."
"Good. On top of that, Lyle says - and from looking over what he was given, and what he found himself, I'm inclined to agree - that capturing a vigilante with no record of causing fatalities or serious injuries does not constitute 'preventing, containing or resolving a serious and immediate threat to life'."
"So you're condoning vigilantism now?" Gene folded his arms.
"I'll answer the question for you then - no. Someone breaking the law isn't enough to activate us. Our mandate was deliberately drawn narrowly as part of the horse-trading that got us a mandate. Someone breaking the law somewhere isn't enough. Would you follow an order to hunt someone down to be killed in punishment for stealing a loaf of bread?"
"I am an officer in the United States Marine Corps."
"No. No, you're not. Not now." Gene visibly bristled at this, but Cos continued, "You're Leviathan, a member of the United Nations' Legion of Super-Heroes. The formal field leader. Any member state in good standing has equal right to call upon us - within the terms of our mandate, of course. We're based on US soil out of a quirk of fate, and if SHIELD ever get their "Helicarrier", we'll probably get moved onto that. Our mandate's the way it is partly because no two member states - hell, no two parts of a lot of member states - have exactly the same laws and punishments; and because no-one wants us invading them at the behest of the US or another country. And if the US can draw upon us any time a law gets broken, any member state gets to draw on us every time any of THEIR laws get broken except when it conflicts with other UN resolutions. Do you want to be following the scenario I outlined any time soon?"
"no..."
"Well then. Maybe you should watch how your own decisions affect your 'ass' before you start with other people's. As for Spirit, I'll get back to you later."
Gene, chastened, walked out, presumably back to his own office. Cos flopped back in his chair, overcome with momentary relief that Gene had left an opening to slap him down about something else, rather than keeping to the point at hand. Deciding a moment was enough, he picked up his phone and dialled an extension.
"Irma, did you get them... thanks. Send them up now."
A few minutes later, Invisible Kid and Dreamer walked through the door and shut it behind them.
"I take it you know?" Cos started. He didn't need to say what. They nodded.
"Well, it leaves us with a problem." Nura opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off - "Nura, I don't care if you know every single word I'm about to say. I want you to stand here and hear me say them." He paused.
"Honestly, I don't know what to say, beyond trying to stress how much damage this is going to do to us as a team. So I'll stick with fact. I just had to sit here and convince Gene to not kick you off the team. Again.
I know you're worried about your sister Nura. And I know you both helped with the Workforce thing, which wasn't strictly legal either. And I've defended you both over this before for good reason - besides anything else, you're both valuable members of the team with a lot to contribute. So I want to ask you two questions and I want straight, honest, short answers:
One - did you have any plan, or intention, that Tina would do this? Two - did you intend, or know, that they would be absent without leave for over a month and counting?
Lyle?"
Lyle thought for a moment and decided to give Cos the straight truth he'd asked for. "No I didn't, and I thought it was possible but not certain."
"Nura?"
"I knew there would be a commotion today, but not what would cause it. I did not, and do not, know when they will return."
"You said 'when' they return. Does that mean you know they will be back safe and sound?"
"No."
"That will be all."
"Cos-" Lyle began.
"All, Lyle."
When they shuffled out a few moments later, Cos slumped back in his seat and sighed loudly. He loved Tina like a sister, and he'd been glad to see her alive and well, but he couldn't save her place on the team, or any of the other AWOL group, if the decision came down to cut them over this, after all their time away and her Very Public Appearance. If it came to that, he'd be as likely to be fighting for the team itself.
The way he felt at that moment, he wasn't even sure he wanted to save them.
In spite of that, though, he thought, he still missed Tina - letting his mind wander back to those early days, too short-lived, when there was just a few of them and there was no Gene or UN to fight with or about. More, he missed Trinity. Not having Lu around was... he'd written her a letter, and she'd written back. But it wasn't the same thing. He knew she needed space after what happened, and he'd taken his Christmas break early to be there when she got back, but... he missed her. He smiled at the circularity of his thoughts and tried to focus on the immediate crisis.
What he didn't know about was the taxi drawing up outside of the building at that moment...
posted
“So, Jacquie, we know you have ‘oh so much important matters to discuss’,” said Tenz sarcastically, “but you really need to pick your codename.” He, the Princess and Spirit turned the corner, as they walked through the halls of Castle Wazzo.
Jacquie smiled despite herself. “Tennnnz…” she said, stressing her annoyance. But she didn’t mind, it was good to have them there. She was tired of having to play diplomat for their group. “I’m not sure why Princess Projectra isn’t good enough…”
“Of course you’re not,” replied Tenz, “that’s why we love you. It’ll be up to me to give you one then.”
“What about ‘Sensor’?” said Spirit. Although they hadn’t really had much of a chance to get to know each other, Tina and Jacquie seemed to get along very well. They were both very similar of course: confident in themselves and willing to speak their mind. It didn’t escape Tenz that they were both Princesses of course. Still, they were remarkably different in that Jacquie was epitome of composure and somewhat aloof while Tina was a ‘social butterfly’.
“Sensor?” she replied. “I guess it works for me…if you really think we need codenames…” Spirit and Valor, considering they both already had codenames, were supporters of Tenz’s idea to give everyone one. “What I really need to do is meet whoever passed along this note to me,” she followed up. About ten minutes earlier, she received a note from one of the servants saying one of the delegates wishes to have a private meeting with her. She was inclined to think it was Relnic. Something about the recent day of interaction made her think Relnic had reached his own decisions on both the Legion and Khundia and he seemed to enjoy talking with Jacquie about these heavy political decisions. Dirk said he thought Relnic had a crush on her, which annoyed Hasim and made Val dismiss it outright (“Please!”, she said, “I’m a third his age!”). Tatiana thought maybe he saw her as a sort of political apprentice.
“The hand-writing was female though,” said Tenz. “I have an eye for that sort of thing,” he said, pulling his shades down to his nose and winking at Spirit. It was his attempt to be cool while maintaining his ‘class-clown’ façade. It worked somewhat.
“Oh, I wish you still had the note. I’d be able to recognize Mother’s handwriting pretty easy. I’ve faked it enough times…”
They turned the corner now and entered a large study. There were leather coaches and various shelves full of old books surrounding them, with a little ‘smoking area’ in on the far left side of the room. No one seemed to be in the room. “Hm. I guess we wait then,” said Jacquie. Suddenly she felt an odd sensation, as if her illusion power was working with her directing it. This feeling had happened before on multiple occasions, and usually it meant something wrong was happening. She often wondered what it was…perhaps her ability to create illusions allowed her to see through illusions as well—illusions in all its forms, including lies. “Tina,” she asked, “you don’t think your mother would ever turn against you, do you?”
Spirit turned around ready to offer a quick reply, but hesitated. Of course not, she was prepared to say. But…would she? She sat down suddenly, thinking about it.
“The room feels really hot…” said Tenz, “…and I’m itchy. I don’t feel good…”
“Something is wrong,” said Jacquie. “Something is wrong with this room…”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before,” said Tina suddenly, looking around. “I…I can’t seem to phase or use my power…” she said almost panicky, but sluggishly so.
”’Tis I who insist you do not phase, Though you are not yet ready to place me in your gaze, Many are you in strength and number, Fall now you three, to a wretched slumber
As Spirit and Tenz began to drift to sleep, though terrified and suddenly very sweaty, Jacquie looked up and her mastery of illusion allowed her to pierce the glamour put forth by the Demon Etrigan, who stood now a mere feet in front of her. His visage terrified her, as his oily and scary orange skin seemed to ooze forth and his demonic, ugly face was centered by to dark red eyes that seemed to swim with blood, and a crooked, horrible nose. He grinned at her, showing razorsharp teeth, as she soon fell asleep into a world of nightmare.
---------------------------------
Tatiana and Mon-El walked along the top floors, taking a minute to go out to the various balconies all along the perimeter, giving them an incredible view of Vienna. “Restless again?” asked Tatiana. She wore a black silk button down shirt with a black skirt and heels. The black complimented her new blue skin very nicely.
Mon was dressed in a red t-shirt and blue jeans, with strong leather boots (home made there in a local shop in Vienna). Around him, he still kept his blue military cloak. He seemed to keep it around him constantly, as if the remnant of his ancient days 2,000 years ago provided him some comfort. “Yes,” he said, unable to hold back a smile. “It often feels like things move incredibly fast and then incredibly slow. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do next. I presume Blok is right and I was wrong, that eventually we will have to meet this Legion of Super-Heroes and join with them against the Dark Lord. I’m ready to bring the fight to him now, I suppose…”
“Of course you are,” she said, putting a hand on his face, which made him look at her directly. “But there’s still so much we don’t know about him. I can’t help but think Blok has a larger plan of action…” Between the two of them, there was suddenly a strong heat. A passionate heat. Tatiana had never felt this way about a boy before, and she felt it throughout her entire body. She wanted him more than anything.
And he wanted her equally as much. 2,000 out of time, and he still held his sanity together; it was because of his mission to destroy Mordru kept him focused; but more, it was because of her. He leaned in to kiss her again, and she replied in kind, furiously kissing him back.
They pulled apart and she giggled a little as he smiled.
And then a shot rang out from 200 meters away, as O’Ryan the Hunter fired his lead-cased bullets, (2) of them, through Mon’s old blue cloak, and into his side, piercing into his gut.
Mon fells in pain, suddenly, the lead strong enough to pierce his super-strong skin, as Tatiana screamed. She held him, as he hunched over in pain, and both concern and fury flooded her emotions. She rose, looking in the distance for him, ready for her shadows to attack. “Stay down Mon,” she said.
But the Hunter approached faster now, and had her in his sights.
------------------------------------
The gardens they all sat in a day earlier were calm and serene as a late afternoon breeze blew through, crisp though brief. Blok reappeared out of the Earth to take in his the scenery, thinking to himself what the next step should be. It had been some time since his last duel with the Dark Lord and he must be careful with each step he took. Above all, he must ensure the children, Maziah especially, made every step on their own. He could not force them to act—that was his mistake millennia ago and the outcome caused him great suffering.
Blok overlooked the garden in thought and immediately sensed the presence as another entered the garden, above and behind him in a tree.
“And now the great prince demon of hell is reduced to lowly servant on this plane,” said Blok aloud in his deep, rocky voice.
“ Etrigan is no man’s slave, Mordru will pay for being the slaver; But to assail one such as you is a task I truly must savor”
Blok turned immediately, as the Demon unleashed hellfire from his mouth, scorching Blok’s crusty shell. Blok swung hard, and his strength was that of the mountains themselves, but Etrigan was not of this Earthly plane, and withstood it, offering a blow equally as hard. Both pounded on one another, as Etrigan continued to let loose hellfire.
“Each blow you strike hits like a hammer, But while you look left, on your right is my glamour” spoke the Demon, as his magic continued so suck out all traces of water or hydration in Blok’s form, so that his shell became brittle and sandy. Blok’s form continued to weaken, as the Demon pulled open a bag of magic dust and sprinkled it on him.
You are Mordru’s most hated, and he has prepared for your arrival, I would not put any wagers in favor of your survival he added, as Mordru’s magics worked to incapacitate the giant creature far quicker than he could have imagined.
Unable to speak, Blok only thought to himself “how could I have been taken so easy? Have I come so far after so much time, only to fall so easy now?”
--------------------------------------
“She won’t have anything to do with you, you know,” said Hasim to Val, as he caught Val by surprise in his quarters. Val noted to himself that Hasim, nor anyone, should be able to do that.
“Excuse me?” said Val, though he knew full well what was spoken.
“Princess Jacqueline. She will not be yours.”
“I fail to see how that could be any of your business. Or how you intend to stop her from choosing herself,” Val added. There was no one around this time, and Val had put up with quite enough of Hasim’s back-handed comments.
“In the Gulag, with Nardo and the Dark Circle. I was going easy you know. I had no intentions of really fighting you, only of getting free.”
Val was still unsure if this was the truth. “I’m glad to hear it. Because I certainly don’t see why you and I should be enemies.”
Hasim smiled at him, and the smile was wicked and genuine. “Then you’re just not looking,” he said, but before he replied, Dirk suddenly entered the room.
“Hey guys, have you seen anyone else? I can’t find Jacquie or Tina, or anyone really. Where did they all go?”
And suddenly the room began to darken, more and more, so that Dirk was forced to create a small fire in his hands to let some light in. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, and it should not be that dark. “Something is very wrong,” said Val.
A low, grumbling laughter could suddenly be heard, as Etrigan the Demon entered the room through no door known to man. It grew louder and louder. Dirk turned to and frow, using the light to search for him. Etrigan, with a flick of his wrist, suddenly took hold of Dirk’s fire.
“You are no knight, but merely a squire, Children should know better than play with FIRE!”
Etrigan screamed the last words, and his shriek caused them a tremendous amount of pain, as his hold over Dirk’s power caused the fire to blow up in his own face, knocking him backwards. Etrigan was suddenly on top of Val and Hasim, using his immense Demon strength to bring them down. For the Demon was a prince of hell, summoned long ago to this plane and now under an oath to serve Mordru despite his hate for the Dark Lord. His magic was unrivaled by many of the world’s greatest wizards throughout many an age, and only Blok stood any real chance of defeating him in single combat, but Mordru’s magic saw to that. All three of the young men fell before Etrigan and now all of the Company had been taken.
------------------------------------
O’Ryan the Hunter loaded the children into the truck, all of them held unconscious by the magic of Mordru, as Jason Blood, drained and unconscious slept in the passenger side of the truck. He was bound and shackled, so a potential escape would not happen. It would not be long before the missing children were discovered missing, but their ally among the diplomats would help ease that transition. There were supposed to be eight in the company and they ended up with nine, so something must have gone right. O’Ryan was not given much information about them individually other than Mon-El, which Mordru provided specific ammunition for. Surely he had accomplished everything he needed to? Surely Mordru would be pleased?
The truck left Austria and soon would be leaving Europe all together. Protected by the magic of the Dark Lord, it would proceed unmolested through Turkey and the Middle East until at last arriving at Yemen, where Mordru himself awaited his new prisoners.
-------------------------------------
As the nine companions slept quietly in the truck, Maziah also slept quietly, not knowing what fate had befallen her friends, and not knowing that O’Ryan had failed in his foremost task of securing the daughter of Mordru (although the Hunter did not know it yet).
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Hasim awoke suddenly, recalling immediately the last thing he remembered: the Demon Etrigan leaping at himself and Val. He had a large scratch going across his face, from the clawmarks of the Demon, and it burned when he touched it. Infected? Who knew? Scratched by a demon…it was almost too ridiculous to imagine. And here he was again, imprisoned, just as before…
He looked around. He was in a cell…no…a cage? He was in a cage, and there was light at least. He looked around, and some of the others were with him. Valor. Morgna. Kem. Spirit. Good. The last two could easily get out of this cell with their powers. He had lucked out after all. He looked around. The cage (definitely not a cell) was shaped like a birdcage and there wasn’t enough room to stand up. He crawled over to Kem, and slapped his shoulder. “Get up”. Kem began to moan softly. “Get up”. He turned to Spirit. She was extremely beautiful with raven colored hair and pretty clear skin. Very attractive…but he had his eye on one other (where was she? Later…). “Spirit,” he said, a little more gently, “…Spirit, wake up…” He looked out the cage and realized they were suspended up high. In fact, a large rusted chain stretched out above them going high into the ceing.
They were in a giant cavern, not so much a building but almost a cave. And the five of them were suspended in a giant cage, as if they were pet birds. This insult would not be forgotten, Hasim thought, but enough of that juvenile thinking, he needed to focus. They were up high still, so he had to go to the edge of the cage to look down and see below. He did so, and what he saw surprised him. A large army. No, not quite an army, a large gathering of…guards? Soldiers at any rate, with blue and black uniforms, with large guns. They were in formation as if waiting for something. Two sets of formations, parted down the middle, and this parting led to…ah. A throne. A large, golden throne lay ahead of them of, and Hasim immediately knew whose it was. Near the throne, also shackled, he saw two figures: one, a scrawny, emaciated man with brown hair with streaks of white that he could see from even up there. And next to him, it was her. Jacquie. She looked a little worse for wear, but she looked relatively unharmed (so far—no, keep it out of your mind). He was thankful for that, because his rage would be unstoppable if she was not. She looked hurt and exhausted but pretty much unharmed. Her beautiful platinum hair was loosened down her back and shoulders, with her bangs over her forehead. She was staring dead ahead, as if dreading what would be entering the room. Hasim also figured what (you mean who) that would be, but was not ready to move his analysis there yet.
Something moving near the throne. A black cat. Nice touch. Clichéd, but nice. The walls were draped with various standards, many of them ancient apparently as he had no idea what they said and they didn’t look like any lettering he’d ever seen or heard of. Also some armor on the walls, and some swords and spears. Good—if he needed to break free, he’d remind the soldiers below why you do not leave weapons around your captors, even for show. Scanning the rest of the room, he saw no sign of Blok, Tatiana, Monius Elysius, or Maziah. Was Maziah with them when they were caught? Too hard to tell…none of them were actually together.
“Those are Khundian soldiers,” said a voice, and it was Valor. Hasim ignored it. “I recognize them from the news. Mordru has ties to Khundia…?” Val was speaking out loud. “Then perhaps it is a menace…”
At last Hasim turned to him. What was it about Valor that he disliked so much? Everything. “Having you brave Legionnaires with us didn’t seem to do much good, eh?” he said. He half wanted to snicker at himself, but the other half regretted it the minute he said it. Hard to be respected and needed when he acted like a juvenile. “Morgna?”
“He’s okay. Apparently he’s relatively immune to fire because of his powers. The Demon’s blast didn’t seem to do much damage to him.”
Hasim almost added ‘pity’ (he wasn’t fond of Morgna either), but decided it wasn’t worth it. “I can’t see the others.”
Though the room was dead quiet, suddenly the silence became deafening. The air felt as if it was sucked out of the room. Down below, Hasim and Val could see Jacquie look ahead with widened eyes as if she felt nothing but pure dread. The man next to her (Jason Blood, though that was unknown to them) only turned away and a single tear ran down his cheek. Mordru entered his entertainment room.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
As Mordru walked closer to his throne, Jacquie tried her hardest to stare at him, but at last was forced to turn away, despite herself. Out of fear or magic, she could not say why.
Mordru walked closer and sat on his throne. The Khundian brigade saluted him. He made no reply.
“Asmodeus,” he said at last, and the black cat turned to him. “The Hunter, O’Ryan. Have him brought before me.” The black cat ran off suddenly. Next to Jeckie, Jason Blood simply looked down at his shackles. “We have guests today!” Mordru said out loud and his voice was booming—painful almost, to the normal ear. “Welcome to Zerox, the Secret City.” No one made a reply. Up above, all five heroes were wide awake now. “Children,” he said, turning towards Jacquie so his gaze was upon her. He was extremely tall, and well-built, dressed in an open flowing white vest and robes, with a long flowing white beard. On his head was a crown made of Silver with a leaflet in the middle. To Jacquie, he looked 30 feet tall. “You have been mislead,” he said again. “You have been convinced that it was wise to stand in opposition to me, which truly cannot be your fault. After all, you are only children. But by learning about this whole other world you never knew about before, you have thus entered it and become an active participant. And to enter this world in opposition to Mordru, is to ensure a short and painful existence.”
“Jacqueline Proiectra,” Mordru continued, “I know your family quite well. We are old friends and it pleases me to see their line did not die out quietly. Some of your ancestors once stood before, proud, as you do now.” Jacquie at last could match his gaze and look into his eyes, and in them she saw something she had never truly believed existed in the world before. Evil. Pure, utter, madness with the conviction that his way and his words were truly right. Mordru’s eyes revealed his true intentions, that whatever exists in this world should be susceptible to his every whim, and should be a part of an order of his ruling. He stared at her, and though he smiled kindly, she could feel his wrath in this eyes. Still, she stood in her shackles, straitening out, though it exhausted her to do so. “Tell me Princess…where are my daughters?”
She was silent for a few moments that lasted an eternity. “I do not know,” she replied and she hoped he could not pierce her words and discover if she lied. In fact, he normally could do these things, but Jacquie’s power was that of illusions, and it had been used against Mordru for centuries, as it was being used here—successfully.
“Your family has brought me suffering over the centuries and you do so now. You seek to turn my beloved daughter against me; you seek to come between the bonds of family and destroy a sacred link. Your family once robbed me of my beloved Emerald Empresses. Now you seek to continue your family tradition in robbing me of my most beloved.”
Jacquie was trembling. He appeared to grow taller as he questioned her, and she wondered how the soldiers before them all could possibly be able to remain standing for so long. Above her, her five companions were unable to utter a word. “N-No,” she said at last. “You speak falsely. I have no power over Maziah…her will is her own.”
”YOU LIE!” he yelled! “Daughter of traitors and whores, you dare lie to the dark lord!” Suddenly, he raised his right hand up to his own chin, and prepared to swat her with his backhand, which surely would have been the end of her, when suddenly, two others entered the cavern.
It was the mercenary, O’Ryan the Hunter, and the black cat, Asmodeus. O’Ryan strutted in with a smirk, looking up at the cage above him with a smile, then at Jacquie, his eyes lingering on her trembling body. In his mind, he was preparing for rewards beyond measure.
Mordru beheld him with the fury still in his eyes, until at last he appeared to return to his normal, smiling state, suddenly appearing to be normal size once more. “You have done well,” he said soothingly to the Hunter. “Very well indeed. How many did I ask you to bring me?”
“Eight,” said O’Ryan with a oozing pride at himself. “You said eight, but I figured, what the hell right, why not nine?” he added smiling a big grin. His red hair was pulled back in a pony-tail and he had a large eye-patch on one of his eyes. His appearance would be comical if the young heroes didn’t hate him so much at that instant.
“You did indeed bring me nine,” said Mordru, as if he was correcting the Hunter. “You, of course, brought me two that I did not require. You should have realized they had only recently joined this group.”
“Yeah?” said O’Ryan, still not quite getting what Mordru was driving at. “Legionnaires too, I think.”
“So you did know,” said Mordru suddenly, and his smile was gone. “You knew they were Legionnaires and only recently joined the group.” O’Ryan motioned to speak again, but Mordru’s eyes pierced him so hard he did not. “Therefore, you brought me seven of the eight I required, plus two I have no use for.” Now, Mordru walked forward to O’Ryan, directly in front of him. “Seven of the eight, thereby leaving one behind; one who is precious to me; one who is my own daughter, my most beloved, and who I truly wanted above all others. You failed the Dark Lord Mordru, and for that, there is no forgiveness.”
And at a speed none could truly catch, Mordru plucked out O’Ryan’s other eye. The man fell to the ground screaming in pain, cursing and gurgling and choking on his own words, realizing his life would now be nothing but darkness.
“Hasim Diyarbikar,” he said out loud. “You will come down here and execute this man in my service, and for that you will be greatly rewarded.” At once, the entire cavern looked up at the cage and all eyes were on Hasim. He said nothing. “Princess Jacqueline Proiectra owes me a great debt. Her ancestors assaulted my will on many occasions and I, of the ancient tradition, hold her responsible for the actions of her forefathers. The House of Proiectra is responsible for the destruction of my beloved concubines and the loss of the Emerald Eye of Ekron. Should I hold her accountable for these crimes, she will undergo the most torturous death imaginable. That is, unless I choose to have her join Lord Jason Blood here permanently as my newest servant and agent. This will all be avoided unless you do my bidding and come down here and execute this worthless excuse for a man.”
“Hasim,” said Spirit, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t, it’s a trick, and—“ but he waved her off. Val watched him, but Dirk and Tenz knew in their hearts what his response would be.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
Monius Elysius awoke to feel hands all over his body, and prepared to jerk up at top speed and with full strength, only to find he was unable to move. Soon, he realized the hands were not assaulting him, but were working on his side, where his wounds were. They were doctors and nurses, fixing him up. Had he been rescued? He turned to see, and no, he had not been.
The servants of Mordru worked to bring Mon-El back to full health, while magic bonds held him down. Mon looked forward to see he was in some prison cell removed from everything else. Using his super-hearing, he concentrated on voices that he might hear, and suddenly heard the screaming and roaring of soldiers, as well as some crushing blows.
“Monius, after all these years…” he heard.
Immediately he looked up. That voice…? He recognized it. Could it be…? He turned to his left and for a minute he believed he was hallucinating.
“How could it be that two old friends, from an era 2,000 years in the past, could both somehow be able to meet once more?” The soldier was grinning. He was a young man also, though now looked to be about two or three years older than Monius. He was built the same—strong and well cut, a pure warrior’s build. Short hair, in the Roman style, and dressed in the traditional Roman armor, though now a deep purple.
“Dev,” he said, quietly. “Devious Emorius,” he said now. It was amazing. “But how…?”
“I am no mere hallucination, old friend,” said Dev-Em, which was what Mordru called him. “I too still exist in the present day, having lived through all of these hundreds of years.”
It was too much for Mon to take in. “But…Rome? What happened? How?” He stopped asking questions trying to get his brain to process it. “But how could you have lived if you did not survive as I have?”
“I’m sorry the answer still eludes you, Monius,” said Dev-Em, and at last it began to dawn on Monius Elysius. Monius had been the greatest warrior of his age, akin to Hercules and Achilles during the Roman Era of the Emperor Augustus. He was the beloved hero, and a rank and file soldier in the vast armies of Rome. His Centurion was Devious Emorius, who was also his best friend. When the shadow of Mordru began to extend too far, a great unified army was gathered and for the first time, the ancient enemies of the West and East (Rome and Persia), united together to form one great army to combat Mordru. But Mon-El, the great hero, was too much of a threat, and Mordru’s spies poisoned his water with lead, bringing him near death until he could be placed in the Zone of the Phantoms by Augustus himself, and the Persian Diplomat Ralex Jorg. And he thought—Dev also. “But how could you…? How could you serve him…? You saved me…?”
“Saved you? I searched long and far to figure out where Augustus buried you, until I was convinced you were dead. You’re still blinded my friend. I serve Mordru now as I have always served Mordru. As I served Mordru when I poisoned your water and when I believed I had killed you at last. As I shall serve him when it at last becomes my duty to kill you.”
Mon stared at him, and Dev looked back into his eyes. There were no words between these ancient warriors. The ultimate betrayal at last had come out into the open between these once best of friends.
“How will you plan to do that, assassin?” asked Mon-El in contempt. “Attack me now, as I lay helpless in a hospital bed?”
“No, friend. You and I shall fight a duel to the death in front of Lord Mordru and at last we shall know who is superior.”
Mon shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
Dev-Em smiled. He picked up a steel sword and suddenly crushed it into a ball of scrap metal. “Believe what you want. But I have always been just like you. You and I are the same, old friend, with the same abilities. While you stole the glory, I was simply a spy and friend off to the side. But now, I will show you what these abilities are like when used by someone with twenty centuries of practice.”
--------------------------------------
Tatiana awakened at last, covered in the darkness, separated from the rest of them. Unknown to her, she was placed separately in a darkened prison cell two levels beneath them, deeper in the sub-levels of the cavern. The cavern was hardly Mordru’s castle or even one of his regular buildings. But in Mordru’s mind, to allow his new enemies to set foot into his ‘Holy Palaces’ seemed disgraceful. And he had enjoyed sentencing his enemies to death in this cavern over the centuries.
Next to Tatiana was the figure of Blok, which though on the cold cement, used its sentience to draw up moisture through the cracks in the cement from the Earth below and at last restore its body. Foolish of Mordru to once more not act immediately and destroy him outright. But Blok knew Mordru wanted him to see his new allies die first.
“Blok?” she asked suddenly scared. “Blok, where are the others?” There was real terror in her voice, her recent capture by Nardo and the Dark Circle still fresh in her mind.
“ They’ve separated us,” he said.
“But…” she began then stopped, until finally continuing “…but why would they put me with you?”
“Because Tatiana, your ancestors have long battled the Dark Lord, as long as almost I, and longer than even Jacquie’s family. Mordru’s distaste for your lineage is great enough to keep you completely out of his sight. When at last he has killed our friends, it will give him the greatest pleasure to kill us two. Mordru sees little difference between you, your grandfather, your ancestors hundreds of years ago, or your great ancestor during the time of Monius Elysius’s age.”
Tatiana was silent at this, and the panic of all that had happened since began to set in. Talking with her friends through their link over the years was amazing: her, Nura, Maziah, Jacquie, Sara and Irma had become a close-knight group of friends. And though she had suspected there was some deeper reason for them all to be connected, she never would have believed it had to do with the Ancient struggle against Mordru. Now all that had happened: from the Emerald Empress, the Persuader, on the run from the Dark Circle, her skin turning blue making her a freak, those bastards hurting her and Tenz, to seeing Mon get shot…it was all so much.
She recalled her recent experience with Nightcrawler and doing the same as she did then, she began to envelope herself in her own darkness. And it soothed her, and calmed her. As she began to relax, she once more heard the whispers…the whispers she had always heard growing up, which once frightened her, and once made her question herself, but now were comforting.
Blok spoke to her: “listen to them Tatiana, listen to what they say…perhaps you are ready for their knowledge and wisdom…perhaps they can help us in our mission, where I have failed us so greatly…”
And so she listened to them, and they grew louder…
“Tatiana,” one voice said strongly.
“Grandmum,” said Tatiana, as Lydia Mallor emerged from the darkness. “I-I’m afraid. I’m so afraid…”
“Be strong child. You are in the heart of the Dark Lord’s lair, but there is always hope…look to your family, for there is always hope…”
And so among the shadows they all began to emerge. Oldest among them, Nommo the Wizard-King at last emerged. “Mordru’s magic is the magic of Ekron,” he began, “and to defeat him with any other magic, any weaker magic, will do no good. No,” he continued, “he must be defeated by his own magic or by other means, such as the Earth itself. You must look back to Ekron, child…” and so he began Mordru’s tale at long last.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
“Ekron?” said Tatiana, to the various shadow ancestors that came forward.
“Hush child,” said her grandmother Lydia Mallor. “He is the oldest among us, and you must respect him as he speaks.”
“She is right Tatiana,” said Blok.
“You can see them too Blok?” replied the teenage hero. “None have ever been able to…”
“But the brotherless one is not like any other”, said Nommo, first among her ancestors, the once Wizard King of Kor. “And it does me well to see him once more,” he added.
“I too, noble King, though I shall remain silent while you consult with descendent.”
Nommo continued. “When the Earth was still young, a great kingdom was upon it and it was filled with glory and beauty. All were in good health and the spoken word was like music. Ekron was the great kingdom, and all that dwelled there were blessed with long life, great mastery over the various arts and the wondrous need to explore the boundaries of the universe, both within us and outside of us. Ekron was the Golden Age of humanity, and the Ekronians were a pre-human race that achieved perfection. For they were not human beings, but the first race upon this Earth, a race born of perfection of the mind, spirit and body.
Their mastery of the arts included the great sciences and magics, and the ability to forge items such as rings, helms, scepters and swords. Epic poetry and song that could take control of one’s emotions. Mastery of the ebb and flow of time. Mastery of the hearts of others.
Yet Ekron was destined to fall, because there was one among them who desired not the expansion of science of magic, nor the chaotic glory of creation. Mordru desired the orderly subjection of these notions. He desired a way to catalogue them, to describe them, to understand them and control them. In his heart, Mordru hated the unpredictable beauties of Ekron. Look child, into the darkness, and see:”
Tatiana looked, with Nommo, Lydia, Blok and her other ancestors, and the image of ancient Ekron could be seen in the darkened shadows. A blurry, shadowed version of the past, but enough to make out the figures:
The man known as Mordru enters the deep valleys of his dearest allies, amazed and delighted at the creation of such a splendid and beautiful small continent. “Perhaps you should leave a lasting magic effect on this land,” he speaks aloud, “and mark it as your own for millennia to come.” “Nay, friend,” replies his ally joining him from the roots of a nearby bush. “I shall allow it to grow as it will independently, for I am curious to watch things grow.” “Ro Jath,” replies Mordru, “one day you shall learn that to watch things grow is to watch things die. You must involve yourself in shepherding it forward, tending to your gardens as they blossom.” “On that, we differ my friend,” smiled Ro Jath, and the two were at ease amongst each other. These were two of the greatest of all of Ekron, matched only by a third, who was similar to both, yet different still. “Tell me more of your orbs,” said Ro Jath. “My Emerald Eyes,” said Mordru, “one of my greatest creations, they will hold a part of my essence in them forever, and shall bound themselves to their wearers. Perhaps I shall offer them to this creature man, as a gift of our benevolence.” “They are indeed wondrous,” said Ro Jath, “but to bind themselves to another is to instill harsh rules. To you would you offer them?” “To my most beloved of course,” replied Mordru, which ended the conversation. Ro Jath did not like that Mordru had begun to take on concubines from the primitive creature known as man, and even worse, now offered them these items of enormous power. “Ah, our friend joins us.” The third of their group, Thymius, at last joined them. He looked troubled, however, and shaky, and pulled his hood far over his face as if to cover his features. “What is it Thymius?” asked Ro Jath with concern. “What ails you?” “My friends, while you do you duties to conceive new ideas and place restrictions on them, I do my own to gaze into the future and the past and understand the nature of time. And what I see troubles me. It troubles me greatly. Lo, that such a burden fall on one such as I.” “I do not understand, my friend,” said Mordru. “Surely the future holds glories we do not even comprehend yet, as Ekron shapes the world?” Thymius was silent for a time, and at last spoke. “I see the future, and Ekron will not be a part of it for long. I see War and I see great disaster, and Ekron itself shall be destroyed. A great civil war will consume us…” Ro Jath was greatly concerned, while Mordru scoffed at the idea. “War? What good might war be in the acts of creation?”
Now Nommo was silent. “And did it?” asked Tatiana. “Did war happen in Ekron?”
“Indeed,” replied Nommo. “A great and horrible Civil War destroyed the great Kingdom of Ekron. What did you see in Mordru child?” asked Nommo.
Tatiana thought about this for a moment before answering. “I saw a man—an entity rather, wishing to instill order, rules and restrictions upon creation. The antithesis of creation. At last, I believe I understand him.”
“Yes, that is true,” said Nommo, and even then his intent was always to conquer and destroy Ekron. And so he tried—but of course, he failed. Civil War ripped Ekron apart, and the Ekronians all died. The Earth was spilt and the wonderful creations of the Ekronians were destroyed. Ro Jath’s continent was sent forth into the oceans, a remnant of what it once was. Mordru’s own Emerald Eyes were split at the Earth was split. One lost in its ancient hiding place, on the other side of the world, while the other remained close to Mordru, and was eventually recovered and used by his concubines, the Emerald Empresses. For Mordru still lived, and still his goals remained the same.” An image of great destruction appears in the shadows, as two large pyramids, each holding an eye, are split apart—one in pyramid moving with South America across the ocean, and another moving in the opposite direction in Eastern Europe. In the middle, a small island remains afloat.
“This is all true, for the destruction of Ekron was disastrous for the Earth, and a second such occurrence would surely destroy the Earth. As I once spoke, the Planet is a living, breathing thing and it was then it produced its greatest son to live and die for it, to rise up and carry on its own sacred mission. I came into existence to serve the planet and restore the sacred order, by destroying Mordru the most orderly and returning the Planet to a time when it no longer lived in such peril, for life cannot live under the boot heel of one man, and without life on the outside of it, there is no life within.”
“And you, ancestor?” asked Tatiana.
Nommo smiled. “I, child,” he began, “I was King of Tor, a kingdom of men in the earliest ages, and though our people feared the great Spider-Devil, known only as Mordru, I ventured into his lands and found the Ancient Paradise we knew of in our legends. It was then that I drank his waters, perhaps polluted by his darkness, or perhaps blessed by the other Lords of Ekron, and received the gift of the shadows, which have been passed down among my line.” Though a shadow, Nommo’s eyes appeared to twinkle at the mention of other Lords of Ekron. The shadows reveal an Ancient Kingdom in Africa, and a great fertile valley where Nommo once drank.
“Good bye now child,” said Nommo, placing his hand on Tatiana’s shoulder, “and good luck.” Nommo drifted away into nothingness.
Another shadow-wielder joined Lydia Mallor, this one Rostam, the great Persian warrior. Rostam spoke: “Mordru’s wicked scheming has continued over the ages, and the son of the Earth has battled him, often with allies. Your line, Tatiana Mallor, has defended the world against Mordru many times since the days of Nommo. In Egypt, while Mordru uncovered the Eye of Ekron within the Sphinx and began the line of Emerald Empresses, your family helped battle against him. He has known many names: Hades to the Greeks, Pluto to the Romans. It was I who fought alongside these Romans, when the two great Empires of its age, Persia and Rome, gathered together for one time to battle Mordru. It was I who knew Monius Elysius and befriended him, and it was I who intended my daughter marry him one day. She would never have the chance—perhaps you, child, will see to rectifying this ages old problem.”
Though in darkness, Tatiana could feel the heat on her face as she blushed.
“Once Monius Elysius was betrayed, more betrayals were to follow. And so you must take that lesson to heart, Tatiana. There are those among you that will fall victim to Mordru’s honeyed words and plentiful promises. You must be wary of traitors at all times. But you must also stand by your brothers and sisters at arms, and trust and love them. For only in unity can you hope to defeat Mordru. It is this balance between the two that you must contend with in your war against the Dark Lord. The great united armies stand against Mordru but are unable to defeat him.
Now Rostam disappeared and Lydia Mallor became the remaining ancestor in the darkness with Tatiana. Blok too, seemed to disappear. “Grandmum…I’m not sure what to do…” she said.
“There are no great secrets to tell you, dear child,” replied Lydia Mallor. “Other than you come from a long line of fighters and warriors, and you must find the strength to continue on and to battle on. You cannot allow yourself to be placed on the sidelines or to be put under the heel of the Dark Lord. You must battle and you must fight. For many millenia, Mordru has used his power to stop the natural growth of human beings so they could not develop the new skills awarded to them by evolutionary change. Yet, we, your ancestors, have battled Mordru nonetheless, often aidless, often within a small group with little chance of success. All of this has changed, as less than (25) years ago, Mordru’s great spell was broken, and man once more was free to develop as it was designed to do. Now there are numerous among you that can stand against him, and you must be one of their captains.”
Lydia became silent. Tatiana was also silent, but now she was no longer worried. Something had changed within her, as she began to understand her true nature better for the first time in her life. She was ready.
“Thank you, ancestors,” she said.
“You are welcome child,” replied Lydia. “Trust in the darkness—when Mordru’s end comes, darkness will be the last thing he sees”
“Remember your cousin Greg,” said Rostam.
“Look to the West,” said Nommo, “your greatest ally remains hidden yet still”
And with that, they disappeared, and Tatiana pulled away the cloak of darkness, and so that once more, she and Blok were alone in the natural darkness of the cell.
“Blok? Can you move now?”
“Yes. I have been waiting for you. It is our time now, lady of the shadow, to go before the Dark Lord.”
“I’m ready.”
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Lorna sighed as she looked out the window of the taxi. NYC certainly hadn't got any less... crowded in the time she'd been away.
It had only been a few weeks since she'd left Legion HQ, in a haze of helicopter-strewn dust, exhausted at everything which had happened to her, but with the memory of kissing Cos still on her lips. It felt like more than a year had gone by.
Now, it was time to see if she could "go home again", be a Legionnaire again after everything McCauley and Enrapture had put her through. And she was trying to do it quietly - she'd only had one contact with the team in the time she'd been away, a personal (pen & paper) letter to Cos in the middle of her "break" saying (amongst other things) that she wanted to be back before Xmas. He'd written back in turn, basically saying (amongst other things) that that'd be fine, that Gene "understood" that she hadn't wanted to make a scene over her departure, and to get back as soon as she felt up to it.
She didn't want her "return" to be a big thing though. After logging her presence "on-site", she wanted to get to her room before running into anyone. Registering as Active could wait a day - she was in a very "Orange" mood... ________________
Three Days Earlier:
The smell of the stable got her every time, she thought as she saddled her horse, Aladdin. It was about the only thing she could remember of that fateful night three years earlier when, exhausted, hungry and ill, she'd collapsed there and fallen into Raymond John Brande's life. She looked over at her adoptive dad as the old man saddled his own horse, Maria, with the practiced ease that came with so many years of riding. While she struggled to get it right as usual.
Eventually, she made it and they rode out together.
"You've been quiet," he said, breaking the silence.
"I'm just thinking."
"Hah! - lass, I've been around for long enough to know the difference between 'thinking' and 'brooding'. And that's too long to think brooding helps now. What's troubling you?"
"I had... I've been having this dream, this nightmare for the past few nights..."
"And what happens in this 'nightmare'?" R.J. asked, trying to keep his gravelly voice soft.
"I'm, all three of me, lying strapped down to a table. And there's two voices, male and female, who keep saying things over and over, like 'Your will is irrelevant', 'Your hopes are irrelevant', 'Your dreams are irrelevant', 'Who you were is irrelevant'. Just over and over, burning how irrelevant I am as a person into my heads. Then, eventually, they come out of the shadows, and it's McCauley and Enrapture. And then they take two of me - Neutral and Purple - and start doing things to me, and I start screaming, while Orange has to watch. And then it keeps going on, and on, with pain and confusion and... until I can't take any more and wake up."
"Lorna..."
"And it makes me wonder - how much of 'me' is left? Being split in three tore my mind apart, and Irma had to put it back together when she didn't even know me. Then McCauley and his machine came along, 'helped' by Enrapture, to poke holes about in my brain for them to use. Did Irma manage to put everything they broke back together? What if-"
Brande cut her off. "Lorna, lass, listen to me. You're the daughter I found in those stables three years ago. TOO like her - I've seen you find your confidence, and now it's gone again. If I could pull a bottle of it out of the air for you I would. But I'd know if there was a stranger looking back at me from your face, and talking with your mouth. There isn't."
She looked doubtful. "But what should I do?"
"Whatever you want! Go back to your friends in the Legion! Go to college! Get a job - with me, with Brande Industries, somewhere. The only thing I won't let you do is nothing - you've been at that for a month and you're worse off now than when you started! Do you want to go back to the team?"
She thought of Cos for a moment, then Irma and Garth. "Yes...
"Then do it soon. Please." ________________
She would have made it - having signed in via the back way, via the freight elevator and then straight into the Legion accommodation though the "air lock" - a seal-capable booth with thermal, fingerprint & retina scanners to verify IDs - if it hadn't been for a small, silver ship, whose lack of a mouth never stopped him from running it off...
"HEY, EVERYBODY, LORNA'S BACK!!!"
She split, and Neutral made frantic "sssh"ing motions while Purple actually tried attacking the pest, who stayed maddeningly out of reach as it broadcast her arrival far and wide. She gave up as she heard footsteps approaching, and several Legionnaires appeared on the scene. Lyle was first, as always, then Gene, Shifter & Gear. After giving up, Purple stayed where she was, some paces in front of the other two, while Neutral clasped the handle of their shoulder bag tightly and looked embarrassed and Orange tried to slip surreptitiously behind her. None were quite sure how to react.
After a moment, Leviathan was the one to break the silence, and began spouting off about how she should have called, filled in forms, etc. Just as he started however, any thought of listening to his yammering stopped, as she locked eyes with the entering Cosmic Boy. His gauntlets were off, and his face and hands were wet, but that barely registered as she ran forward, merging as she went, and hugged him tightly.
Lyle placing his hand over Gene's mouth and saying "Look guys, it's obvious she didn't want a scene even if Quislet caused one. Let's give them some privacy, huh?" before filing them out didn't register at all.
Eventually, simultaneously, the two released one another.
Cos broke the silence. "I missed you," he said gently, brushing a strand of her hair back.
"I missed you too," she smiled. "I was going to stop by later - well, maybe Purple," she smiled more broadly, "but I didn't want Mr. Telsiuq to get the chance to announce me like that."
"Done's done," he said. "Here..." Cos grabbed her discarded bag by the metal handle, and they walked to her room. __________________
Approaching her room, Lorna split again, with Orange hurrying in, and Purple looking around cautiously as Neutral focused on Cos.
"So,... how have things been around here since you wrote?"
"Hectic apparently. I only got back myself from a week at home yesterday. Since then, there's been a few more bits of fallout from a mission Lyle apparently blew in-"
"Wait - LYLE blew a mission?"
"According to Lyle, Gene set him up."
"That, I can believe." Purple finally entered the room.
"Thought you might, and he might just have a point from what I've seen. It's mostly been that until..." he checked his watch, "...just over an hour ago, when Tina showed up on TV."
"Is she okay? What-" Orange spoke up.
"She looked fine - some guy flew her into the middle of a big conference at her mother's castle." The three Lornas winced - Orange thinking of how Tina had described the Countess Winona's reactions to various things she'd done as a kid; and Neutral & Purple at the potential, political, knock-ons for Cos & the team.
"Gene found out?" Purple asked.
"About thirty seconds after I did. He took it about as well as you'd expect."
"No wonder he was so glad to see me..." Purple replied.
"What about the others?" Orange interjected.
"Nothing. At the same time, Tina didn't look beaten up or unhappy-"
"Tina would look happy after she'd been left to starve in prison for a week." Purple snorted.
"She DOES tend to hide when she's not feeling so happy, and do it well..." Neutral broke in to clarify quickly.
"True, but..." Cos shrugged. "You know as much about it as I do now.
They stood, suddenly, ever-so-slightly, awkward around each other all of a sudden, unsure what to say next, until Neutral noticed a strange greenish blob sticking out of Cos' pocket. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at it.
"This?" He took it out, revealing the green blob to be one of three small blobs - the other two red & blue, respectively - around a larger yellow-white blob. "Stress ball thing. Apparently, it was sent to me a couple of months back, but it only filtered down through the parcel-checking systems not long after you left. I was using it earlier, not long before Quislet went nuts."
"Can I see it?" Neutral asked.
"Sure."
He moved to hand it to her, but as it came in contact with her hand, before he released it, something happened...
He felt a wave of dizziness hit him...
She felt her 'sisters' rushing towards her in a forced merger...
“The minute they get here, I want them in this office. They don’t even get to go to their quarters,” said Gene at the top of his lungs. “The nerve! To just call us up on the phone and say ‘we’re at the airport and could you send over a car and pick us up because we can’t afford cab fair’!” Gene was screaming at the top of his lungs, which wasn’t unusual, but the subject matter was creating quite a bit of excitement. Apparently, the Legionnaires missing for the last few weeks were returning within the next thirty minutes and it would be quite the sight to see.
“Where’s Cos?” asked Live Wire. “Or Lyle?”
“Don’t even get me started about Lyle,” said Gene. “Where’s Dreamer—let’s get her in here right now, since she’s as much to blame as them.”
Dreamer cringed. “You’re in trouble…” whispered Element Lad, as they were standing around the corner from the leader’s office, listening to Gene’s latest rant. “What are you--?” But before, Element Lad could finish, both were surprised to see R.J. Brande, of all people, turn the corner.
“Nura?” he said. “Can I have a minute with you?”
Nura almost choked on her words, as suddenly the idea of being in trouble with R.J. Brande was something she couldn’t just smile and laugh away. “Uh, sir, I think Gene is going to want to see me in a few minutes…” she said, and Element Lad couldn’t help but laugh.
“He can wait,” said R.J. Now everyone was surprised.
------------------------------
Nura sat uncomfortably in a nice chair in a room she had never been in before. Apparently, R.J. Brande had a nice office on one of the top floors in the Legion’s headquarters, though none of them had ever checked it out (which was odd, because with this group, every inch of the place should have been checked out). “Can I help you with anything, sir?” she asked. Nura was strikingly beautiful, and normally her nonchalant confidence intimidating the others more than a little. Right now, that confidence was uncharacteristically shaky.
“Indeed,” said Mr. Brande, as he sat in another chair, so that they were facing each other. “This will seem odd, my dear. You see, I’ve been having these weird dreams lately, and I although I thought they were at first just anxiety, I’m wondering if there’s something more to them.”
“Oh!” said Nura, suddenly more at ease. “Well, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be sir, since, well, I don’t really have anything to do with other people’s dreams. Its just my own that help me see into the future on occasion.”
“Right, right,” he said, obviously having heard this from someone else a few times. “Still, I thought it was worth taking a few minutes to explain it to you and see if it helps. Either way, it gives you an excuse to avoid Leviathan,” he added, and she smiled at that. All of the Legionnaires who had been around the longest loved Mr. Brande and she could see why.
“What are your dreams about sir,” she said at last, deciding to just play along if it meant she didn’t need to get the riot act read to her yet again for their little secret mission.
“They’re quite odd,” said R.J. Brande, as he talked very low and very slow, making sure each word came out just right so he got across the image he was picturing. He had a very pleasant way of talking, Nura thought, and when he was relaxed like this, it was infectious—you couldn’t help but relax yourself. “Its of a garden, you see…I’ve had various gardens in my homes over the globe, so I’m not sure which garden it is…but it smells beautiful. You can really smell the tomatoes ripening and each time the wind picks up, another wave of the fresh smell comes forth. The insects are buzzing, and although its not a hot day, the sun is beating down just enough to make a nice light sweat come on you. When the wind picks up again, it hits the sweat in a way that feels like you’re truly alive.” Nura could picture it perfectly. When she and Maziah were girls, they often loved to escape to the outdoors to get away from their father. She could almost see herself running around the garden with R.J. Brande. No—not R.J. Brande, with Maziah.
“There’s a wood groove not far off on the side of the garden,” said R.J. softly, “and I can’t help feel compelled to go to it,” he added. Nura felt the compulsion too. She and Maziah walked over, and she turned to see their longtime friends Jacqueline, Tatiana and Irma with them (oddly though, no Sara). “But in the garden…there’s a snake…” said R.J., but Nura could hardly hear him anymore. She was picturing it herself, and R.J.’s soothing voice seemed to take her away to another place completely. They were all laughing in the garden, but that groove was drawing them over there. Maziah and Irma were no longer there, but she was having fun with Tatiana and Jacquie. She was delighted to see how beautiful they both were, as they had never met in person, and she found Tatiana’s blue skin to be very pretty indeed. As they approached the groove, though, a tremendous sense of danger washed over here. There was something awful in there, but Tatiana and Jacquie were still walking towards it.
And she saw it, in the grass: a large, venomous snake, waiting for them to get closer. Waiting, so it could pounce on them and devour them. The snake looked at her, with its little eyes, small black slits on either side, and she realized upon seeing its eyes that the snake was her father.
She shrieked at the top of her lungs, screaming and screaming as tears rolled down her cheeks! The screaming woke herself out of the dream, and she realized she was crying; her heart was pounding, even her head was pounding as a vicious migraine headache set in. R.J. Brande kneeled in front of her and held her tight, hugging her and she hugged him back fiercely. “It’s alright child,” he said softly, “you’re safe, it was just a dream. You’re safe now,” and she realized she was trembling.
“No…no, it wasn’t just a dream…” she whispered. Mr. Brande’s warmth calmed her down some, and as the unfamiliar feel of a fatherly hug seemed to knock her back into the present, as the dream faded away. “I don’t think it was just a dream…” she said.
“Everything is going to be alright,” said R.J. and the firmness and strength in his voice brought her comfort. He seemed sure of it.
------------------END INTERLUDE----------------
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
In their cage, the heroes sat without speaking. Their powers would not work, and so Spirit, Dirk and Tenz quietly waited until they could think of something to do. Valor also waited, trying to peace together the best method of escape if he could somehow destroy these bars. But what good could it do, if Mordru was down below?
And he remained down below. Hasim had been freed, and to their horror, had performed what Mordru asked, killing O’Ryan the Hunter with one crushing blow. It was a mercy killing, for sure, but it was still murder. When he was done, Hasim looked up at Jacquie as if to tell her this was for her. It broke her heart. She sank to her knees after that, and seemed distant, as if what was happening hardly mattered. She now looked as distant as Jason Blood.
Mordru was pleased with this, and Val surmised it was the outcome Mordru most desired. Mordru sat quietly for awhile now, and Val wondered if he was contemplating what to do with them. Hasim had been taken away from them afterwards to who knows where? At last, he motioned for his feline, Asmodeus to come forth. “The games will continue,” he said, “bring forth the Daxamites.” Val had no idea what a Daxamite was, but he didn’t like the sound of that.
Soon, he realized what they were talking about. “Dev-Em!” yelled Mordru triumphantly, as a warrior clad in purple armor with a long spear, short sword and shield walked into the chamber, strutting forward as if a conquering hero. “Are you at last ready to prove you are the greatest warrior of your era?” Mordru asked, as if having a private joke with himself.
“I am,” said Dev-Em.
“Very well,” he continued. “Bring forth the great Monius Elysius!” Now the heroes all moved to the edge of their cage, in order to see Mon-El walk forward. He still had his torn jeans and boots, but his shirt was long torn off. They draped his blue cloak over his back, and they could see fresh stitches and bruises from where he was shot. He had a very subtle limp, but each Khundian soldier could notice it, so Dev-Em most assuredly did as well. They had given him a spear, but no shield or sword. “And you, Monius Elysius? Are you read to destroy the one who betrayed you two millennia ago? Who betrayed the greatness of Rome?” he added, sarcastically.
Mon-El stood before him, looking up, as Mordru’s glamour caused him to see 30 feet high to the ancient warrior. Mon, took the spear and threw it on the ground. “For you, I offer nothing, not my bood…not even his” he said, looking at Dev-Em.
“Coward!” said Dev-Em, as Mordru suddenly grew in fury, but then calmed himself.
“Go ahead, friend” said Mon-El to Dev-Em. “Cower before your master. Beg for his scraps.”
Before anyone could react, Dev-Em flew at him with super-speed and landed a mighty blow with his super-strength, knocking him into scores of soldiers like a bowling ball into a series of pins. As the Khundian soldiers scrambled, they all picked and punched at Mon-El, more a bother than anything else. Above, the heroes were shocked to learn that Dev-Em was indeed as powerful as Mon-El. Mon rose to his feet, rubbing his jaw, as Dev-Em positioned his spear so that it would stab right through Mon. “I’ve tipped it with lead, Monius,” he said.
“You would,” said Mon-El, suddenly snatching it out of his hand and ripping it to a thousand pieces. He was back on Dev-Em in seconds and the two hammered at each other with super-strength, so that the very walls rumbled, and the cage of heroes above began to swing wildly. The armor and weapons along the walls began to fall off to the floor. Mordru watched clinically with curiosity. Dev-Em then pulled out his sword, and went to stab at Mon-El, but Mon was waiting for it, and pulled the weapon forth, ripping it out of his hands, and hammering a blow on the back of his neck.
Then, in a suddenly display of wrath, Mon-El took the sword and hauled it at Mordru himself! Mordru quickly pointed his hand, and blasted it, turning it to dust, but now his ire was raised. “Insolent whelp!” he cried, “Dev-Em, it falls on you to make him pay for that!”
Mordru’s attention was purely on the battle now, as Jacquie looked up at last, the rumbling shaking her back to normal. Hasim’s actions hurt her more than she could say. But now something was happening. Mordru was no longer looking directly at her, and she felt a degree of freedom. She looked at Jason Blood, next to her, who seemed to be aware of her gaze. “Its useless,” he whispered. “Once he has you, he never lets go…”
Jacquie said nothing but looked into him, and realized what he was. Her power over illusion stripped away the glamour and she knew that he was a vessel the demon Etrigan shared, and at last she realized Etrigan was a prisoner of Mordru just as she was. Using her illusion powers, she placed a hand on Blood’s own hand, extending her shackles the farthest they would move to do so.
“What?” he said suddenly surprised.
And she spoke aloud: “Gone, gone form of man, live the Demon, Etrigan”
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Topic Closed
Hyperpath: Email this page to someone!
Printer-friendly view of this topic | Subscribe To Topic
