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The effect was immediate; as Jason Blood’s human form began its hideous transformation once more to the Demon Etrigan. Jacquie suddenly fell backwards and hoped that this was not in vain, that the first thing the Demon did was devour her alive for unleashing him.
Mordru knew immediately what had happened, and turned his gaze on them both, causing Jacquie to feel the heat as if it was burning her skin. “Whatever safety your mongrel dog won you is now lost, daughter of traitors and whores,” he said, as he raised his hand at her.
But Etrigan the Demon was too quick and had been waiting for a chance like this for many decades—to be called forth not by Mordru or Mordru’s servants, but by another.
Mistake you’ve made, Lord of Flies, Held me prisoner and gloated, Lord of filth, lord of lies, ‘tis towards your end, I am now devoted
And with that, Etrigan unleashed all of his demonic might on Mordru and the two locked in battle. In truth, Etrigan was no match for the Dark Lord and could never match him in power or skill, but he was still a demon prince of hell, and could not be easily dismissed. Hellfire sprang forth from his mouth, consuming Khundian soldiers who were in the vicinity, though it had little effect on Mordru. With neither spoken word nor movement of hand, Mordru unleashed his magic back on the Demon.
Not far off, Mon-El and Dev-Em battled each other boldly, attacking with all their might. Mon fired punch after punch upon Dev-Em’s with every intention of turning it into mush. “You were my favorite of them all,” said Mon-El to his former friend and betrayer.
Dev-Em landed a tremendous blow into his gut. “I hated you above all else,” said Dev-Em. “You were their beloved hero and I was nothing to them. A servant of the empire.”
Up above the four heroes again tried to use their powers, but it was no use. “We’ve got to do something” Spirit said, “this is probably our only chance!” Suddenly Val was pushing her and Tenz against the back wall, along with Dirk. Valor focused all of his concentration on his hand, and let loose a crushing blow, destroying the steel bars along the side.
“That’s great Val, but we’re like forty feet up in the air…” said Tenz, but Val suddenly leapt out the cage to the chaos below.
He landed right near Jacquie. “Val!” she said, as some of the Khundian soldiers saw him land and ran forward.
“I’ve got you,” he said, smashing Jacquie’s shackles next so she was free.
Suddenly, a huge blast echoed in the middle of the room, as Mordru nailed back the Demon with his full might, holding him against the wall. With ancient words none could comprehend, he banished him outright, causing the wall to explode around him, revealing a large whole into the city outside, to reveal the morning air and the rising sun.
Val and Jacquie suddenly became very aware of the Dark Lord’s presence close by, and felt an immense terror in their hearts the like they had never felt before. For Jacquie, she suddenly saw her father dying again before her very eyes, and felt the stinging betrayal of Sara. For Val, he felt a sense of letting down his sensei and abandoning his friends in the Legion by staying with this group. Both felt unsure and terrified, as Mordru gazed up on them. For until now, Mordru saw this as simple amusement until he could vanquish the one among them he truly believed dangerous, Blok. Here, the real Mordru prepared to reveal himself.
And it was at that exact moment, that Mordru received a vision from his daughter Nura bint-Mordru bin-Ahmad Al-Nayal, the Legionnaire known as Dreamer. Looking to the west, he saw her looking into his eyes, and at last he knew where she was. And he screamed at the top of his lungs or pure rage and anger, or pure hurt and heartbreak, because in his heart he knew Nura was forever lost to him. He looked deeper into the vision and held Nura’s gaze on him and he saw that with her was He who Mordru Hated the Most. Mordru heard His words whisper in his ear: “the fox knows many tricks; the hedgehog one good one.”
And suddenly, with a blinding flash, Mordru was gone. Without a trace, he was no longer there, pursuing a more important plan, pursuing something far more dear to him than this attempt at amusement. He at last could see his daughter Nura.
Jacquie and Val looked at each other with shock, as did everyone else, as Mon-El rose (barely) and Dev-Em rose (also barely) among the troops. Spirit floated down, now able to use her power, as Tenz and Dirk managed to find their way down. They were surrounded by numerous soldiers, when suddenly; two steady streams of shadow burst into the room, and knocked everyone backwards except the heroes. Tatiana Mallor entered, blasting the Khundia soldiers to the side, before blasting Dev-Em squarely in the chest. Dev-Em fell, not only stung by hard beams of solid shadow, but suddenly aware that in the midst of those beams was a long, wooden spear, tipped with bronze… and lead. She walked forward and held up Mon-El, and spoke in a booming voice: “Legionnaires, we’re leaving! Follow my lead!” as they ran out the whole Mordru had created.
The Khundian Soldiers however, were not prepared to give up that easily, and began to open fire.
Under fire, Dirk yelled, preparing to stay behind if need be. “Let me blast them! I’ll cover us for now!”
“No!” yelled Tatiana, “its part of the plan…”
“What about Hasim?” Jacquie said quietly to Val, still shell-shocked by the feeling of dread Mordru had given them both.
“I have him,” said Val, running off to the side around the building to search for him, just in time to see Hasim, come from the corner on his own.
“Go to hell,” he said angrily, “you have no one.” Val was shocked to see him, and Hasim looked quite shell-shocked, so Val didn’t push the issue.
“We better get the hell out of here before Dev-Em and Mordru come back,” said Dirk to Spirit matter of factly.
Spirit, immaterial, tried to direct their fire towards her. “But how are we leaving?” she yelled to Tatiana.
“That’s how!” yelled Tatiana, pointing at what looked to be a giant Khundian military jet.
“Oh, of course,” said Tenz, “I should have remembered that one of us knows how to fly one of those…one of us does know how to fly one of those, right?”
“Not quite,” replied Tatiana, as the heroes all ran towards the military jet. Now the Khundian soldiers moved in a formation, running out on the unpaved roads at the base of the cavern, exposing it for a mountainside that housed a large bunker within, which Mordru used for his ‘entertainment’. As they ran, they did not notice that this large mountainside began to take the shape of a man-like figure, or more precisely, of Blok, as he suddenly became one with mountainside, and with a rumbling noise, caused a giant rockslides into the roads below.
Within seconds, the rockslide began to consume the Khundian soldiers, who were all crushed by the falling debris.
“Now what, Shady?” said Tenz, and the use of her new ‘nickname’ didn’t register with either her or the others.
“The military jet. Inside it. Look…” she showed them what she had found not long ago. “An auto pilot. Its set for Khundia, but it’ll have to do. Its our only chance out of here. There’s no way we’d be safe on the outskirts of this city. We’ve seen a small taste of Mordru’s armies in this city, and they’ll be on us at any moment. And when Mordru gets back...” she trailed off, then turned to Spirit and Valor. “Can either one of you get this going if its on auto-pilot? Because you’re Legion training is what I’m banking on…”
Spirit smiled, hopping into a pilot’s seat as Val hopped into the co-pilots seat. “We can sure try…” They began pressing buttons and doing various things, as the others looked out the windows. At last, Blok began to make his way up, as Jacquie and Tenz attempted to add some speed and tried to pull him up.
Mon looked out the windows. “Dev-Em is still down there.”
“You’ll have your rematch Mon,” said Tatiana, assuredly. She seemed confident and sure of herself, while the others seemed shaken. “We’re going to Khundia, remember? Mordru’s allies.”
“If that was Mordru how are we ever going to fight him?” said Dirk to Blok.
“The time is not now, but a great many secrets have been revealed to us. You are not yet ready to battle the Dark Lord…but perhaps our brazen affront to him will tempt him into committing himself too early…”
Suddenly, the auto-pilot kicked into gear, and the plane began to move. It began to pick up speed.
“Its no use,” said Mon. “Dev-Em will be following us and he can outfly this plane. I’ll go out and meet him half-way.”
“He’s not coming anywhere Mon,” said Tatiana. “I didn’t just hit him with shadows. I hit him with a lead spear. Its time we start playing for keeps too.” Mon turned to her, and suddenly grinned.
The plane began to take off, and suddenly, they found themselves in the air. “Auto pilot?” said Dirk. “But there’s still a chance we’ll crash..”
“Of course,” said Spirit, “but we’ll take care of it,” she said, offering him a smile.
“But where did Mordru go?” asked Tenz, still terrified. Blok said nothing.
------------------------------------------
Mordru was no longer a physical form, but as an entity moved across the Atlantic Ocean, towards New York City, his poisonous presence sending a shiver down the spine of every person or animal he came into contact with. He had to know for sure that it was Nura who had come to New York City.
As he raced forward and approached New York City, he suddenly felt a tremendous barrier blocking his way. He tried again, but no…he could not enter the city. And it was then in his heart he knew she was in there, being protected from him.
Very well then…he would ensure agents of the most horrifying kind were sent to engage this ‘Legion’. It was far too soon in his planning, but they had pushed his anger beyond barrier. One daughter kept secret from him in New York and one group of his enemies having the audacity to defy him. Now it was time to once more declare war upon the Earth.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
They all sat quietly as the plane flew the short distance from Yemen to Khundia, now set on auto-pilot. Both Spirit and Valor had some brief training as Legionnaires on how to operate these types of military jets, although their knowledge was the bare basics. Somehow, through luck or some other force, they had managed to do okay so far. Flying there seemed to be no problem at all now that the jet was on auto-pilot. Landing, however, they weren’t sure about. “More importantly,” Tina had said to Val earlier, “what are we going to do when they see us coming, radio back to Yemen and realize this jet has been hi-jacked?” Val figured they didn’t have that much longer to figure that out.
Still, the plane ride seemed to take an eternity as the company remained very quiet and distant from one another. Yet another traumatic battle had occurred in a oddly growing list of them. Jacquie sat a bit off by herself, still feeling the fearsome glamour of Mordru, and still shell-shocked by Hasim’s murder of the man called O’Ryan the Hunter. Her feelings were jumbled and she did not even quite understand them herself, but Dirk, who had gotten to know her better in recent weeks, thought that it was probably the guilt of it all that was weighing down on her. In some way, because Hasim did it to save her life, she blamed herself.
She couldn’t bear to look at Hasim yet. He sat distantly by himself in his own corner of the jet itself. Dirk and he had never seen eye to eye, and to be honest, Dirk didn’t like him very much. But he felt some pity for him. After all, what did they really know about him and his past life? Next to nothing other than what they’d seen in the last weeks (had it been months? Dirk wasn’t sure). That thought made Dirk suddenly think of his own father, and that his father must be terribly worried about him…but he knew that wasn’t true. His father hardly ever spoke to him about the accident. Bruce Wayne, on the other hand, was probably worried about him, so perhaps it was time to give him a call. Or at least Gigi, who worked for Wayne and usually looked for Dirk. She was easy enough to talk to, and not too much older than him.
“We’ll need to figure out what to do before we arrive,” said Spirit, now voicing what she had said to Val.
Tatiana nodded. She had suddenly had a resurgence of confidence during the breakout of Mordru’s lair. “Much more than that, Tina,” she said calmly. “Its time we start getting out shit together.” They all looked at her now, as the harsh swear in her posh British accent surprised them. “What we need to do is stop running from place to place, being chased and kidnapped and imprisoned. We know who the enemy is, and we need to figure out what it is we’re going to do about it.”
“Well Shady,” said Tenz quietly, still shell-shocked, “we can’t go fighting Mordru. You saw what he can do. And we don’t know where Maziah is, or what happened to her…” he said trailing off. He was visibly shaken. The toll was beginning to be too much on him. Not long ago, his father had been murdered, just like Jacquie’s. Then he was captured and beaten by that hideous Nardo, and now this.
“I believe Maziah is alright,” said Blok at last. “But Ten Zil is right, it is not time to bring the fight to Mordru yet. He is still too strong. However, you must now realize he fights on a variety of fronts.”
“Exacty,” said Tatiana. “We don’t have to engage him directly. But there is still a great deal we can do. And we need to stop being so scared about doing so.” She turned to Tenz. “And you need to stop calling me Shady,” she said smiling and putting her hands on his shoulders. “My ‘codename’ will not be Shadow Lass,” she said, her voice much softer. “You need to get it together Tenz…” she said to him in a near whisper. “We still have each other, don’t we?”
Mon-El watched quietly, amazed at Tatiana’s sudden confidence and leadership. He watched her, seeing her again as if for the first time and loving what he saw.
Dirk walked over to Spirit and Valor. “Val…” he said in a low voice, “…you experienced whatever spell Mordru put on Jacquie at the end there. Maybe you should go talk to her.”
Val looked up at him, surprised at Dirk’s suggestion. Dirk’s eyes said much more though. Now is your chance to get to know her—and to help her, is what Dirk was saying. Val nodded, and walked over to Jacquie. She was still distant at first. Hasim watched them carefully, surprised at this. Finally Val spoke to her, his voice low enough so only they could hear (other than Mon, who choose not to listen). “It was terrible, was it not?” he said. “It is something I won’t soon forget…” he added, putting an arm around her, to give her comfort. It provided her some.
At the pilot’s seats, Tina now turned to Dirk. “We really need to figure this out…”
“We will,” said Dirk, very seriously. “That file, Spirit, you still have it? The one about the Dark Circle and the Dominion?”
Tina’s eyes went wide. She checked her long cape, revealing to Dirk that within it were various pockets and pouches to store items, and one was big enough hold files and papers. “Yes,” she said, suddenly relieved. “I think it’ll have some important part to play too, even if I still haven’t gotten around to finishing reading it.”
“Me too. And I think its near time we did read it. I think its time we get as much knowledge as possible so we can stop worrying about the past and figure out what to do now.”
Spirit nodded. The “heavy-ness” in the room was still incredibly strong.
“We will need to go to Khundia anyhow,” said Mon-El at last. They looked at him. “Those were Khundian troops, were they not? More than a few of you mentioned this to me. So if Khundia is Mordru’s ally, then there is most likely more going on there that we must understand.”
“I don’t think Khundia is the great menace they politicians made it out to be,” said Jacquie. “Just more attempts to scare the populace for their own aims. I think that’s what Relnic was beginning to realize.”
“There must be something wrong with it though,” said Val. “If Mordru is allied with the country.”
“Scaring the world with Khundia sounds like just the thing Mordru would do,” said Blok. “Giving the world an enemy to unify against, scaring nations into thinking of war…”
“But why? Sounds like he’d be unifying them just in time for them to rally against him.”
“You fail to realize that most do not know that Mordru exists. Unifying the world into one banner first—and then assuming the leadership of that banner, has always been Mordru’s most useful method of conquering. Mordru is no doubt attempting to create the Khundian threat and therefore create the response from your United Nations.”
“Its not my United Nations…” said Hasim to himself.
“And if the American George Whittington gets his way,” said Jacquie, “then the Legionnaires will be the first line of defense against Khundia—“
“—effectively taking them out of the war against Mordru when the dust settles,” added Val, completely her thought.
“There’s no doubt that Mordru has an agent, or more than one, working within the United Nations,” said Jacquie. “We were set up.”
Tina did not say anything but suddenly hoped desperately it was not her mother. Her mother and she were both practioners of magic…could it possibly be…? No, she pushed the thought out of her head.
“Mordru is attempting to create another Earth War. You cannot battle him. At least not without Maziah.”
“But we can stop his plans in every way possible,” said Tatiana. Suddenly she showed her tiredness, but then did her best to hide it again. “But…where is Maziah? We’ll need her to battle Mordru when the time comes.”
“We’ll need more than her,” said Mon-El. “I was wrong to casually dismiss the Legion of Super-Heroes in our war against Mordru. I told them they did not make it their own, when it already is. Perhaps we should not have been so willing to let Condo and Vi return to the United States. Perhaps we should have prepared them for the upcoming war?” They all thought this over.
“Its something to think about,” said Spirit. “But Val and I can easily try to get back into communication with them again.”
“They have their own holes to jump through,” said Val. “The American President Lex Luthor and UN Secretary General Chu have their own plans for the Legion. R.J. Brande has held them at bay for long enough, and even Cosmic Boy and Leviathan have their own ideas as to what the Legion is and what it can do.”
“Maybe we need an actual delegation to rally the Legion,” said Jacquie quietly, though the idea wasn’t focused on much.
“To Khundia it is then,” said Dirk. “And maybe we can do something about getting us some normal clothes, cell phones, money and oh, some other ‘minor’ things? Maybe even make a few phone calls, get a hold of a few people who might be worried about us?” They all smiled a little. “What do you say, Matter-Eater Lad?” said Dirk with a grin, as Tenz looked up.
Tenz was surprised. “So the codenames are in?” he said. “That makes you Sun—“
“Call me Flare,” he said, still smiling. “What? I knew it was inevitable. I had to come up with something better.”
Tenz suddenly broke out into a wind grin. Spirit too, seemed very excited. Tenz looked at Tatiana. “Shady?” he said with a smile.
“No…” said fake-moaned, and they all laughed.
“Umbra,” said Spirit. “Umbra would be perfect.”
Tatiana looked at her and even though she hadn’t really liked her much up until now, couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship with her after all they’d been through. She obviously had thought of this codename some time ago. “Okay,” was all she said with a half-smile.
Mon-El stood by Blok, the two of them looking at the group as a whole, as they turned to them. “Don’t look at us,” said Mon, speaking for both of them. “You’ve already given us each a name. I don’t think I want yet another one.”
Valor, sitting next to Jacquie, who had perked up a bit, no longer had his arm around her, but still was sitting close by. “Princess?” he said, getting in on the fun.
“Sensor would work,” she said, using Tina’s previous suggestion. Finally, she looked at Hasim, for the first time since Mordru’s lair. “Hasim?”
“Nemesis,” was all he said.
Tenz was still smiling at Dirk. “Guess that makes us super-heroes,” he said with a full-on smile, as he took out his black shades and put them back on.
“I wouldn’t’ go that far…” said Dirk.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
quote:Originally posted by Greybird: Well, there's also that offshoot of the Ute tribe that lived downwind of the U.S. government's Nevada Atomic Test Site, and got more than a normal dose of radiation. Fortunately, though, rare chemicals in their water supply diverted the particles into having nearly entirely benign effects, and the last three generations seem to have been growing bigger and bigger wings on their backs.
Nobody could take photos of these people, though, as the radiation in the area both made visitors sick and screwed up the film in their cameras. Still, one particular family had also gained what a particularly desperate reporter for the Enquirer mis-described as "psychic powers ..."
Starhaven Reservation, Nevada
Athletic, slim and beautiful, the sixteen year old girl known as Dawnstar continued to surprise Mistrider, her father. In the last two years, he watched her begin changing from the young tomboy into a woman right before his eyes. Most remarkable was she held on to the personality that had defined her all her childhood: acutely intelligent and fiercely combative when she felt threatened or insulted. It was that last trait that fueled her strong independent streak, which he knew would serve her well.
The Indian Reservation known as Starhaven, in the south of Nevada had been in an uproar for weeks now, and the anxiety seemed to be worsening. Another young girl had been missing for some time, Calantha and they all feared the worst. They had requested help from the U.S. Government, but President Luthor was not someone they trusted, since he seemed to show a keen interest in in Starhaven, given the community’s obvious changes as a result of the Nevada’s Atomic Test Site’s proximity all these generations. It was this, Mistrider knew of course, which was responsible for so many of their young to develop such odd abilities and changes to their forms. Although gradually noticeable in the previous two generations, it had been this last one where the change truly took effect. As, most clear to an outside observer, the young Starhavenites had developed actual wings as part of their bodies, which had given them the ability to fly.
Needless to say, the last sixteen years had been quite an adjustment for the community. Mistrider, ever the stoic his wife teased him for, took it in stride and watched in amazement as his daughter and others discovered the remarkable ability to fly. And it had been with great pride that he witnessed his daughter become the most proficient of all of the children, by leaps and bounds. Perhaps, that had something to do with her other natural ability which known of the others shared: her remarkable ability to ”track”. This ability was far more than the word implied, but ‘tracking’ summed up quite a lot of what she could, in that she could sense people and objects immense distances away, and be able to locate them even as they moved concurrently while she was tracking them.
It was with this tracking power, that Mistrider, filled with both a heavy heart and strong feeling of pride, now put the faith of all of Starhaven in his daughter.
“Dawnstar,” he said to her, while others looked on, “it is with great hope that I send you off, to relieve the anxiety of Starhaven and return to us our dear Calantha, who does not have your independence, nor your strength. Because it is with these attributes that you will do well in the outside world and any obstacles you face. Good luck, daughter.”
“Thank you father,” she said strongly, and even her younger brothers Greatfire and Greybird were amazed at the courage she showed.
And so, after some other more private and sentimental goodbyes, Dawnstar left Starhaven and entered the outside world in search of her kin.
---------------------------------
Lyons, France: Headquarters of the International Criminal Police Organization (Interpol)
“Interesting,” said Director Zendak, as he browsed through the mass of files on his desk. Zendak had multiple things to concern himself with at the moment, but he couldn’t help but find the information in front of him to be fascinating. (4) Legionnaires had moved across several countries, and at times quite publicly, in the last six weeks. More fascinating, however, was what appeared to be an unnamed group of additional teenagers that had traveled with them during part of this odd journey. And now that two had safely returned to the United States, two other Legionnaires remained behind in Europe (their present whereabouts currently unknown) and therefore, one must assume, with these other unnamed individuals. “Interesting,” he repeated to himself.
Interpol, though forbidden to become involved in a variety of matters, was chiefly concerned with publicly safety issues that moved through a variety of its member countries. And given this group’s apparent track record (India, Russia, Austria, Germany), they may very well fall into that category. Was it enough to justify an investigation to the Secretary General? Zendak thought it was. After all, one of those unnamed teenagers carried the Legionnaire through three different countries airspace. Super-powered human beings were not defined as weapons yet, but that topic was certainly still up in the air. Yes, an investigation on the trafficking of weapons was definitely warranted.
Zendak looked at the names of the agent who had assembled this file. Of course, he had to cut through all the bullshit and departmental politics, eliminating in his mind all the middle management desk jockeys hoping to cash in on this report. He finally settled on the name of Interpol Agent he was most sure assembled the report: Siobhan Erin, from the Sciences Division, specialized in nuclear, chemical and biological terrorism. She would have to get a promotion for having the smarts to notice this, the balls to assemble the report and the initiative to start the process in getting it on to his desk.
Still, she was just a science-cop right now. He’d have to someone with some more experience and authority to handle this investigation. He thought about it for a minute, before finally buzzing his administrative assistant. “Alice, can you call Agent Ontir’s office and have him call me?”
-------------------------------------
Fox News Station; Manhattan, New York, New York
Jack Ryder, annoyed as always, took one of the pencils on his desk and flung it across the room at the ceiling just above the door, so it stuck in the wall. Unfortunately for his young intern, Marella Tao, she was entering his office just as he did so, and almost catching a pencil in the face, moved out of the way, causing herself to trip in her stiletto heels and fall to the floor, ripping her stocking covered knee with a loud scream.
“Marella!” yelled Jack, suddenly embarrassed by her scream as other interns and co-workers looked into his office to see what the young intern was yelling about. “Watch where you’re going,” he said quietly, running over to offer her a hand to help her up.
“S-Sorry Jack,” she said. Jack Ryder, preeminent conservative news broadcaster on the Fox News Channel was widely known to be intimidating, intense and downright scary. This applied to his guests and other political pundits, but equally so to his friends and co-workers. To his young intern, he was terrifying. Still, the things you put up with to get your career started…
“I’ve got a call with George in about twenty minutes,” he said, immediately getting down to business. “Just a little prep before he comes back on the show.” He was talking about George Whittington, the United States’ UN Representative, who also frequently appeared on his show. “He’s going to be in Europe, so I told him not to look tired when we broadcast. It’ll be something like midnight there,” he added.
“2:00 AM actually Jack,” said Marella correcting him, but he didn’t notice. She sat on his couch, crossing her legs. In her white blouse and black skirt, she looked both professional but feminine and sexy. “And the topic will be Khundia?” she added, causing him to turn around quickly, startling her again. She thought he might yell or explode, but he didn’t.
“Of course,” he said with a sly smile. That devilish grin had been the bane of so many unsuspecting guests in the last decade. It highlighted his best two features: his dashing good looks (which, lets face it, got him ahead of the rest in this business) and his willingness to completely go after someone, even on live television. “Though George brought up an interesting idea. This Legion of Super-Heroes in the news…we haven’t really done much with them have we?”
“Fox has been covering them just about non-stop since they debuted,” she answered.
“Ha!” he replied with a cynical laugh. “Not Fox, us”, which of course meant him. “Its time we did a few bits on them. Looked at it from another perspective.” There was that grin again. “Of course, I think their leader is former military, a bonafide American hero from Iraq. So that’s our go-to boy. Him we can put up in front of our viewers. But really, I want to look at the Legion from the Khundian perspective.”
“The Legion from…the Khundian perspective?” she repeated, not quite grasping what he was saying. She leaned forward on the couch she was sitting on, her legs crossed (pulling her left leg up a little higher to hide the new rip in her stockings), pad and pen in her hand.
“You know,” said Jack with that grin. “Sending them into Khundia.” Now he looked at her right in the eyes, with a full-on smile, waiting for it to register. It did, and in truth it horrified her, the thought of sending the new Legion into the middle of a political nightmare. “Not bad, eh?” he said. But she knew he wasn’t implying the right and wrong of it all. He was implying the outrage, furor, unbridled support, and controversy it would cause. Still, when he looked at her like that, she couldn’t help but admire him. His dedication, his passion, his good looks…
“Should we line up some Legionnaires? See if we can get them on the show?”
“No, no, not yet. We need to know more about them. What are they…couple small town kids from Middle America mixed in with some foreign kids from various places? A couple of exotic locals? What’s that little ship thingie that always flies around them? I can’t tell you why, but I hate that thingie.” He was laughing at himself as he said that. Suddenly he stopped laughing. “No, I want us to dig up as much dirt as we can on them.”
“Okay…” she said, feeling more uncomfortable.
“Start with R.J. Brande though,” he added. “I still owe him for never doing my show. One of the world’s biggest businessmen, and he won’t do interviews. He won’t even talk about his past…just writes annual letters to his various shareholders,” he continued, talking to himself again, and evidently convincing himself of something. “Yeah, lets start with Brande. Let’s finally dig up the dirt on him.”
“Okay,” she said again, this time ready to follow-up before being cut off. “Should we use one of our investigators. I could go to our best, but she may refuse to work with us now, after well, you know…”
“Ms. Rockfish?” said Jack with that devilish grin. “She’s gotten over it by now, I’d hope? Attractive young lady like that? She can’t get hung up over one little affair that ended perhaps a bit too expectedly…” he added, and Marella knew he was referring to his brief affair with Celeste Rockfish, private detective, which ended when he didn’t bother to follow-up with a call. “No, she’s perfect. We’ll use her.”
“Got it,” said Marella, standing up and heading for the door. “R.J. Brande, here we come.”
[ March 12, 2008, 08:25 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
quote:Originally posted by Proty II: Carlsbad, California, Jose Rimbaud has paddled his surfboard out to catch the waves. All his friends heeded the reports that advised against surfing in the high storm surf, but "Surfer Jo", as he was known in the community, couldn't resist the swells.
Now Jonah is a pretty strong swimmer, but this morning the waves are pretty strong even for him. He misjudges the wave and it throws him down, deep beneath the surface. For a moment he's too disoriented to know which way is up. He swallows some water and for the first time he starts to think that just maybe he might have made a mistake.
He desperately swims for the light but something seems to be sucking him down. It feels like he's in a whirlpool and darkness surrounds him. GULP.
He's washed up...somewhere...in a dank cave lit by phosphorescent fish. It stinks. It really, really stinks. He notices that the water is acidic and seems to be eating away his neoprene suit. He climbs up on a pile of flopping fish and tries to figure out just what has happened to him.
quote:Originally posted by Proty II: The rescue ships searched the waters for days looking for survivors of the ill-fated whaler. So far they had only found three. One was near death, the other refused to say anything about what had happened, while the third was obviously driven mad by the experience. All he would do is scream "GODZILLA" and hide beneath the covers. They were just about to call off the search when one of the helicopters spotted a bizarre sight: a teenaged boy clinging to his surfboard in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. In the aftermath of its battle with the whaling ship, the radioactive sea creature had disgorged young Jose Rimbaud, but the experience had forever altered the California surfer. As the Navy doctors who examined him were about to learn, Surfer Jo was now the Boy with Ultra Powers!
quote:Originally posted by Reboot: It was a standard outdoor training day for the Workforce. At that moment, the seven of them were scattered all over the field, Dragonmage, Andromeda and Ultraboy in the air, Polarity and Spark - awkward around each other since the Hallowe'en party - at one end, Reflecto at the other, and Enrapture in the middle, and the first six were practising long-range attacks on a series of targets while Enrapture gauged their responses for report to McCauley later. Simple stuff. Routine - boring even.
It stopped being boring at 1438 hours, when a hail of bullets came from the bushes, with the seven Workforcers in the line of fire. Six of the seven escaped injury. Ultraboy, in flight and thus not invulnerable, was hit by at least four bullets, three glancing blows - one to the head - and one which lodged in his shoulder. He fell twenty feet before landing with a crack.
_________________
"So, Ultraboy..."
"Yes sir - all news of the incident has been suppressed so far, and the surgeons brought in have all signed Non-Disclosure Agreements."
"Any next-of-kin to cause trouble?"
"Not that we've found, sir, although in light of events, we're obviously rechecking. Right now though, he supposedly has fourteen mothers, and twenty-two fathers, half or which watched 'their son' grow up. None are expected to be genuine."
"What is his condition?"
"Comatose. Right now, it's 50-50 whether he'll last through the night, although if he does, the long term prognosis is expected to be good."
Rule #1 of the Streets: Never let them know what you’re thinking.
“Wake up Joe.”
Joe turned to see Dr. Mayavale walking farther down the hallway, only stopping by to yell into his room and then move on to cook breakfast. It worked—he had woken him up. And it had been quite the nightmare. Just like the night before. And every night before that since waking up from his coma. Those nightmares, he knew, were the price he had to pay for violating the code he had always lived by. The rules of the streets.
Over ten years earlier, José Rimbaud learned the lesson he’d never forget in the back streets of Compton, California doing whatever it took to survive. When you’re the child of mixed parentage, including white, Hispanic and Asian (in Compton, further specific designations don’t really mean much), you have it especially tough. Too bad those parents never bothered to stick around and lend him a hand with the problem they passed on to him. But you survive.
At age 11, he made his first drug deal and thought maybe life would be easier if he could get this kind of money. When he forced to explain this to a cop, the cop laughed, smashed him in the nose, breaking it, and took all the money he earned. Stupid. Never let them know what you’re thinking.
At age 13, his enthusiasm for acting, and the idea that he could move to Los Angeles, which was so close consumed him. Consumed him to point where he told his girlfriend Ana Maria that one day he’d be a Hollywood actor. The other Emerald Dragons didn’t like this kind of pansy talk. They gave him the beating of his life. Never let them know what you’re thinking.
At age 14, when Sergio, his best friend, was shot dead right before his eyes, José had fully learned his lesson—he didn’t let anyone know what he was thinking. He got the hell out of there, and relocated. Yes sir, to Carlsbad, the prettiest place in the world. And would you know it? He could act after all. “Surfer Jo” was born. Everyone loved Surfer Jo. The Laguna guys couldn’t believe his athletic ability and he lent them a kind of street cred they could only dream about. And the girls—the girls! The girls loved him, ‘nuff said. Surfer Jo, it seemed, had things a lot easier than José Rimbaud. Still, sleeping on the beach and making sure no one knew you were homeless, not to mention scrapping for food…well, hey, it wasn’t Compton.
He got comfortable. And all too quickly he forgot. So what, things became completely out of control and crazy? Giant dragon-type sea-beast swallowing you whole? And you live? Rich billionaire named McCauley offering you something you’ve never had before in your life—money—and you get to be a hero? A celebrity? You always thought you could be an actor, so hey, here was the celebrity bit with it too. One of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, and she wants you? Man, this is the life. Stupid, José, really stupid.
It caught up to him of course. Used like a plaything by the telepathic whore. You might have survived the streets of Compton alright José, but you won’t survive the WorkForce—bullets to the face make sure of that, as the little street-urchin is shot after all. He got comfortable. He got cocky. He let them know what he was thinking.
They did a prime job in dumping him too. Real top notch. No one seemed to know a thing about him—not that he was waking up anytime soon. Then he swore a voice hit him like a hammer one day: WAKE UP JOE. And he did. The first thing he thought of: not that cop, breaking his nose and taking his cash. Not Sergio getting gunned down or Ana Maria ratting him out to his buddies. Not even McCauley using him, or Enrapture truly using him. The first thing he thought of was he had it coming. Because he forgot. He forgot the rules of the streets.
Not long after he made it to San Francisco, and met up with Dr. Mayavale. Mayavale was a bit of a legend among the younger community in San Francisco, but that was a story for another day. “Joe”, as he now went by, complete with new restructured artificial face and all, was just bunking at Mayavale’s until he got back on his feet. Mayavale had lots of psychological prescriptions for Joe, to help him get over his issues, but Joe knew that wasn’t what he needed. As far as he was concerned, Surfer Jo and José Rimbaud were dead and gone, both with Joe’s old face and past. McCauley had screwed up who he was with the authorities so well that he had a fresh start.
Where to next? Ha...Rule #1 of the Streets: Never let them know what you’re thinking
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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Maziah’s head felt heavy almost bloated even. She kept trying to force her eyes open, but she felt so tired. Had she just heard a voice? No…no voice. Footsteps though. There were people around here. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide, as she remembered exactly what happened! She tried to scream—but her mouth was gagged. Some type of cloth duck-taped around her mouth. Her her hands were bound behind her back, as were her legs. She had been tied up tightly and neatly.
Her hands and mouth were rendered useless. Which meant she couldn’t cast her spells now. Some wizards, of course, did not need to use such tricks to focus their energies. The most powerful, like her father, need only think their spells to make them. She was not quite there yet, though all the mages who had ever laid eyes upon her knew this would not be the case for long. But she was still a young girl, no older than fourteen, and she had not developed her abilities quite that well. She was trapped. She felt unharmed and saw she was still in the same clothes as before, with a thick wool blanket over her, covering her lower body, as she was strewn about on the floor.
Mr. Latham! How could he? They trusted him! He seemed so caring…so nice. So fatherly. Maybe that’s why they all trusted him though. Her friends and she were a little short on fathers.
She looked around as the blurriness began to go away, and saw the people walking around were members of the Dark Circle. That had a specific look about them, and Maziah recognized it instantly now. Sometimes they wore their odd masks, with a purple “0” painted on the forehead, but most of the time they looked like normal people. Usually they were dressed in purple and black for some odd reason, whether business suits, military uniforms or some other odd reason. Generally she could spot them now. Except, of coruse, Marla Latham.
Her ears were picking up voices all over as the various Dark Circle members talked to one another. There had to be at least a dozen of them. Closer to eighteen actually. Twisting and turning, she could see Marla Latham not too far off. He was also dressed in a black military suit, with a purple vest, which in Maziah’s mind, made him look extremely odd. They were in some warehouse or factory, and it had a dank, rusty feel about it. She had no idea how long she was out. Marla Latham was talking to about five other Dark Circle members of various races. Within moments Maziah realized they must be the top ones here.
The Dark Circle. Who were they? What did they want with her? She listened as best she could…straining…but barely registering. She needed a push…she thought about her spells, about heightening her senses. Suddenly she inhaled the deep scent of rust, shocking her system, but then it quickly faded as the voices became more audible.
“---told you already Latham, we’re going to move her immediately. They want to see her and get her far away from the Dark Lord before he realizes our game. An agent just reported that he took her friends captive two days ago, so you know he’ll soon realize she’s missing. We have our one window of opportunity here. We need to get her across the Ocean to one of the American continents and soon.”
“I’ve told you,” said Marla, “you had better check with your superiors about that again. You know how they feel about her. This has been a top Dark Circle priority from the moment we learned of the daughters escaping from Zerox. She has her own plans for the daughters of Mordru. Best we don’t screw them up.”
The other Dark Circle captain seemed to hesitate. Finally he grinned. “You know as little as I do,” said the Captain with a smile. “We have no idea what they want with her.”
“Obviously, we can use her against Mordru,” said another Dark Circle member. “That must be it.” Ah, Maziah thought. So the Dark Circle are no friends of Mordru after all. Quite the opposite in fact.
“What about the other daughter?” asked Marla. “I assume they want her too.” Maziah suddenly felt panic hit her from every angle. Nura! They were talking about Nura! She must be in terrible danger too. She was scared to death of what was going to happen to her, seeing as these people hated her father so much, but the thought of something happening to her sister…it was awful…
“Right on, they do,” said the first Dark Circle Captain. “She’s just as important to their plans. They’ve got someone close to her now. But she’s surrounded by a bunch of super-powerful teenagers. Ha! Not an assignment I’d want to have!”
“None of our concern, really,” said the second Captain. “Let the American agents deal with that. You did well Latham,” he added. “You caught the daughter of the Dark Lord single-handedly when its taking an entire task force set up in Queens to get the weaker one.”
“Queens?” said Marla, curiously. His voice had gotten much lower suddenly and his facial expression changed. Maziah could see, her eyes letting her gaze at him in ways a normal person’s could not. Unaware that she had indeed cast a spell to heighten her senses, she could almost feel the change in attitude in Marla Latham. A sixth sense, one that predicts danger, had begun to emerge and it was pulsating now. Marla Latham was dropping his façade. “So they’re much closer than we thought…” said Marla slower.
The other Dark Circle Captains looked at each other puzzled. “None of our concern, like I said,” repeated the second Captain, realizing he had spoken out of turn.
Marla looked up and flashed them a smile, his face returning to what it was. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, still smiling. With dazzling quickness, he suddenly lifted his hand, revealing what looked similar to a gun clip, with a red button at the top. He pressed the button.
BOOM!
Suddenly an enormous explosion ripped across the area not far from Maziah! It blew back half-dozen Dark Circle members, most likely killing them all, as the fire immediately began to spread. Maziah covered her eyes and ducked for cover, but the explosion did not reach her, coming just short. She fell over, feeling the heat on her skin, and her eyes were right in the of sight between Marla Latham and the Captains.
Marla’s hand dropped to his belt holster and came back up at a speed she could not believe. He was in his late 50’s or early 60’s, yet he moved as fast as a teenager. No—faster. Faster than anyone she’d ever seen save Mon. He moved like Val. His 9’’ Beretta pistol was in his hand in half-seconds, and he aimed it at the first Captain, firing a round into his chest, then turning to the second and doing the same. He dived to his right, doing a summersault, turned around and hit all other four in the head before they could pull out their own guns.
He picked himself up, and ran towards Maziah.
Her heart was beating hard and she felt the gag and binds choking her and cutting off her blood flow more than ever. Marla pulled out a switch blade from his side pocket, and with a flick of the wrist, it was open. The way he moved so fast and determined, but yet so confident and nonchalantly gave her a terrifying feeling. Was he coming over to kill her? He suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her on her stomach. She wanted to scream. She was so scared…she was just a little girl still…
He cut the ropes binding her legs, freeing them, and as the blood rushed back to them, she felt a very sudden, piercing pain. Then her hands, and she realized she was free. She scrambled to get on her feet, but he grabbed her closer and pulled off the gag. She heard shots being fired. There were still Dark Circle soldiers all around them, now regaining their composure and realizing they had been fooled and attacked. The fire raged on hotter and hotter.
As the gag came off, she screamed a little, just wanting to get away from Marla. Gunshots rang out again.
“Maziah!” he screamed, but she looked away. “Maziah!!!” She tried to think of a spell…”Maziah!!! I’m not here to hurt you! I’m here to help you! I know you don’t trust me! But I need your help!”
She looked at him directly in the eyes, and shivered with fear. A gunshot rang out, just missing her head and Marla’s shoulder, and she saw it hit the wall in back of him. “I need your help,” he said again. She stared at him, and she could see he was equally as scared. She nodded, turning. Still shaking…she took in what she saw. She was terrified…but she was still the daughter of Mordru…she was still “The White Witch” as she was called when she was a child…and she could still protect herself without her father’s, or anyone’s, help…
A flickering white light sparkled within her hands, as Marla looked on. Thirty feet away, the remaining Dark Circle members scrambled for the best cover, to get the best angle for a killing shot. They were panicked now too, and that fear would drive them to even risk killing Mordru’s daughter. Because that was what they feared. They feared what they all had been told she could do. The flickering white light grew larger in her hands, and then began to grow smaller. Suddenly she pulled her arms back, so they were stretched backwards to the wall behind her, and then with a flash, clapped her hands together making a tremendous sound.
White light filled the room, with a huge thunderclap, so loud it shook the very foundations of the building. White light spread out in arc across the room. Suddenly, the fire went out. Each Dark Circle man still alive fell to the ground, knocked back by the sheer force of it, suddenly falling into a deep slumber.
Maziah fell backwards now, the spell draining her fully. It had taken a lot out of her, and she was already still exhausted, hurt and feeling the effects of the drugs. She leaned forward as nausea hit. Too powerful a spell to use yet…she over-extended herself. Marla caught her as her legs buckled. “I’ve got you,” he said now softly in his more fatherly voice. It was his regular voice after all, Maziah thought.
“You’ve done well, and I’ve got you.”
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
“You drugged me...” said Maziah, at last regaining her strength as she sat and looked up at Marla.
“I’m sorry for that, truly,” replied Marla, as he tied up the remaining Dark Circle members, all of whom were in a magic slumber and would not hear a thing. “But it served a variety of purposes, the most important being getting you away from your friends.”
“What?” she said, suddenly looking up. She suddenly remembered what the Dark Circle Captain had said about her friends being captured by her father (back before Mr. Latham killed him). “What do you mean? Has my father got them? Oh no…”
Marla looked up, finished tying up the Dark Circle members, and there was a trace of sadness in his eye. “I had no choice Maziah,” he said. “We can’t let your father get ahold of you again. If that occurs, that’s the end of it, there and then. Our one window of opportunity, for who knows how many hundreds of years, gone. I wouldn’t live to see another chance. If Mordru regains you, you’ll never leave Zerox again. And you aren’t ready to face him yet. None of us are.”
Maziah was confused, and suddenly angry. “So you drugged me? I don’t know what you’re even talking about. My friends are in trouble! Jacquie! Tatiana…all of them…”
“Blok is with them. We can only hope for the best. You all have shown you have a knack for escaping incredibly dangerous situations. Let’s hope it sticks. But probably the biggest chance they have of escaping is the fact that you aren’t with them. Otherwise he’d kill them all and be done with it, because he’d have what he really wants. You. Now he’ll need to use his trickery to get your location out of him. And from what I’ve heard, his tendency for cruel amusement may cause him to take his sweet time. That’s their only shot.” Marla now began looking around the room, seeing what was available. “We don’t have much time. We definitely need to leave soon, and I can get us out of here. I have a plane standing by. A little one. As you can see, my Dark Circle cover is blown…”
“So you were part of the Dark Circle?”
“Maziah,” replied Marla abruptly and looking directly into her eyes, “I have just blown fifteen years of work and cover. Fifteen years of infiltrating these slimy bastards so I could ensure your safety and find out as much as I could about your sister Nura and the danger she is in. It was worth it, I believe. So yes, in that sense, I am a member of the Dark Circle. But as you can see,” he added, pointing to the dead bodies of ten men, “I have never really been a member.”
Maziah was so confused. “But why--? I still don’t understand how you’re involved in all this…?”
Marla pushed some crates out of the way, and saw a stack of boxes and other crates, separate from everything else. “Ah.” He walked over. “These are what the Circle was able to get from all that McCauley mess…” he said to himself, “…there should be a few things here we need.”
“Who is ‘we’?!” said Maziah louder. Her patience was running thin.
“Do you know who RJ Brande is, Maziah?” asked Marla.
“The main who helped start the Legion? I think so…from what the Legionnaires told me.”
“He’s my employer. And he’s a good friend,” said Marla Latham firmly. “And I’m glad he’s finally let me drop this Dark Circle cover. I’ve been working for him for over twenty years. If there’s anyone alive who has the best interests of humanity in his heart, its RJ. He is the ‘we’, as I’m arrogant enough to count myself with him. I guess I *am* getting old…” he smiled to himself, pushing away some more boxes. At last he seemed to find what he was looking for: a very large crate, about six feet tall.
“Who are the Dark Circle?” asked Maziah. She wanted answers now.
“They are a secret organization that do not have humanity’s best interests at heart. They hate your father and consider themselves his enemies. They have a keen interest in you and your sister. However, where RJ and I think you can be of great value in the battle against your father, and now with the Legion’s creation, be a larger part of this new movement, I also believe the Dark Circle’s motives concerning you and your sister are much more sinister than simply that. They are complicated, and their an old organization and I don’t have time to explain it all. But I promise I will sometime soon. Here, come help me,” he said, as he took off his purple vest, looked at it in disgust, and tossed it to the side. He found a crowbar not far from where they were and walked over with it. “Hold the box. I know you’re still weak, but this will only take a minute. I assure you, when I was younger I was very strong and dashing and handsome.” He put the crowbar in and began opening it.
Maziah looked at him and felt relieved that her initial instincts were correct. There was no doubt he was super-intelligent, crafty, even slightly manipulative. But he was kind and he was a good man. She held the large crate for him.
“Aargh!” he said, putting his strength into it, and the crate opened. Inside was a statue with some dust on it. “This comes from the offices of Leland McCauley. Be glad you never met him,” said Marla. “The Dark Circle was able to get hold of some of his belongings after his recent ‘fall’. Too bad for poor Leland, but too good for the Dark Circle in my opinion. I’ll be glad to get this off their hands,” he said, wiping away the dust and pulling the statue out. “I think you’d agree too, old soldier,” he added, speaking to the statue.
Maziah examined it, and it seemed to be a statue of just a boy, albeit in a costume. Maziah had trouble telling if it was solid gold or bronze or a mixture of both. To be honest it was a very odd metal. It read: "CORPORAL RICHARD BARNES. BUCKY. A HERO TO THE END."
quote:Originally posted by Reboot: McCauley sat up and pressed a button on his wristwatch. Five seconds later, a lilac-skinned elven girl appeared.
He uttered the single word of command "Home," and closed his eyes as she threw a spear at him.
He felt a slight thump, and found himself on the chaise-longue in his anteroom. He stood, and walked through the corridors of his home until he reached the door to his garden, which he proceeded to walk through. He then walked through the immaculately-trimmed garden to one very special statue.
Few knew of the statue's true nature. Fewer still knew of it's location. He had first heard rumours of its existence some years before and spent a good deal of time, effort and money to acquire it, and he visited it often to relax.
The inscription read simply:
"CORPORAL RICHARD BARNES. BUCKY. A HERO TO THE END."
And what an end, eh, he thought - not for the first time, patting the statue's arm before turning away.
Marla looked at it for a long time. “At last,” he said with a smile. “I never missed reading a story or watching a show about you,” he softly spoke to himself. He turned to Maziah. “Maziah, you need to close your eyes, right now,” he said abruptly and it shocked her a little. Before she could answer he said, “Just do it. Try to trust me, please,” he said, knowing he didn’t deserve that trust right now. “Do you feel it?” he asked. She didn’t reply, unsure of what he meant. “Do you feel it?” he said again, this time slower.
“…” she remained silent. “Yes,” she at last replied. “Magic. I do feel the magic here. Something is wrong with this statue.” Marla was quiet now. “Its not a statue at all, is it?”
“No. No, its not.”
“It’s a boy. A little older than me, but still just a boy. Frozen in solid metal. Gold, perhaps. Something unnatural.”
“Correct. Can you--?”
She was quiet. “Yes,” she said at last, and began to concentrate. She focused and tried to understand the nature of the spell that did this.
“Both of you stop what you’re doing right now,” a voice said. It was terse and stern. But it was a young girl’s voice. “I want to know where a young winged girl named Calantha is, and I want to know right now. I tracked her all the way here.” And so the girl named Dawnstar arrived.
[ March 11, 2008, 07:54 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
“I don’t know who you are, or what it is you’re doing, but stop it,” said Dawnstar. She had traveled across the entire ocean to get here and was completely exhausted. Yet she had done so showing incredible courage and strength. But now that she was face to face with these two people, the sixteen year old girl within her began to emerge. She was really scared.
Surely her father hadn’t intended her to go this far. But she wanted to surprise him. She didn’t want to return empty handed and let him down. So she continued on, traveling farther than she had ever thought in her life, to the country known Austria.
“Where is Calantha?” she asked again, this time even more fierce, but her voice was still shaky. She was prepared to move quickly and fight if she had to, but suddenly she wished she had a weapon.
“My dear,” said Marla sadly, “I was hoping to find her here, but I could not. She’s not here any longer. The Dark Circle has taken her somewhere else. I’m sorry,” he added.
“I-I tracked her here!” she yelled back. “You’re a liar!” She immediately used her tracking powers to find the trail once more. Almost immediately, she found he was right. She was here, indeed. But she had moved on since. Her trek across the Atlantic Ocean had exhausted her beyond all measure. She had gotten sloppy as she approached and did not pick it up. The trail was actually a few days cold. “No…” she said, and exhaustion began to set in. Despite herself, tears flooded to her eyes, but she forced them back.
Marla walked forward. “I looked for her,” he said softly, his stomach heavy out of pity for the young girl. She had the spirit of a warrior—and Marla would know—but she felt like an utter failure right now. “And I’ll keep looking,” he added.
She looked up. “Who are you?” she asked. Then turning to Maziah. “And you? Who are you?”
Maziah smiled slightly, pulling her robed dress more tightly around herself. She sighed softly. “I’m tired too,” she Maziah replied.
----------------------------------
An hour later, introductions had been made and stories told. Marla kept a close eye on the Dark Circle members, but they did not stir once. They were in a deep slumber via magic—they wouldn’t overhear a thing. Still, time grew short. The Dark Lord would be looking again soon.
Maziah sat with Dawnstar some more. The winged Native American girl had regained her composure and both girls looked more at ease now that someone their own age was with them again.
“When they came into possession of McCauley’s “items”, I knew they picked up the winged girl and Bucky here. Yet another bird to kill with this stone, Maziah,” Marla added. “I’ promise I’ll keep searching for Calantha. But we need to move now, and quickly. There’s no way we’ll get this statue to my little plane. You’ll need to work your magic, Maziah.”
“I never believed in magic,” said Dawnstar, now that she heard a good summary of Maziah’s story.
“You will soon enough,” said Maziah. She began to concentrate on the statue of Bucky.
Less than ten minutes later, the young soldier known as Bucky began to thaw, as the metal dissipated as if it was water. Soon, his flesh could be made out, though he was still. All three watched earnestly for any signs of life. At last, still unconscious, the figure known as Bucky sucked in air, replenishing his lungs for the first time in decades. The magic spell was broken.
“Bucky lives again…” said Marla.
[ March 12, 2008, 08:27 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Marla Latham smiled and handed Maziah a cup of tea, while giving Dawnstar a cup of coffee. Both thanked him and he smiled, preferring coffee today, though he was a steady drinker of both. He’d tried both practically all over the world at one point or another after all.
“How’s he holding up?” asked Maziah, pointing over at Bucky, who was looking out the window. Bucky had returned to the living half a day earlier and had said very little. It was all still too new, too hard to imagine for him. In a way, he reminded Maziah of Mon now. He was a man out of time, in a world that in his mind, had probably gone crazy.
“He’s adjusting. He will be for awhile. I’m taking him back with me, with the Others.”
“Others?”
“You’ll meet them very shortly,” he replied. “They’re on their way now.”
“You must have a lot of money to afford this hotel room,” said Dawnstar, looking around. They were in an opulent suite at one of the fanciest hotels in Budapest. What the young girls did not know was Marla had stayed her many times before and the hotel gave him a strict ‘don’t ask questions’ attitude to his odd comings and goings and occasional guests. He was comfortable here, at this centuries old hotel.
“I do,” he smiled. “And this is my last stop before I head back to the United States, so I don’t mind enjoying some comfort before the long flight. My work here, though never done, accomplished a great deal.”
Maziah seemed troubled by this. “Where are you going, Mr. Latham? What about…all my friends? And everything that’s going? Its all still so confusing. I don’t know what to do next.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” said Marla, half-smiling. “Ah, our guests are here.”
“Maziah!” a voice yelled suddenly. She turned, as Bucky jumped in surprise and prepared to fight and Dawnstar rose. It was Baksheesh, the young boy in India known as Kid Psycho. They had been terribly worried about him ever since they were forced to leave earlier. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“I’m glad to see you too,” she smiled, hugging him. He was only about 11 years old. She looked to see the others with him: a blue-firred teen who looked like a demon, who she immediately recognized from Tatiana’s story: Nightcrawler, Kurt Wagner. A young African girl no older than Baksheesh whom she did not know, who Marla introduced as Ivy. And at last, a woman and another young boy, both Korean, who she barely knew, but could recognize instantly. Her heart sank and she suddenly missed her friend so much. Just so she could tell him that his mother and his brother were okay. Without a doubt, this was Sun and Renkil Kem. She walked over, a tear falling down her cheek and hugged the mother. She hugged her back, and all she thought of was her son
“How is Ten Zil?” she said in Korean, but Maziah’s spell was still active and she understood. Sun Kem was a Korean-American Nurse who had come back to the country of her parents and married Ten Zil's father.
“He missed you so much.”
Sun sniffed as tears fell down her cheeks. “I’m so glad he’s alright,” she said at last, “I was so worried…”
Marla Latham smiled and then spoke in flawless Korean: “I told you Sun He’s fine, and he’s with friends.”
“Are you going with Mr. Latham?” asked Maziah.
“Yes,” she replied. “Renkil and I were in great danger until Marla came along and rescued us. We have nothing left in Korea now that my husband is not with us anymore. So we are going with Marla to the United States.”
“We all are!” said Baksheesh.
“Where in the United States?” asked Dawnstar, surprised at all these people. “Where could you go? To the Legion?”
“Not the Legion,” said Marla smiling, “though RJ Brande is making sure we’ll be alright. We’re going to San Francisco to an old friend out there named Mayavale. Think of it as…an Outpost. These children,” he said, pointing at Renkil Kem, Ivy and Baksheesh, all of whom were not yet teenagers, “are far too young to be caught in the war with Mordru. Yet, because of what they can do, they already have. But I’ll take them somewhere safe.”
“I vil go with him,” said Nightcrawler attempting to speak English, “and maybe I too will become more comfortable…with my appearance…” he finished, looking into a mirror in the room.
“There’s a place for all of you,” said Marla, now looking past Nightcrawler towards Bucky, who turned around.
Bucky said nothing still. He was dressed in the same military costume he had on in World War II when his accident occurred. He pushed thoughts of the accident out of his mind. “I’ll go, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Bucky. “The war is over, I guess. There’s no reason for me to be here anymore. I want to go back to the United States.”
“Fair enough,” said Marla.
“So you’re bringing everyone to the U.S.,” said Maziah.
“San Francisco.”
“I wish I could go with you,” she said at last. “But I can’t.”
“I know you can’t,” said Marla with a sigh. “But I want you to know Maziah, that you have allies. Friends even. There are people who will aid you in your battle against the Dark Lord. I couldn’t let you meet him yet, but the day will come when you must. And when it does, I’ll be waiting to join you, and so will others. I have many things to attend to,” he smiled, nodding towards everyone else, “but we’ll meet again soon enough. When you meet your friends again, you can tell Ten Zil his mother and brother are safe. And some other friends along the way will be with friends in our little Outpost. Hopefully you’ll drop by sometime.”
Maziah looked down. She tried to smile, but she was saddened by this.
“You won’t be alone,” said a female voice, coming towards her. It was Dawnstar. Maziah was surprised. “I know we’ve only just met and I barely understand who you are or what you’re doing. But I can’t help but feel I met you for a reason. Like destiny brought us together. Maybe by sticking with you, I’ll find Calantha. If not, I don’t want to have flown across the planet for no reason, only to meet a new friend, however briefly, and then abandon her when she needs me.”
“Dawnstar, you don’t have to—“
“I can help you find your friends. I can track them. I can at least do that for you before I return. It’s what I do best, so I’ll gladly help.”
Maziah smiled. “Okay. I accept your help.”
“Maziah, Dawnstar,” said Marla, “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Ivy,” he said, pushing forward a timid African girl. “She’s from Nigeria, and she’s very special too.”
“Hello,” said Ivy, as Maziah’s spell worked its magic over language. “I can talk to the plants,” she said. “Marla wanted me to tell you I can talk to the plants.”
Maziah smiled. “That’s wonderful.”
“Are you the White Witch?” she asked now.
Maziah was shocked suddenly. “How do you know that name?”
“He told me. He told me to give you a message. Are you the White Witch?”
“I…I am,” she said, nervously. “Who told you?”
“Blok did,” she smiled. “Blok always tells me things. I talk to him all the time. He is the plant’s older brother. I like Blok.”
Relief hit Maziah like a bucket of cold water. “I do too,” she said smiling, then quickly adding, “where is he, Ivy? Where is Blok? What do you have to tell me?”
“Blok says he needs you. He needs you to go to him now. He’s in danger…they all are…he says your father is…is…I don’t understand the word. Mobeling?” she asked Marla.
“Mobilizing,” said Marla, suddenly grim. “Mordru is mobilizing…” he said softly to himself.
---------------------------
“There they go,” said Dawnstar, as she and Maziah watched a plane take off from Budapest International Airport, making its way towards the United States, with Marla Latham, Sun and Renkil Kem, Baksheesh, Ivy, Bucky and Nightcrawler all on board via the political pull of Marla Latham and RJ Brande.
They were quiet. They were two (16) year old girls, with what felt like the entire world poised against them.
“Are you ready,” said Dawnstar, looking for the trail through her tracking power. They prepared themselves to leave, with Dawnstar holding her friend who magically made herself weightless and gave Dawnstar added magical endurance.
Maziah hesitated. “Yes.”
[ March 12, 2008, 08:28 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Khundia was not a large country, but it had a long history. On the northeastern part of Africa, once included in the Mediterranean Ancient World but now seen as largely a part of the Middle East by the international community at large, Khundia still was very much a mystery to the rest of the world. Largely a desert area with pockets of hospitable villages, the majority of Khundia culture, politics and business took place in the capital city, which was built on a lush oasis that proved to be very fertile and very beautiful. It was here that Spirit watched the sunset, providing an exotic view of the lush oasis city and its historic buildings and monuments, while stretching far enough into the distance to capture the desert in the rich reddish-orange color of the sunset. Spirit had never seen a dessert before and did not ever consider it could be as pretty as it was at that very instant.
Their arrival to Khundia was not easy and not without clamor. After all, the Khundians had been alerted to their coming. But through Jacquie’s illusion powers, Tatiana’s darkness and Mon’s super-fast flying skills, they arrived in relative safety and quiet, far ahead of the plane, which was subsequently blown completely out of the sky by a Khundian missile. She knew the normal rank and file Khundian military soldiers assumed them to all have been killed (and she could not believe at just how many of them there were). But she also suspected, and was really quite sure, that the higher ranking Khundian Officers, and certainly their General, Zaryan, knew they were not so easily destroyed. Ipso facto, Mordru knew quite well they were alive. But thinking non-stop about the Dark Lord did no good, as these past few days had taught her, so she pushed him out of her head.
Since meeting her new friends, they had been moving at such a fast pace that she scarcely had time to breath. Life hadn’t exactly slowed down but she’d had more than ample time to process everything and losing Vi and Condo had augmented that feeling greatly. As she had a few moments to herself now, she suddenly couldn’t escape the feeling of loneliness that had taken over her. She was lonely. She missed her friends in the Legion, particularly Lorna, Cos, Irma and Garth. They had been the earliest Legionnaires and had stayed very tight from the get-go. She suddenly felt very guilty leaving in the way she did and then not returning. She knew they probably felt a little hurt by it, and she regretted that. But her decision to go and then stay was one she thought was the right thing to do. She felt she really could help and contribute in stopping the major problem that was Mordru. All she ever wanted to do was some good, and to contribute something to the greater good. She wanted to help…and in the big picture, didn’t that mean something? She hoped they understood that. Both her friends in the Legion and her new friends here.
Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t fitting in, and that was a feeling she’d never had before in her entire life. Being popular had never been a problem for her. The opposite in fact; often, she was what someone might call the ‘most popular girl in school’. Lorna would laugh and say she took over that role in the Legion pretty quickly. But now she was worried these new kids might resent her for that. Certainly, her and Tatiana had gotten off on the wrong foot. Was there an attraction to Mon-El that she felt? Sure. But she hadn’t know about the obvious feelings Tatiana and Mon were developing for each other, and she backed off from that right away.
She sighed. Come Tina, get it together. You didn’t stick around here to be Ms. Popularity: European Legion Division. You stuck around because you thought the Legion needed a role in this battle against Mordru.
She missed her friends though. A lot.
-----------------------
Spirit floated down to the abandoned bunker below to see Valor teaching Dirk and Tenz some more fighting moves. In the corner of the room, Hasim watched quietly, not joining in or saying a word, and in the opposite corner, Jacquie looked through the file Spirit had found in Siberia, at the Dark Circle gulag.
Val nailed Dirk fist with a slap of his hands, knocking him off balance and making him fall forward. Hasim let out a loud laugh, just loud enough to annoy Dirk. Tina pretended not to see, so Dirk wouldn’t be embarrassed. Dirk got up, looking frustrated. He put his hand up to hold Val off, who came over to make sure hew as okay.
“You okay, Dirk?” asked Tenz.
Dirk was quiet for a second. “Perhaps that is enough for today,” said Val.
“We need to figure out some way to get in touch with our parents,” said Dirk finally. “Prepaid cell phones are a good idea, but you can’t find them in Khundia. I need to let my Dad know where I am,” he said. Dirk was uncharacteristically frustrated and distracted. Tenz didn’t blame him. They had been here for a few days now, living out of this abandoned bunker and stealthily searching for information and clues to anything on Mordru they could find. They had little success—after all, they hardly knew what they were looking for.
“We talked about this Dirk,” said Jacquie. “Once we leave Khundia that will be our first priority. But while we’re here, there’s really nothing we can do.”
“I know Jacq. But what are we doing here? We’re in a foreign country with a genuine military dictatorship. With a real war criminal calling the shots and soldiers everywhere we look. You and Tina go out at night and do whatever it is you do, while the rest of us stay in here hauled up day after day doing nothing. What is the point of us being here?” His voice was becoming louder and sharper. Jacquie had viewed Dirk as probably her closest friend of the group besides the telepathic circle of friends she’d had all her life, and his tone of voice stung. She couldn’t help it, but her facial expression showed she was taken aback. Perhaps because she had no real answer to him?
“Dirk…” said Tenz, sensing the tension rising and trying to stop it.
“Forget it,” Dirk replied. “Look, I’m just tired. I’m going to go for a walk…”
“Do you want me to come with you?” asked Spirit, since they had created a rule that Jacquie, Tatiana or Spirit should accompany anyone going outside because their powers could be useful. The minute she asked it, she knew it was a bad idea.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” he said firmly, and walked outside.
Jacquie throw the file to her side, now also sharing Dirk’s mood. They all were quiet now, but the silence had a heavy feeling to it. Val sat next to Jacquie, pointing to the file. “Getting up to speed on our little mystery?” he said, changing the topic.
Jacquie shrugged. “Trying. It doesn’t make much sense.”
“What has these past few weeks? Months even? The world is a different place in the last year.”
“That’s for sure,” she replied, now half-smiling. “I keep rereading the lines about Mordru putting a spell on all of humanity that stunted the evolutionary growth of mankind for centuries. The concept is just too large to comprehend.”
Spirit joined them. “The breaking of the spell is just as odd.” They looked at her, unsure of where she was going with it. “Obviously, it was broken, right? That’s why we’re all here with our powers. “So what broke it? It says this Dark Circle group, and some other group known as the Dominion (apparently based out of South America) worked together for years trying to break the spell and succeeded somehow, around 25 years ago. Or at least started working together 25 years ago. I would assume it took them some time to do it, so the spell itself would be broken a few years after…”
“At least you have some experience with magic,” said Tenz to Tina. “You’re used to it as a concept. I never really believed in it. That is, until Mordru grew 30 feet before my eyes and a demon from actual hell (which I guess really exists) attacked us.”
They were quiet now. Jacquie sighed now loudly. “Oh, what are we doing here?” she said out loud. “What is Mordru trying to accomplish with Khundia?”
“Only one way to find out,” said Spirit. Jacquie nodded. Once more, they prepared to snoop around the city.
[ March 11, 2008, 06:14 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“Dad,” Dirk said enthusiastically into the phone, “you’re not going to believe this! I’m in London! London! Its so cool! They want me to do this new show. Some fashion guy wants me to the lead boy in the runway. They said they’ve never had a lead male model that was this young before. Can you believe it?”
“That’s really great Dirk,” said Dick Morgna into the phone. “I’m glad you’re having fun it. But honestly son, I have to go. I’ve got work to do. Enjoy all that model stuff.”
“Okay, sure Dad. I’ll try to call you again tomorrow—“
“Tomorrow won’t work Dirk. Why don’t I just call you. I’ll be traveling all day tomorrow, and then meetings all day Tuesday. I’ll call you.”
“Oh, okay Dad. How will you know where I’ll be?”
“Dirk, I’ve got to go, okay? I’ll figure it out. Gigi will take care of it. Look, gotta run. Bye.” Click.
“Okay dad,” Dirk said into the phone, not having the heart to look up at the people surrounding him in his room, waiting for him to get off the phone and get back to work. “Bye…” he said, holding back the tears.
Half a world away, Dick Morgna poured himself yet another scotch and drank in his office with the lights off. Talking to Dirk was the hardest part of his week. He didn’t think he could keep doing it.
Dirk quietly ducked into an alleyway, doing his best to stay in the shadows. He was wearing the discarded military uniform of a Khundian soldier, which was black and dark blue colored, including boots, pants, a shirt, a vest, a jacket and beret. Still, he stuck out like a sore thumb with his pale skin. Most Khundians had skin color closer to Egyptians than anything and Dirk was half-Czech/half-American (re: WASP). Mainly, he wanted to just get some air, not spend time playing spy games.
He knew hew as being a little unreasonable and juvenile but honestly, didn’t he deserve to be a little? Didn’t they all? What the hell were they doing here? Yes, he knew the danger the entire world was facing (which was still too much for any of them to wrap their heads around), but at the end of the day, he was still a fifteen year old kid in a group of kids of similar ages, discounting the 18 year old warrior of 2,000 years ago and the rock-monster made out of the Earth. Truth to be told, it was getting to him. Traveling around the world from place to the next? He’d been doing that already these past three years. Being with this group of kids? It was an incredible experience and he was loving every second of it. But it was the weirdness. Everything being so far from normal.
“Be patient Dirk Morgna,” said a voice, as Blok rose from the dirt near Dirk, making him difficult to see in the shadows, though still gigantic to Dirk’s trained eye. It was Blok’s ability to rip forth from the Earth, using the area he came from as an extended shell of himself that they found unnerving. As if each time he re-entered the Earth, his body was left behind as an empty shell, and when he reformed, he created a new one from whatever was available there. Perhaps that was what was happening, Dirk thought. It was still slightly unnerving though they came to trust Blok.
“I know Blok,” said Dirk softly. “It’s just…I wonder, is anyone even looking for us? What if we’re killed here, in Khundia? Will anyone ever know? Spirit and Valor’s Legion buddies would come looking for us. But what about the rest of us?”
“I understand,” said Blok calmly. “Its natural to consider who may be considering you.”
Dirk laughed a little at how Blok had phrased that. “I tried to call him, you know,” he said at last. “I called him when we were in Austria. My dad. I wanted to let him know where I was. I couldn’t get a hold of him. His assistant said he was busy. Too busy to take my call, even though I hadn’t talked to him in weeks. Months now, actually. When I told her that they didn’t need to worry anymore, she told me they didn’t know there had been reason to worry in the first place.”
Blok said nothing.
“Not only did he not know all that I’d gone through, he speaks to me so little that he didn’t realize anything was out of the ordinary.” Dirk looked away, more annoyed at himself than anything. “I have nothing to complain about really. Jacquie and Tenz’s dads are dead. Maziah’s is the evil Dark Lord. I don’t even know anything about Val, Hasim or Spirit’s. At least I still have mine.”
“You talk to me as if you’re trying to convince yourself of something Dirk,” said Blok.
Dirk was silent. He understood Blok was right. “He just stopped caring after the accident. I remind him of failure or something. Honestly, Bruce Wayne is almost my Dad now…he’s the one who supports me and makes sure I’m okay. Or at least, the girl Gigi who works for him does. The one person in my life who cares about me, and I’ve never even met her face to face. I shouldn’t have even bothered to call my dad. I should have just called her. I could have gotten us phones or ipods or something.”
“Dirk,” said Blok now, in a much sterner voice. “All of my many years I have seen a recurring theme in your kind. You have a family you are born with and sometimes that is more than enough. But there is also the family you create. Only you have the choice in how define what a family is.”
“I wish there were Legionnaires here!” he suddenly heard a voice yell. Panicking, he realized he wasn’t exactly being invisible. As panic set in, his power began to work on his own, and he realized he was starting to give off extra light. Quickly, he took control of himself.
“What was that?” he heard another voice say. The voice was young—his age. They were looking in his direction. “It looked like a light,” said the voice again. This particular voice sounded very young.
“Stop being scared of the dark, coward,” said another deeper, gruffer voice. “Little Flederweb gets terrified late at night,” it now said with deep laugh.
“Leave him alone Blood Claw,” said a female voice now. There was anger in it.
Suddenly, the very large figure known as Blood Claw leapt at the only female, as they all came into view. Blood Claw back-handed her, aiming for her face, but hitting her in the shoulder and knocking her over. “Don’t you ever dare speak to me again in such a tone, female. You and the spider are both lucky we tolerate your presence.”
“Enough Blood Claw,” said the one who first spoke about the Legionnaires. He, apparently, was their leader. “Veilmist and Flederweb are not worth your anger. Save it for the Legionnaires. Zaryan doesn’t believe they were killed and neither do I. I hope we find them. Then they can see Khundia has its own Legion of Super-Heroes.”
Flederweb helped Veilmist up from the ground, and the two tried to keep some distance between the other two. Once again, Dirk was thankful that Maziah’s spell was as strong as ever and he could understand them. He followed them from a distance and watched what this ‘Khundian Legion’ was up to. They were his age, with perhaps their leader, whom Dirk later learned to be Firefist, being about 18, which was Mon-El’s age. Both Firefist and Bloodclaw were hailed as prodigies by the rank and file Khundian soldiers, but he could see Flederweb and Veilmist were treated with contempt. Firefirst had a dangerous look about, and his eagerness to meet them, whether he mistook them for Legionnaires or not, worried him. Blood Claw was larger and equally as dangerous looking, though Dirk hated him instantly on sight. Another large bully, though he could tell the boy was terrified of Firefist in his own right. Flederweb was the smallest of them all, and had an awkward way about him. Blood Claw had called him ‘spider’, so Dirk began to notice that Flederweb did, indeed, have many spider-like qualities. But something in the way he moved suggested to Dirk the boy was both terrified of his surroundings and being forced against his will to be part of this group. Just like the girl, Veilmist. Veilmist was largely covered in a pretty pink robe with a hood, but it was not a burka. She was beautiful, with dark black hair, but she was covering up most of her features. Undoubtedly, Dirk thought, because this city seemed largely to have men all over with few women on the streets. They did not seem to treat her well. Not well at all.
“They too have abilities,” said Blok. “I can sense it in them. Like you, they also have been put in the midst of a larger political game, as various entities try to use them as pawns in a larger war.”
Dirk followed them farther, though Blok stood where he was. Dirk turned back to him. “Who are they?” he asked.
“You know as much as I,” said Blok.
“The girl, and the smaller one. Veilmist and Flederweb. They’re different. They’re being treated differently. You can see it in the body language of the other two. And the soldiers on the street. Why, you think?”
“You know why, Dirk,” Blok now replied.
“They’re born different. One because of his race and the other because she’s a girl. Born different…”
“Its where they’re going Dirk that matters. Not where they are from…” said Blok, and Dirk ignored the comment. He followed them now, moving farther than Blok, to see Flederweb moving off on his own, crawling up the side of a building like a spider, which Dirk found entirely odd. Firefist and Blood Claw seemed to making some motions towards Veilmist, but she pushed Firefist back and suddenly disappeared in a flash.
“Teleporter…” he whispered to himself, and he could see the other two were angry.
“You’ll be mine soon,” said Blood Claw with a loud laugh.
Dirk saw a flash above, as Veilmist appeared in her room. This must be where they stayed. Dirk couldn’t help but feel something…alluring about her. He’d always had a thing for the ladies…and suddenly thinking about a girl seemed to take his mind off his father, as it always did in the past. He moved closer to the building, and thought suddenly he was making a bad decision. Then he smiled at himself. And proceeded anyway.
He moved into a staircase to see some others in a kitchen down the hall. This was a living quarters for soldiers, but with the Khundian Legionnaires in the top floors. Great, he thought. His powers were not suited for stealth. Still, as luck would have it, no one happened to be around to see him.
Down below, Blok allowed this to proceed without a word for or against it. Things must happen in their own way.
At last Dirk got to her floor, and knew which room was hers. He moved to her door and saw it was cracked open. All their doors were. They must not be allowed to shut them. They’re too much a liability. Inside, he could hear her. She was crying. Softly, but he could make it out. Life must be hard on a young girl here, Dirk thought, but tried to clear the horrible image that followed in his head.
What was he doing? Something. Anything. He pushed open the door. Suddenly she turned, and pulled a knife out of a holster on her leg he hadn’t seen, pointing it towards him. She moved lightning-fast.
“Veilmist?” he said softly, walking in quietly and then shutting the door behind him. “Something tells me you hate it here just as much as I do,” he finished.
She looked at him sharply, thinking of a thousand options of where to go. But at last curiosity overtook her. Dirk read her right after all.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
Spirit’s power to phase through walls, which she had been accustomed to almost her entire life, gave her an underlying confidence in everything she did. It wasn’t so much the idea that she believed she couldn’t be harmed, though certainly that was part of it. Rather, it was idea of accessability that excited her. There was no where she could not go if she set her mind to it. Princess Jacqueline’s illusion powers, which also allowed her to comprehend truths, also gave her a similar confidence. As the two girls now worked together, as they had each night for the past two days, they enjoyed the comfort their quiet camaraderie was bringing. Both their powers based in magic, both their skills based in stealth and subtly. Jacquie used her illusion powers to mask her presence as she moved through the city and into military buildings, and Tina was always just ahead of her, phasing into walls, doing her best to stay unseen. Occasionally Tina would smile back at her, a quiet understanding between them.
“Well, I think we’ve found it,” said Tina. “The headquarters and offices of Zaryan the Conqueror”, she finished, saying the last part of Zaryan’s moniker with a slightly humorous deep voice.
“I think so too,” replied Jacquie. “From what I understand, as much as the United States and United Kingdom loathe and fear the man, the other countries here in North Africa and the Middle East hate him much worse. He’s a psychopath on a power trip with no qualms about putting entire countries at war.”
“Makes you wonder if the Legion shouldn’t be involved in matters like this,” said Tina, “or if maybe it’s something we have a duty to be involved in? Besides a wealthy group at the top, Khundia is largely impoverished. Women have almost no rights. The state controls all property. Violence is an everyday occurrence…”
“So you’re political, Tina?” smiled Jacquie.
“Must be a family thing,” Tina sighed. “But the big question is, before we head in, what’s going on with you and Val?”
Jacquie suddenly blushed a shade of crimson. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, c’mon Jacquie!” she started to get louder but then kept her voice to a whisper, “its obvious there’s some type of ‘thing’ going on there. At first I wasn’t sure if you were with Dirk, or Hasim, or no one, but well…now, it certainly looks like you like Val. He sure likes you.”
“He told you that?”
Tina giggled. “I don’t think Val would ever tell anyone anything like that. But I’m a girl who knows these things.”
“Well Dirk is my friend. He needs a nice girl though. If you’re interested.” Tina giggled again. “Hasim…I don’t know what to think of Hasim. I’ve never met anyone like him. So dark…sometimes I think he gets a bad rap among us. Sometimes I think not.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Val? Well, the whole ultimate fighter thing is pretty sexy. Don’t tell anyone I said that of course.”
“Of course. A Princess couldn’t think such a thing was anything less than primitive.”
“Of course,” laughed Jacquie. “Now, do you always gossip like this just before we enter the personal office of a mass murderer/dictator?”
“Yeah, usually,” Tina giggled again.
They moved through the building, seeing various soldiers and doing their best to stay hidden. Khundia had no short supply of soldiers. How could they not? There was a permanent draft in place and it was the only way for a young man to get any type of start in Khundia. Business was run by the state with profits allocated to the state. Even if you were successful, it’d all be taken from you.
“We understand what Mordru is trying to do with Khundia,” said Jacquie to Tina. “Dirk knows that and thinks its enough. He’s creating fear and anxiety in the whole world by creating this Khundian Menace. Both figuratively, in the minds of the western world, and literally, here with his supply of weapons, money and magic. Does Khundia really have a chance at hurting the U.S., or Europe even? Not really, no. But with Mordru backing them they may. But knowing that isn’t enough. We need to know what exactly Mordru has planned for Khundia. If he’s trying to get the U.N. to invade, he can be stopped diplomatically easy enough. If he’s trying to actually start World War III then we better find out how.”
“The war room is up ahead,” said Tina, phasing forward and then coming back. “I better not risk going in there again, or I’ll be seen. Wait until see Zaryan. He looks terrifying.”
“I’ll put an illusion over both of us,” said Jacquie. “You know Tina,” she added. “I’m starting to think it was a poor idea to let your friends go home so easily. We simply parted ways and that was that, though I’m very glad you and Val decided to stay.”
“I bet,” smiled Tina.
“No, honestly,” said Jacquie smiling back. “You’ve been a great help and well, it feels good to have a real Legionnaire with us. But this war with Mordru…its more than just a battle between Blok, Maziah, Mon and a few others against the ages old Dark Lord. The entire world is in danger. Perhaps the entire world should be gearing up to fight? Maybe we should have had Condo and Vi return with the intention of rallying the Legion?”
“Trust me, rallying the Legion is a lot harder than you think,” said Tina. “Cos is a great leader and without him I don’t know what we’d do. But our other leader, Gene, sees the Legion as something completely different than what it is. Which doesn’t really matter anyway, because in order for the Legion to go on missions, there is such a hassle in getting things done. Cos is under such a huge strain, and that’s even with RJ Brande and General Secretary Chu adding their political support. I don’t even know if Chu fully supports us actually. I know we have to cut through all this U.N. red tape, and then there’s the United States wanting to approve our every action because we’re on U.S. soil…”
Jacquie could see it was something Tina, and most likely the other Legionnaires, had been bothered by for quite some time. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” she said quietly. “Sounds like political hell. But it could be done…you just need the right people on your side…” Jacquie was thinking. “Of course, finding out who those people are could take some time…”
“Rallying the Legion will definitely take some time. Convincing the U.N. that there is an ages old Dark Lord in the Middle East, of all places, and we should send the entire Legion of Super-Heroes, plus some other super-powered non-registered teenagers out to meet him will take an eternity.”
“Not if Mordru strikes first, of course,” Jacq replied. Tina was quiet at that. “We better see if that is going to be the case…”
------------------------------------
Jacquie waited until the door opened and they stumbled in after via her illusions, Tina still phased with her powers though, which gave her some comfort. At last, they saw him, Zaryan the Conqueror. A General in the Khundian Military, he had come into power via a military coup twelve years earlier. Khundia has many religious issues, with a vast majority of its population split between Sunni and Sh’ite Muslims, but Zaryan had decreed that religion would play no part in the state. This angered not only the Khundian people and clergy, but the entire region at large. Zaryan didn’t care. He gladly welcomed the chance to invade, bomb and kill his neighbors. According to the internet, and even some more extreme American new stations, Zaryan believed he was the reincarnated conqueror of ages past, Ghengis Khan. Another rumor suggested he personally took part in executions of political prisoners. Whatever the case, Tina and Jacquie found themselves very afraid of the man, and no less so when they laid eyes on him and saw he was a tall, older man in his fifties, with salt & pepper colored beard and hair. His beard was thick but not long, and he wore a military uniform. He did not smile. No one smiled while near Zaryan.
Jacquie noticed they were all quiet, and suddenly was worried it because they knew Tina and her were in the room. Relieved, she saw there were others entering.
“Our ally to the east sends his ambassador?” Zaryan said, and his voice was surprisingly normal toned.
“Yes General,” said a soldier. “May I present Dev-Em, of Zerox,” he finished.
And as Dev-Em entered the room, healthy once more, in a blue pin-stripped business suit as nonchalant as could be, Tina and Jacquie began to silently panic. Could he hear them through Jacquie’s illusion? He should not be able to. But his hearing…
“The Lord Mordru sends his greetings,” said Dev-Em, “and is pleased by your progress. Your efficiency is well-noted General Zaryan. The things they say about you seem to be correct.”
“Mordru knows this,” said Zaryan, “otherwise this long-standing partnership would have since dissolved. You can skip the pleasantries ageless one. I take no joy in your presence. What I want, is to know when we can speed up our timetable.”
“Things are moving exactly as planned,” said Dev-Em. “There’s no need to rush them.” The other soldiers in the room all looked to Zaryan to do their speaking, even his top advisors. There was a sense none really liked Dev-Em.
“You’re wrong. A U.N. delegation left here two weeks ago. The ambassador from Sri Lanka told me I was full of empty threats. I plan to make her pay for that.”
Dev-Em grinned slightly, enjoying Zaryan’s outrage over the perceived insult. “What would you have us do then? Mordru’s forces are mobilizing, as you are aware. The deathless army left Zerox over a month ago, and is only now just arriving at its destination.”
“From what I understand,” said Zaryan, “this ‘deathless army’ has no match and should be able to mobilize faster than any other army before it. Why has it taken so long?”
Dev-Em stopped smiling now. “Perhaps you don’t fully understand the scope of what is being accomplished, General,” he said, the word General spoken in a sarcastic way that caused the other soldiers to shuffle their stance. “A large army has entered another hemisphere, on the very doorstep of the United States, and not one nation in the world other than you knows anything about it. Accomplishing that is an extraordinary feat, and will take some time. As you know already, the army can only move at night.”
“I had forgotten,” said Zaryan. Tina and Jacquie at last could see that Zaryan, while obviously informed of the power of Mordru, had some real doubts over it. He understood military power, but had trouble grasping magic. Yet he was proceeding forward with Mordru anyway, Jacquie noted, obviously for his own reasons.
“Our other allies are prepared. They’ll follow our lead anyway, and Mordru has his agents in their governments already. North Korea, Venezuela—“
“When the time comes,” said Zaryan, “we will take Sicily first. Historically, it would make sense.” Dev-Em shook his head and laughed. Tina could see he was sizing up Zaryan and saw him the way she did: a simple man. Conquering Sicily because it was the historical battle ground of so many past wars. “We’ll attack there first on our way to France. And we are also sending our army to Israel,” he added.
Dev-Em raised an eyebrow at this. “That is not part of our plan,” he said. “Mordru is unaware of your intent.”
“Then tell him,” said Zaryan. “That is non-negotiable. Israel will be destroyed from the onset, setting the stage for the rest of the war. Then we move on to France from Sicily and make them suffer for their allies insults.”
Dev-Em considered this. “It is not my decision. But Mordru will let you know in time if he desires otherwise. If he doesn’t, simply do what you feel you must…”
“When will Mordru himself make himself known?” said Zaryan. “Obviously, his part to play is the most important.”
Dev-Em laughed loudly at this. “Mordru will arrive on his great Dragon steed in the middle of the battlefield.” Everyone in the room shuffled in discomfort at this statement. It seemed ludicrous. “Doubt me if you will. But I’ve seen the dragon.” More discomfort. Dev-Em smiled and looked around the room. Ever so briefly, he looked in the corner towards Spirit and Sensor, pausing for just a second and then moving his head.
It was enough for the two girls. As soon as someone else entered, they left immediately.
[ March 10, 2008, 09:07 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“I-I’m nervous,” said Tatiana, with a smile and small giggle, which made Mon stare into her face and lose himself in it in a way he didn’t think would ever be possible.
He stared at her, and she stared back. She was shaking just slightly and he could feel it. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly to her.
She leaned forward and kissed him and he lips were soft. She was strong and fierce moments earlier in her passion towards him, and now she was delicate and vulnerable, and his heart grew heavier with each breath. He held her strongly, and put his arm around her back, as he lay backwards and pulled her on top of him.
Their bodies felt warm against each other’s, and they felt a fire building in their bodies. She stopped shaking and felt the sharpest pain, and it stayed for a long time, though all the while she felt another type of explosion in her chest and her throat. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
She put her arms around his neck and he moved in a very slow, steady rhythm, and at last, it began to turn to pleasure for her as the full realization of the moment pulsated with every motion.
They had entered Khundia and she was refreshed; speaking with her ancestors left her feeling like a warrior born, and once more, for the first time in weeks, she felt strong again. In control. Sure of herself. And in that sense, she at once understood what she wanted. She wanted Monius Elysius. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to love him. She wanted him to be her first.
Her strength was addictive to him and though he did not voice it yet, he knew in his heart he was destined to love her. And for the first time since waking up all these centuries later, he felt like there was a real reason for it. There was a real glimmer of hope for him in this time.
They made love. In an abandoned building, in a foreign country, off in their own room where none of the others would bother them. Blankets spread out, with two candles, one good one and one so tiny it barely gave off any light or heat.
But it was perfect.
She laid in his arms afterwards, the full realization dawning on her of what just occurred. She laughed at herself because she felt like she should know how to react, had prepared her whole life for it, but now had no idea. So she lay in his arms, and he held her just tight enough where she felt she didn’t need to figure that out just yet.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“Killing you would certainly earn me some respect around here,” said Veilmist with a seductive smile. “They’d finally leave me alone.”
“Maybe for awhile,” replied Dirk, also smiling, “but they’ll never leave you alone. And where would the fun be in killing me?”
“You’ve got a point,” she replied and kissed him again. He kissed her back and put her arms around, as they sat on her bed. “You’re the first boy to ever come into my room and not try to take from me something I didn’t want to give…and her I go, giving it anyway…” she laughed.
“Its not your fault,” replied Dirk. “I’m terribly hot, and equally as charming. And I’m feeling this whole teen loner/angst thing lately, which you probably find incredibly sexy…”
“Don’t push your luck.” They made out awhile longer and Dirk lost himself in it for awhile. What possessed him to come in here? He had no idea, but now thought it was a good idea. She did too, and for the first time in a long time, she forgot she was stuck here in Khundia.
“Dirk!” he heard. It was Tenz’s voice. He could hear him in his head, wondering what the hell he was doing. “Dirk!” There it was again. Or wait? Was that really him? Yelling in the streets?
“If that’s your friend, you better shut him up,” said Veilmist. “Otherwise all three of us our dead.”
Dirk hopped up from the bed and ran to the window. Down below, he could see Tenz partially in the shadow, but still visible. He shouldn’t be out in the streets. If a soldier saw him, they’d kill him. “Tenz!” said Dirk in a whisper. “Shut up!”
“What? I can’t hear you,” replied Tenz in a semi-yell.
“Shut up!” said Dirk again. “Okay, this was a bad idea,” he said out loud to Veilmist.
“Who the hell is that?” said a voice in a room to the left of Veilmist’s.
“Please tell me that was the little spider-guy,” said Dirk.
“More like the large bastard with dreams of being a murderer and rapist,” she replied venomously.
“Uh, maybe I should get out of here?” he said, unsure of what to do.
“Probably a good idea,” she replied with a half-smile.
“I don’t even know your name, other than, you know, Veilmist. (I hope that’s not your real name by the way).”
“Its Alimah. Yours?”
“Dirk. We’ll meet again.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “I’m not even sure if this is happening or not, or just some dream.”
“Greaaaaat,” he said, hopping out the window. He intended to scale down the building, but suddenly realized once he was out there what a stupid idea that was. “Tenz! Be quiet!”
“Blok told me you were up there,” said Tenz. “Dirk, its really dangerous for you to be out. We should get out of here.”
“Blok told you? Where the hell is Blok? No way he’d let you yell up to me…” said Dirk quietly, but Tenz couldn’t hear.
“Blok took off though,” said Tenz, again too loudly. “I don’t know where he went!”
Dirk began scaling down bit by bit, though he realized he would probably slip. “Who the hell are you?” he heard suddenly, looking up to see the face of Firefist not far from his own. “You’re not Khundian.”
“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” said Dirk casually, “I’m Dirk Morgna, but lately they’ve been calling me Flare…”
“Flare? So you’re a Legionnaire!” yelled Firefist. Dirk began to say ‘not really’, but Firefist suddenly lit his fist in a blaze of flames, and punched down at Dirk, nailing him in the face and knocking him backwards off the building. Three stories he fell, as Tenz realized there was no way he’d catch him. Almost in slow motion, Dirk kept falling, until coming towards the ground…and right into the hands of Hasim, who suddenly appeared.
“How’d I know you two idiots would fuck this up?” said Hasim with a menacing grin.”
“Uh, thanks,” said Dirk, scrambling to his feet as up above, Firefist yelled at the top of his lungs, alerting the troops. Suddenly, there was noise everywhere, as soldiers scrambled. Dirk looked up at Firefist. “You’ll regret that, pal!” he yelled.
Firefist looked enraged. “Really?” he said, and suddenly leapt out the window, landing on his feet, ten meters away from the three, as Tenz rejoined them. His fist once more burst into flame as he ran forward.
Dirk called his own flame forth just in time, and blasted back at Firefist himself. Both blasted their powers at one another, and both seemed to be stuck in stalemate. “Looks like someone else likes to play with fire…” said Dirk. His confidence was renewed by his encounter by Veilmist, and he suddenly couldn’t believe this was happening.
“ARGH!” yelled Blood Claw, running out the door at full speed, leaping towards Tenz, and knocking him backwards. “At last! Legionnaires here!”
“We’re not Legionnaires…” said Tenz, before a fist hit him in the face.
Hasim was on Blood Claw in seconds. He was furious, completely full of rage. He hammered punches into Blood Claw’s side, using the larger fighter’s momentum to pull him forward, and then focus a tremendous punch into his kidney. “My name is Nemesis,” he said, “remember it.”
Suddenly a large net of spider-webbing covered Matter-Eater Lad, Nemesis and Blood Claw, as Flederweb scaled down the building. Up close, Dirk could see Flederweb had bat-like wings, in addition to his spidery appearance, giving him a very odd appearance. But his presence distracted Dirk, which was all Firefist needed, running slightly to the side, and then causing Dirk’s flameblast to veer off, so he fell forward. Firefist was on him in seconds, hammering at his face.
“Enough,” said a familiar, deep, trembling voice, as Blok once more rejoined them. Blok’s massive form picked up Firefist and hurled him to the side.
“Blok,” said Dirk, spitting out blood from his mouth. “Where did you go…?”
“I was alerting the others,” he said, “that it was perhaps time to leave this place.”
“Good idea,” said Dirk, getting up, as Flederweb leapt at the two of them, and Firefist regrouped.
“Monster,” said Firefist, “know that I will carve you apart.”
In the webbing, Nemesis and Blood Claw continued to tussle, which only made the webbing tighter, until neither could move. Blood Claw screamed in rage and anger. “Flederweb! You fool!”
Tenz grabbed a piece of webbing and suddenly took a huge chomp. It went down easy enough, and he took another, starting to eat his way through. “Take a look Hasim,” he said, “once more, eating matter in all of its forms comes in handy again.”
“I notice it usually means you need to be caught first,” said Hasim.
Firefist ran now full speed at Dirk and Blok, though Blok barely moved. Dirk braced for it, when suddenly Valor leapt between them, grabbed Firefist by the arm, and hurled him with amazing strength farther down the street. “Dirk,” said Val calmly, “just because I’m teaching you to fight doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use your ability to blast huge streams of fire when someone is charging you…”
Veilmist suddenly teleported down below. “What’s going on here?” she yelled, obviously faking surprise. Val looked at Dirk and shook his head, obviously knowing more than he said.
“Time to go is right,” said Val, pulling Tenz free, who now started trying to free Hasim.
Firefist recovered, as Veilmist and Flederweb flanked his either side.
Before him now stood Blok, Valor and Flare. In the blink of an eye, two figures blurrily joined them, as Mon-El and Umbra moved towards Flare’s side, and Matter-Eater Lad and Nemesis now stood up. Walking down the street behind them, Spirit and Sensor ran forward, as Khundian soldiers gathered all around them, at first dozens, then at least two hundred.
“You’re outnumbered,” said Firefist.
“Depends on how you look at it,” said Dirk, letting his flames dance higher into the air from his hands. The implication was obvious.
“Even then, you’re outnumbered,” said a familiar voice and suddenly they all tensed up, except Blok, who took it in stride, and Mon-El, who at once became both angry and calculatingly cool. It was Dev-Em, who flew down, in front of Firefist. “I knew we’d meet again soon, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon,” he said. “Just like I knew you’d made it to Khundia, but honestly…to have the nerve to stay here a few days? Impressive.” Firefist looked at the others, as Blood Claw joined them. But he did and said nothing. Dev-Em, hovering in mid-air, emanated power and control. Here, Mordru’s lieutenant had taken over. “I think we both know what has to happen now, Monius,” he smiled.
Mon said nothing, but took his blue cloak, and removed it, handing it to Tatiana, who looked incredibly worried. “You and I have unfinished business,” was all he said.
Tenz looked at Dirk, and they were both worried. This was not how this was supposed to go down. How in the world would they get out of this one? Dirk didn’t look back, and Tenz could see why: he was starign right at the girl, Veilmist. His eyes looked like they were pleading.
Silent and unmoving, she stared back at him. Tenz could not explain why, when he later told this to the others, but he felt like at that point, both Veilmist and Dirk were somehow communicating. Through their eyes. Her eyes looked back at him, as if to say: ‘very well. I’ll help you.’
And suddenly, all nine of them were teleported away. Completely. Dev-Em turned at super-speed, flying up into the sky, searching everywhere for them, as Firefist turned towards Veilmist, understanding immediately what had happened. “They’re all dead,” she said. “I sent them into deep orbit. I killed them,” she said firmly. “Such is the price invaders of Khundia must pay,” she nodded.
Firefist looked like he would hit her, his face twisted in rage. Slowly it began to turn to normal. “Well done,” he said. She showed no further emotion, fearing to do so would reveal her lie.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
The Legend of the Black Pirate ”In the latter half of the 16th century, political forces plunged much of Europe into war. Responding to a personal need to see justice done, British nobleman, Jon Valor, assembled a loyal crew of freedom fighters and set sail under a buccaneer flag, donning the colorful costume of the Black Pirate. At war’s end, Jon Valor was at last captured by the Spanish and sentenced to death. This sentence was commuted when King Philip of Spain discovered that Valor had been secretly wed the night before his execution to the King’s own ward, Donna Bonita. In return for his freedom, Valor agreed to serve the Spanish flag so long as it also served the cause of justice. In time, Valor and his wife had a son named Justin, who, when he came of age, set sail with his father on his adventures. When their situation in Spain at last became untenable, Valor fled the country with his family and crew, returning to England, where he continued his career as the Black Pirate. When Justin, now a young man, was wounded and seemingly lost at sea while fighting at his father’s side, a heart-broken Valor revealed his true identity to English King Charles, and put away the Black Pirate’s cowl, he thought, forever. Five years later, Jon Valor was summoned before his King, who requested the aid of the Black Pirate to stop a mysterious new band of pirates who were raiding British vessels. At length, Valor discovered that his own son, now a Puritan, was the leader of the pirates, raiding British ships in order to fund the Puritans’ journey to America. Making peace with his son Valor watched as Justin set sail for America and a new life, the Valor himself returned to England to live out the rest of his days in peace. Jon Valor was a superior athlete and superb swordsman, as well as an accomplished sailor. Valor displayed above-average hand-to-hand fighting skills, though preferred to rely on his keen strategic mind. Exalted in both England and Spain, the Black Pirate lives in on the annals of history and legend.”
quote:Originally posted by Cobalt Kid: Silent and unmoving, she stared back at him. Tenz could not explain why, when he later told this to the others, but he felt like at that point, both Veilmist and Dirk were somehow communicating. Through their eyes. Her eyes looked back at him, as if to say: ‘very well. I’ll help you.’
And suddenly, all nine of them were teleported away. Completely. Dev-Em turned at super-speed, flying up into the sky, searching everywhere for them, as Firefist turned towards Veilmist, understanding immediately what had happened. “They’re all dead,” she said. “I sent them into deep orbit. I killed them,” she said firmly. “Such is the price invaders of Khundia must pay,” she nodded.
Firefist looked like he would hit her, his face twisted in rage. Slowly it began to turn to normal. “Well done,” he said. She showed no further emotion, fearing to do so would reveal her lie.
Icaria
Ten Zil Kem opened his eye widely, in the midst of a blink, and the warm breeze coming off the summer waves hit his face pleasantly. The waves crashed and he heard their soothing sound, aware of the cry of seagulls not far off and of morning sun, still not fiery hot but gradually becoming so, beating down on his neck. He was a on beach. His eyes widened again as he looked around, suddenly very aware that he was not anywhere near Khundia.
“Dirk! Tatiana! Anyone! Hello?!”
“Over here, Tenz…” said Spirit, walking down from a grassy hill, dusting sand off of her Legion costume. She looked around and there were some people scarcely spread out, and she suddenly felt very embarrassed to be wearing her Legion costume.
“Tina…what happened? Where are we--?”
“We’re at the beach,” she said calmly, “somehow. There’s Tatiana over there.” Not far off, they saw Tatiana Mallor walking towards them. She too seemed to be in a daze.
“What happened? Where are we?”
“We’re trying to figure that out too, Shady,” said Tenz. Evidently, he had no intention of abandoning Tatiana’s nickname, derived from a codename which she chose not to use. “It…it felt like literally one minute ago we were having a stand-off with the Khundian army and that Dev-Em lunatic—“
Again, the three of them were surprised as Blok appeared out of the beach, now becoming an entity made of sand, though still that normal muddy, dark red Earth / dark gray matter form. <font face="Lucida Sans Unicode">”I believe the name of this island is Ikaria, or something similar, depending on what language you’re understanding me in at the moment. A fine island with a deep, long history. Many wars have been fought with this island as an important chess piece.”</font f>
“We’re in Greece, then” said Shady.
“One of the Greek islands in the Mediterranean,” said Tina. “The others must be near…”
<font face="Lucida Sans Unicode">“They are,”</font f> said Blok. <font face="Lucida Sans Unicode">” “They will arrive shortly, I have just contacted them.”</font f>
With that, Mon-El suddenly flew in, holding Flare by his side. “I found Dirk not far from me,” he said smiling. “I’ve been here before, you know. This is one of the islands in Greece I visited…long ago…”. As he and Dirk let go of each other, Tatiana ran over and wrapped her arms around him and kissing him. He laughed a little. “Worried?”
“Just about that maniac Dev-Em,” she said. “I was bracing myself for you two to fight again.”
“I don’t get a reception like that,” said Tenz seeing Tatiana hug Mon and kiss him.
“Don’t get any ideas,” said Tina with a smile.
“It was the girl, Veilmist,” said Dirk. “She teleported us out of there. May have ended up saving us by doing so, and I hope they don’t find out she did it, for her sake.” He had a genuine sense of being sorry she might get in serious trouble (or worse) for them.
“So Sun Boy goes off after a girl—and one of the enemy to be precise—and we all end up almost getting caught and killed.” They turned to see Hasim walking towards them. “Tell me right now why I shouldn’t beat your ass for that,” he said.
“That girl ended up saving us, if you forgot. She obviously wants nothing to do with the Khundian military. She just needed someone to remind her. So I did. We need allies, and I got us one. On the inside too.”
“More like you were feeling lonely and wanted a little Khundian girlfriend,” said Hasim.
“Kettle calling the pot black, Hasim?” said Dirk with a grin, as Jacquie and Valor walked down the beach together, evidently finding each other before meeting up with the others. Hasim fumed, obvious anger in his eyes.
<font face="Lucida Sans Unicode">”That is enough children. We have left Khundia, but have learned all we need to know there. If we do return, per chance, I am sure it will be even more unpleasant.</font f>
“That’s a fine thought…” said Tenz.
“So the question is, what do we do next?” said Dirk.
“There’s a town nearby,” said Jacquie. “I still have some money on me. Do any of the rest of you?” she said. The items they had collected during their travels had been sparse to begin with, but now were sparse to the very extreme of the word.
“I do too,” said Tina. “We can pool it together, get a hotel room somewhere. Maybe pick up some items. If we get back to Austria, I can get more.”
“I can get some too,” said Tatiana, “my father won’t know its gone.”
“Wow, must be nice to be able to ‘get money’,” said Tenz, looking at everyone.
As he looked at Val, Val smiled “don’t look at me Ten Zil, I’m as well off as…Blok.”
While Tenz whispered to Jacquie “did Val just make a joke?” causing her to laugh, Mon spoke up. “Its settled then. Lets head to down, find a room, pick up items at market and find out where to go next. We’re in no immediate danger. I’ve used my vision to look far across the island and there are no enemies here.”
------------------------------------
Two hours later, it was up to Tina and Dirk to find them a room, and they succeeded, with a small bungalow that was nicely secluded. They entered casually, hoping to draw little attention, though they hardly succeeded as Tatiana’s deep blue skin color was hard to conceal and their style of dress even harder. Blok disappeared outside of town but reappeared in the secluded grounds area outside the bungalow.
“Tina, Tatiana and Jacqueline have gone out to get us clothes and other things,” said Mon-El. “Better they go, they’re better at that sort of hassle in the marketplace.”
“How delightfully sexist of you,” said Tenz with a laugh. “I knew it was an old-fashioned attitude, but to hear you say it and then add in ‘marketplace’…well, that was priceless.”
Mon raised his eyebrows in a ‘don’t really care what anyone thinks’ manner, causing Tenz to laugh.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go with them,” said Hasim to Dirk and the implication was plain.
“That’s enough Hasim,” said Val at last. “Your little jabs solve nothing.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t recall asking for your opinion on it ninja”
“Is that some sort of insult?” asked Tenz to Mon. “Feels like it…”
“What do you think we should do next, Blok” said Mon, ignoring everyone and getting to the point, as was his way.
<font face="Lucida Sans Unicode">”We now know some of Mordru’s intentions. It would be wise to rally our allies and prepare. I believe he has made a calculated mistake. He is acting too soon, committing himself too soon. Perhaps because Maziah and Nura escaped him. Perhaps because of our insult to him when fled Zerox. Things will move much faster now.”</font f>
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Tina picked up a black top, looked at it and then put it down. Hesitating, she turned to Tatiana. “This would look good on you,” she said at last.
Tatiana looked up, surprised and at last, smiled. “Thanks,” she said. Tina smiled back.
“I can’t believe we’re shopping for all those boys. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, they're bloody useless when it comes to simple things like clothes and cell phones,” said Tatiana. “At least Mon has an excuse. All Tenz and Dirk seem to think about is their next meal. I thought Dirk was some sort of male model…?”
“He’s embarrassed by it,” said Jacquie, joining them. “It doesn’t really get you much respect among the other guys in our crowd.”
“They all seem to follow his lead though,” said Tatiana.
“Well,” smiled Tina, “he’s the only one who knows how to talk to girls.” They all laughed at that.
“I’ve got us a few prepaid cell phones. I’d say finding a cell phone plan at this stage would be a little ridiculous.”
“Maybe when things settle down,” laughed Tina. “Any luck with some ipods?”
“I was able to get three of them. Between all this, the clothes and the room, we’re just about out of money.”
They all continued to look at the various clothes. “Well, I don’t know whether to buy clothes for warm weather or cold weather. I never know where we’re going to be.”
“I think I know where some of us may have to be,” said Jacquie, at last. “The United States.” The looked at her, a little shocked. “I’ve been thinking about your Legion, Tina. We let Condo and Vi return without any real plan or word to give about Mordru. But maybe its time we came up with a real game plan…”
“We talked about this before, Jacquie…”
“I know, but honestly, it may be the best shot…”
“What’s Irma like, Tina,” said Tatiana at last, cutting them off. “I’ve known her my whole life, yet I’ve never actually met her. Nura too. I’d love to meet Nura.”
Tina smiled. “I’ve only met Nura briefly really, but she’s beautiful. Honestly, she’s ‘make you fall down’ beautiful. She’s smart as a whip too.” Tina smiled to herself, thinking about them. “Irma…Irma is wonderful,” she added. “I really miss her. In the early days, when we first started the Legion, Lorna and I would spend most of our time with Irma, but that was before her and Garth started to, well, spend more time together. When I left, I really didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to her. You’d both be so proud of her. She really is the Legion, in as much a sense that Cos is. It couldn’t function without her.”
Tatiana smiled too. “I’m glad you stayed Tina,” she said at last.
“Do you guys feel anything?” said Jacquie suddenly. She looked slightly confused. “A weird chill just swept across me. Very weird.”
They didn’t, so the three girls paid for their items and began to return back to the boys.
----------------------------------
As they walked back, bags in two, they were laughing still. “I can’t wait to put on clean clothes!” said Tina. “I’m taking off this costume for the duration, I think. If you all are in regular clothes, then I will be too.”
“With that tight stomach,” said Tatiana laughing, “I don’t know why you would…”
Suddenly Tina stopped now. The other two looked at her. “I…I felt it too, Jacq,” she said at last. “The cold chill. Something weird…do you…?”
The other girls looked around, but no one was near them. The wind blew from the sea, which was about a mile away, and they could smell the rich salt water air. But nothing really. “Wait,” said Jacquie. “Yes, I do…but it feels like…my powers are acting funny…”
“What do you think…?” began Tatiana but she began to feel it too.
”It’s the magic” said a voice, “you are all practitioners of it. Otherwise, I could never reach out to you, only you would have the choice to reach out to me. But you made that choice already when you choose magic…
“Who?” said Jacquie, dropping her bags. She focused on her illusion powers, casting them everywhere to cause any illusions to drop.
“That’s it, dearie,” said the voice, while I have seen many, it has been far too long since any have seen me…”
Jacquie continued to cast her spells over illusions, at last causing the light so shift in a weird foray of colors, exposing the magical aura in the air around them. A weird form began to materialize in front of them, a darkened shadow, looking like static in an old television set. “Spirit…” said Jacquie, concentrating.
“I’m here, Jacquie,” said Tina, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“No, my lovely,” said the voice, “she means spirit as in me. As in ghost.” Their eyes went wide as the weird form began to come more into view, revealing an odd, black and white shape. Still blurry, they began to see a man four centuries out of time, by the style of his dress, but also with a mask over his face, covering everything above his dashing moustache. He had a rapier sword in his hand. “The pleasure, dears, is mine. Jon Valor, the Black Pirate.”
[ March 19, 2008, 07:07 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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“Now I really have seen it all,” said Tatiana, looking at the Black Pirate. Of all of them, hers was the power least influenced by magic, based on a type of magic so ancient that it wasn’t really magic at all when compared to the type of power used by Mordru, Maziah, Jacquie or Spirit. But that same point of origin allowed her to see him in full view now, influenced by Jacquie’s own powers of illusions and truths.
”You are not screaming and running for your lives, which is good,” said the Black Pirate, with a hint of amusement. ”I must warn you though, whenever I have allowed myself to be seen by others, it often results in that woman being burned as a witch.”
“Good to know,” said Jacquie, “then you can only appear in front of women?”
“I may be dead, but not completely so, smiled the spirit, ”I can appear in front of whomever I can choose, so long as they are already a practitioner of the ancient arts. Otherwise, the choice is entirely their own, and it is rare to find one already looking for one such as I.”
“You’ve been following us, then? We felt you before in the market place,” said Tina.
“I have, because I sensed you. I sensed your power and it had been a long while since I last communicated with another person.”
“And you live here, in Icaria?” said Tatiana.
“I live in the waters of the Mediterranean,” he said. “All of the sea is where I go, because it is the only place I ever truly called home. And its where I meant my end,” he added. “Otherwise, I’d assuredly be in England.”
“You’re lying to us,” said Jacquie suddenly, and firmly. “Know this, ghost. Mine is the power to know lies and truths, illusions and facades, and to know what is real and hidden. Do not lie to us.”
The Black Pirate smiled wider. “What would you do to me? Kill me?”
The girls were silent. “He’s got a point,” said Tatiana at last.
“Not really though,” said Jacquie. “The three of us were just fine before an apparition came out of the sky and joined us. We can be on our way and Jon Valor here won’t have anyone to talk to again for another hundred years.”
Tatiana turned back to the Black Pirate, now also smiling widely. “She’s got a point.”
The Black Pirate laughed a hearty laugh. “What an age! Three females as fiery and independent as you three. Would that I had flesh once more…” The three girls looked at each other, now even more creeped out. “Very well. I sensed him on you. You’ve been to see Mordru not too long ago, correct? Tis very hard to get the stink of the Dark Lord off you once you’ve gone to see him.”
“What do you know of Mordru?” asked Jacquie forcefully; suddenly very afraid the Black Pirate was one of his agents. After all, he was a ghost.
“Not much really,” replied Jon Valor, “other than what I’ve picked up during my 400 years of being a ghost in the Mediterranean waters and beyond Arabian Peninsula,” at this, they were further surprised. “Yes, I can sail there too,” he said, still smiling. “You can be sure a ghost like myself has a better chance of communicating with the other undead servants of the Dark Lord, or even worse, his other agents. But really, what I know most about the Dark Lord…is the fact that he killed me.”
-------------------------------------
“You know what we need,” said Tenz, “is a laptop.”
“I’d settle for a glass of beer,” said Mon. “And maybe some salted pork. ‘Laptop’ sounds like some complicated thing I won’t really understand but you’ll explain to me about anyway.”
“How about an Ipod, Tenz?” said Tatiana, walking in and throwing him one, which he caught, though only after a fumble.
“Hey!” said Dirk. “The cast of Charmed has returned! With clothes! And Ipods! How was Icaria?” he asked. The boys had all just really sat around all day, getting to know each other better, in between fresh showers naps and snacks.
“There was a nude beach not far from here,” said Tina, “so try not to sneak off and get us all killed,” she smiled.
“Haha,” said Dirk, “a guy makes out with two girls in the last two months and he’s suddenly girl crazy.”
“So you did make out with Violet,” said Tenz, “I knew it!”
Tatiana walked back over to Mon and sat on his lap. “Hi,” she said softly, “missed you,”
“You too, Shady,” replied Mon with a smile.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to start with me too,” she said.
Tenz threw his hands into the air. “Well, now I have to go find Mon a beer somewhere. That was our deal if he calls you Shady…”
“Oh, I see how it is,” she giggled to him. “One beer and you start calling me whatever you want…”
“One? It better be more than one,” he laughed, looking over to where Tenz was going.
“I’ve got you some clothes,” said Jacquie to Val and Hasim, with a smile, handing them both bags.
“Thank you Jacquie,” said Val.
Hasim nodded. “Thanks Jacq,” he said, a little embarrassed.
“I need to talk to you about something,” said Jacquie to Val then. Hasim looked up again, curious and annoyed. “About the Legion of Super-Heroes. About what we need to do now…”
-----------------------------------
The all sat around now, in the backyard of their bungalow, secluded from the streets and neighboring bungalows, but still outside and therefore feeling the cool evening breeze coming off the ocean only a mile away. They sat in a circle, with a small fire lit between them. They were all in new clothes, and for the first time in quite awhile, felt clean after showers, shaving and various other tricks they could do to feel that way.
Dirk made them a pot of coffee and some of them drank it; some others drank tea, like Tatiana, some drank just cold water, and Mon-El drank a glass of cold beer (“it tastes like water” he said about the Corona, “but I’ll take it”). They had eaten. Nothing extraordinary, as they couldn’t really risk spending too much more of their now very slim money, but they’d picked up some fruit and snacks. They felt good, actually. They enjoyed some small talk around the fire with one another, as Blok looked on happily, basking in this type of interaction he enjoyed so much in seeing.
Princess Jacqueline Proiectra looked around. She felt guilty about changing the mood, but knew it had to be done. “Everyone,” she said, and they all looked at her. Spirit wanted to sigh. “We need to talk.” They all looked forward at the fire and knew it was true. “About what to do next.”
<font face="Lucida Sans Unicode">“Jacqueline is right. The time for mustering our forces has now begun.”</font f>
“Mustering our forces…?” said Dirk sarcastically, and Tenz grinned.
“I’ve mentioned this to some of you, and I’ll put it out there right now. If our confrontation with Mordru has taught us anything—anything at all—it taught us that he is a problem for the entire world. Far beyond just us, far beyond Maziah, and I know if she were here she’d agree. We need to stop looking at it that way. Even now, his plans with Khundia involve one of Mordru’s armies attacking the United States, while Khundia attacks Europe. Beyond that, the Pacific and South America will be plunged into war as well.”
“We know this Jacquie,” said Mon-El, “but from what I’ve seen, no one in the world knows about Mordru except those like…like us. Who are we to tell? How can we possibly convince the world of the danger they’re in?”
Jacquie shook her head as if to tell him that question had an answer. “There are a few ways, some hard, some almost impossible. One of them is convincing the United Nations, one person at a time. Tina, your mother might be able to help,” she said to Tina, though Tina secretly began to doubt her mother and even her mother’s loyalties, “and Anton Relnic is another person we need on our side. But really, the answer was right in front of us, and it still is, and in a way, we let it get away from us. The Legion of Super-Heroes can help us. We need to rally the Legion to our cause.”
“Jacq,” said Dirk, before Spirit could speak, “you’ve obviously talked to Tina about this before, and maybe she can say differently. But from what I’ve heard, rallying the Legion to the cause against Mordru seems like a waste of time. The Legion would have to convince their own superiors of a supreme magical being in the Middle East of all places, with an implication of Legion involvement in Khundia as well. It almost seems like an impossible task.”
“Nothing is impossible Dirk,” she said to him sadly. “And it’s a role I have been training my entire life for. Diplomatically and politically, and with my abilities over illusions. I believe I should leave you all and journey to the United States to join the Legion of Super-Heroes.”
[ March 19, 2008, 07:08 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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