posted
He was so furious he could feel the veins on his head and at his temples pounding. His employees took one look at him and went scurrying out of the way, hoping to avoid his attention and its attendant ire. With most it worked.
"YOU! In my office now!"
"Get Sanders here right away! I don't care if he's dead I want him in my office in less than a minute!"
"Get Arlington on the phone!"
~~~~~~~~
The flurry of activity lasted well into the night. By ten o'clock, everyone was gone but everything he wanted done had been handled. Those who still had jobs (for the moment) went home breathing a huge sigh of relief, but one flavored with trepidation and uncertainty.
He sat in his penthouse apartment overlooking Metropolis through the wall to wall security glass windows, reams of paper and facsimile pages scattered on his desk and the surronding floor. Minutes passed and then hours as he contemplated his next move. Finally, around two in the morning, the first faint hint of a smile appeared on his lips.
"Yes, that's it," he thought to himself. "They didn't realize who they were going up against. Chu, Brande, McCauley, all of them will soon find out what happens when they decide to take on Lex Luthor!"
-------------------- "Hey Jim! Get Mon out of the Zone!! And...when do we get Condo back?"
From: Paragon City on patrol | Registered: Jul 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
Circling his opponent, Hasim finally locked on the other man's fighting style. His "Nemesis" power kicked in, and he felt himself grow that much stronger, that much faster, that much better at anticipating moves. The other man was bigger, but that was no longer an asset. Easily ducking a punch that would have connected moments ago, he moved in and hit the man square in the stomach. Doubled over, the man grunted in suprise; the kid hadn't seemed so tough before. A sharp blow to the nose brought the man's hands up again. Another hit to the stomach finished him.
The crowd roared their approval.
Maybe it was only a street fight in a back alley of Rome, but every fight gave Hasim more experience at using his nemesis power. He had fought his way across eastern Europe without losing a match. The crowd quickly dispersed as they always did, but the arranger stayed to pay Hasim his cut of the bets. He didn't need the money; father's insurance settlement had paid off well. And if he closed his eyes, he could still see the look on father's face as he... But never mind, back to the task at hand. Each fight helped him master his talents, and brought him that much closer to his goal. They were a Legion, he an army of one. He would perfect the powers granted him by Tisiphone and Nemesis, prove to the Legion what a valuable asset he could be, and join them. United, he had no power against them, but one by one, eliminated from within...Hasim just smiled his dark, cruel smile and savored the thought.
posted
"Ohhh... did anyone get the number of that lightning beast..."
Ella could only remember one other time she'd had a headache like this - when she came out of the fortnight-long coma the accident that turned out to have given her her powers had caused ("they'll recharge the batteries for us" - what the frell had she been thinking?). And that hadn't been so nice for other reasons - waking to find Mark had never been in a coma, had dropped her and Garth off at a hospital, then skiddadled off to who-knew-where, and Garth had been up & about for a couple of days - and on the verge of leaving too, to go after Mark. While she'd been stuck, she recalled bitterly.
She thought hard for something that may have caused this headache - her recent memories seemed blurry, and the last thing she could clearly remember was preparing to leave home, to follow Garth. But that felt like days ago, and time hadn't seemed to pass last time she was in a coma.
She opened her eyes - she was in bed, dressed in plain white cotton pyjamas that certainly weren't hers. She always wore an oversized T-shirt to bed. The room itself was nondescript - light poured in through the open window, edged with frilly white curtains, onto the cream-painted walls. Other than the bed, there was a plain wooden chest of drawers, with a vase of flowers on top of it, a chair, and a glass-topped bedside table. A digital clock, with red glowing numbers that read 06:46, and portable TV sat on top of this last item.
She didn't remember seeing this room before either, which didn't exactly help her feeling of unease.
Just then, the door opened, and a nurse, dark-haired in her early 30s, looked in. "Ah good - you're awake." She took out a small black object from her shirt pocket, pressed a button on it, said "Doctor, Ms. Raines is awake," into it and waited for the reply of "Acknowledged," which came in a male voice.
She backed into the room, pulling a trolley behind her. Coming over to the beside, she began to measure Ella's blood pressure.
"Excuse me - but why am I here? What is this place? What's going on?"
The nurse looked scandalised - "Don't you remember? These are your quarters. You joined the Workforce, remember? Dear me, that accident must have affected you worse than I thought." "Huh? Accident?" The nurse stopped taking her blood pressure and stood up. "Maybe you should get a more thorough examination from the Doctor. You might have a concussion." "Really, I feel fine. What IS going on? WHAT accident?" Her eyes began to glow electric blue, leading the nurse to take a step back and reach for her pocket radio. Ella pointed one sparking finger at her - "Don't, not until you've answered my question. What IS going on?" The nurse began to question her career choices, swallowed hard, and said, "I don't have all the details, all I know is there was a training accident and a few of the hospital wing staff were sent to the Workforce's quarters. That's all I know - honest!" Ella powered down. The nurse sounded like she was telling the truth, and she supposed her splitting headache could have been caused by a training accident. The fact that she was supposed to have signed up for some "workforce" when she couldn't remember doing it didn't exactly help her confidence though. She looked at the nurse, who looked torn between finishing what she was meant to do, and ripping the door open and bolting for the hills. She held out her arm, which still bore the inflatable armband from the pressure-tester. "Go ahead," she sighed.
The nurse finished taking her blood pressure, temperature and a few other things as fast as was humanly possible, then hurried out the door, the instruments on her trolley jangling unhappily in the rush, leaving her alone again. For a few minutes, until the door opened again and a black doctor walked into the room. Ella thought for a moment of trying the intimidation routine again, but, oddly, she couldn't generate any current. The doctor noticed the look of puzclement on her face - "Inhibitor field," he smiled. "Nurse Choi mentioned your little routine, and I felt it best to take precautions. So what's wrong with you then - feeling disoriented? Dizzy? Headaches? Last few days not quite registering?" Ella nodded. "Not to worry - sounds like you may have a mild concussion." He sat on the edge of the bed, and took out a small optician's torch. "Which is to be expected, after the knock you all apparently took," he shined the little light into her right eye. "Yes, a bit of a delay there..." he did the same with her other eye "...and there. Nothing serious, and that a couple of days of bedrest shouldn't solve. What day is this - Wednesday? The team's not due to launch until Monday, so everything should be fine. Be sure to come to the hospital wing if you're not feeling better by Friday, 'kay?" He stood up, put the torch in the breast pocket of his labcoat and prepared to leave.
"Ummm... doctor?" He turned around as he was walking out the door - "Yes." Something made her change her mind, "Nothing." He walked out and closed the door behind him.
She got unsteadily to her feet and walked over to the window. The desert sand that stretched into the distance whipped at her senses, and she looked down and to her sides, where a three-storey drop led down to what looked like the edge of some sort of complex of buildings, with a 10ft tall perimeter fence, topped with spikes and barbed wire, about five metres forward from her window.
Walking round, she looked in the chest of drawers, with four drawers labelled "Underwear, civilian tops, civilian pants/skirts, Uniforms" in vertical turn. The last was empty. The other three contained a mix of her own stuff, that she remembered packing, and brand new stuff she didn't recognise. She swapped the brand-new clothes she was wearing for familiar underwear and one of her favourite nightshirts, trying to see if it made her feel more comfortable, before collapsing back on the bed.
It was starting to come back to her now - she hadn't had the cash to follow Garth directly, and who knew if the Legion would accept her? - so when the Workforce men had come round offering her a place, she'd jumped at the chance. But even then, something didn't feel right about it, however right it seemed. And she couldn't think why...
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
"The results from the focus groups are in, sir." Crugg handed him a folder, containing seven sections, each with a detailed breakdown of the results of the codename groups. While he would never permit a decision on such a matter to be made without giving him results from similar excercises, he only occasionally actually read them. If he disagreed with the results, the breakdown didn't matter - another study would simply be commissioned to give the desired results. He sat the folder on his desk in front of him."
"Talk me through the preferred results then."
"The codename that came out best for the blond girl was 'Andromeda' - most people seemed to associate the name with stars, which is a helpful connotation to have. A few thought of the TV show, and, helpfully, very few knew of the mythological Andromeda."
"Ah yes, the chained princess..." McCauley smiled at the mild irony of the favoured name. "Any other names that did notably well?"
"Ultragirl also tested well, following on from your thoughts on the unavailable 'Supergirl' trademark, but the only name that tested consistantely well for the boy with similar powers was "Ultraboy," and it was felt that having both an "Ultragirl," and an "Ultraboy," was a bad idea for three reasons - it diminishes the possibility of trademarking, there was considered to be a risk of confusion amongst the general public, and you wanted this Laurel to be the "star" of the group (which testing has actually borne out as a wise move),"
"You sound surprised, Crugg."
"*ahem*... yes sir. Emmm.. continuing what I was saying - even these days, the automatic assumption of much of the public if you have such equivalent male and female names is to automatically assume that the male is in the lead. Which, again, works contrary to the planned strategy, which has the girl as the most prominent member of the group."
"Fine - so "Andromeda" and "Ultraboy" it is. Now what of the others?"
"Well, pictures of the redheaded girl was associated in tests with words like 'bright' and "spunky," so taking that stuff on board, together with the girl's electrical powers, we tried "Spark" among others, which tested far better for the girl than 'Lightning' and 'Thunder'. More in keeping with her apparent character."
She paused, waiting for a reaction from McCauley. When one wasn't forthcoming, she continued. "The mystic's spells are always accompanied by a dragon holographic display, so we thought to combine "Dragon" with some word meaning "magic user". We tried "Dragonwarlock," "Dragonwizard," "Dragonmagus," "Dragonmage" and a few others. It was considered by the panel that the four-syllable names were too clunky, so in the end, they settled on "Dragonmage."
Again no response. Crugg was beginning to get nervous. "Ummm.. for the telepath, we ran through many, many names, as there was considerable indecision on what may be a good name for her. "Esper" was discounted as she does more than mind-reading, and ESP is considered to be an outdated term anyway. "Tela" is the official codename of the Legion's telepath, although for some odd reason she's become more commonly known as 'Satin Girl'. She has no obvious markings or power signatures to use as a guide for a codename. Eventually, given her aggressive personality profile, we came up with "Enrapture," which tested well enough for use."
Again, silence. Her voice began to noticeably speed up. "For the magnetic kid, Polarity tested best, and for the boy who can make attacks rebound, a Legionnaire was already using Rebound, but "Reflecto," was a strong second. Anythingelsesir?"
He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, with the tip of each finger meeting it's counterpart on the other hand, speaking slowly and deliberately. "Andromeda, Spark, Enrapture, Polarity, Reflecto, Ultraboy and Dragonmage, correct?"
"Yessir." Crugg had annoyed him, it was blatant. She felt rooted to the spot, wanting nothing more than to run out screaming, but felt unable to move.
McCauley shut his eyes, deliberately prolonging her agony. He had already decided to accept the names, but while she was a capable enough P.A. that he didn't want to terminate her, he couldn't allow her to feel safe after that slip.
"Yes," he finally spoke after a delay of several minutes. "Those will do. And the symbols?"
She handed him another folder, also containing seven sections. Rather than asking her to talk her through them this time, he flicked to the summary pages, containing seven symbols, white on black to go with the dark blue with thick black neck to ankle vertical stripe uniforms the workforce would be wearing. He flicked through them slowly, occasionally making minor alterations to the symbols with a black or white ink pen. When he reached Ultraboy's unusual symbol, he stopped and read the sidebar. Apparently it had been something the youth himself had daubed on his surfboard and clothing after gaining his power, and had been included in the survey after no prior use anywhere could be found. It had no obvious meaning, however. He thought long and hard over allowing the use of such a symbol, but finally decided that, as long as McCauley Industries could trademark it, there was nothing particularly wrong with allowing it's use. And no-one of any ethnic origin on the panels had raised an actual objection, which was unprecedented... He waved it through, and handed the folder back to Crugg.
"Have the uniforms fabricated immediately, allowing for my alterations to the symbols." "Yes sir." She lingered a moment too long. "What are you waiting for? I'm not paying you to lounge around. MOVE!"
She almost ran from the room, but retained enough self-control to think better of it. ____________________________
The symbols BTW [codenames in brackets are the codenames from the comics, which won't be used here]:
Andromeda:
Dragonmage:
Enrapture [Esper Lass]:
Polarity [Magnetic Kid]:
Reflecto:
Spark:
Ultraboy:
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
Professor Vartan having witnessed the blast, found that the explosion transformed Randal Burroughs and John Drake-Hagale into a singular (and disembodied) energy being. Managing to create a somewhat crude containment suit for "Drake Burroughs".
Several weeks later Drake landed on the roof with Professor Vartan making some notes.
"It looks like the suit's thruster system works perfectly now."
"That's great," Drake replied, "Then we can work on getting me a body."
Vartan's face changed to a somber one, "We've been over this time and again Drake, with cutbacks at the university that'll be impossible. (Not that it wasn't already.) We'll have you turn somewhere else."
"You're the professor. You tell me where to go."
Vartan though for a moment, "You know RJ Brande's project? The Legion of Super-Heroes isn't it?"
Drake nodded, "Yeah."
"I'll make a call to Mr. Brande and see if he's interested in bringing you into the Legion. Besides if anyone can help you, it'll be the legion."
-------------------- A Chaotic Neutral stuck in a Lawful Good world
From: Alberta, Canada | Registered: Jul 2003
| IP: Logged |
When the young man came to, he was completely bewildered. He had no recollection of where he was or how he had gotten here. The last thing he remembered was that terrible explosion and the searing pain...excruciating pain! Surely he had died!
Dios mio!
No, he hadn't died, although he should have! He still remembered the feel of his skin bursting into flames as he was engulfed in a ball of fire from the explosion. It was horrible!
An yet, the more he thought about it the more he realized that it wasn't so much horrible as it was strange...fascinating, actually. Somehow, during the slow motion horror of the moment, it had felt right, as if a door had opened in his mind and he had finally achieved his destiny.
Lifting his head slightly and looking around, he realized that he was still lying in the jungle's underbrush at the perimeter of the LuthorCorp complex in Columbia. His charred remains had been ignored or overlooked by everyone in the mayhem following the explosion.
As his glance fell on his hand, he was shocked to see a patch of perfectly smooth skin at the base of what should have been his right thumb on his charred hand. As he moved his arm closer to take a look, his hand began flaking. Pieces of...charred cloth? or something began falling away, revealing his own unmarked skin underneath!
Que? Pero...como?
How could this be? He wasn't burned at all! It's as if his military fatigues had protected him from the flames! His gloves, shirt, pants, boots, even his facemask and helmet were burnt to a crisp! But he was fine! He was in pain, but the kind of pain one would expect from being hit by the force of a massive explosion but he was fine!
Gingerly climbing to his feet, Ramiro finished brushing the ashes and cinders off of his body. All that remained on him were his tee shirt and boxerbriefs. For some reason, those articles that fit snuggly against his skin had received the same protection as his body.
He needed to find some clothes and then he would be back to make these people pay! They were responsible for a great deal of suffering and damage in the area.
As his anger at the LuthorCorp facility workers burst forth, he was shocked to see a glowing aura instantly form around his hands. Suddenly the aura seemed to come into focus and......
Fuego!
Flames! He was shooting flames from his hands! The shock of this discovery ontop of everything else was just too much. As Ramiro keeled over in a faint, the flames went out of their own accord. His last conscious thought was that he was now like one of those idealistic cartoon characters he had so admired in the comic books he had read as a child: Superman, Batman, Astro Lad. He was now like them...he was Fire Lad!
-------------------- "Hey Jim! Get Mon out of the Zone!! And...when do we get Condo back?"
From: Paragon City on patrol | Registered: Jul 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
Metropolis Mall, two weeks later. Kon and Douglas sat at a table in the food court, along two of his new Suicide Squad teammates, Jacques Foccart, his sister, Danielle Foccart, and Anne "Kono" Schlar. It was the day of their first mission, and they were all reviewing their parts before curtain call.
"Okay, team," asked Jacques, a strong, built man in his early twenties. "Everybody remember their part?"
"Yeah, yeah, we remember," said Anne, as she played with her light blue hair. Ah get you, Doug, and your sister inside Legion HQ, and she disables/hacks into the computer system while we search for useful info. Doug acts as security for Dani, and Kon is backup for when this whole thing blows up in our faces."
"Right, thank you, Anne. Any questions?" When nobody answered, he continued. "Code names?"
Kon: "Tetsuo" Doug: "Ferro" Anne: "Kono, like always." Danielle: "Oracle."
"And I'm 'Fantomas' mission leader," finished Jacques. "Remember to always use them during the mission. We cannot afford to be caught." He paused for a second, and then continued. "Okay, people, the mission starts in two hours, so I suggest you get some rest and prepare yourselves. You're dismissed."
[ December 08, 2011, 09:17 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: San Juan, Puerto Rico | Registered: Jul 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
"Hey, Polarity!" It was the first training session since the "mass knockout," and the first one since they got their codenames, so it took him a few seconds to realise he was the one being called. "What is it Ella, emm, Spark?"
"Spark when in costume, remember." She smiled from her position of shelter in the irregularly shaped, multi-level training room. "Need a hand from mag-boy to get my target here."
He'd been told that the session was a "mixed" session - a mix of target-hitting and free-for-all. "What do you need?"
"If I go line-of-sight, it fires at me - but to blast it, I need to get line-of-sight. I thought you could redirect my blast for me, since electricity and magnets work together."
"Umm... sure."
"'Kay - it only fires at me, so get where you can see it and get ready." She moved back so that she was as close to seeing it as she could be without actually risking being fired at, and he, glancing repeatedly at where she stood, tried to take up position somewhere close by, at a good angle to pull the redirect.
"Ready?" He nodded in response to Spark's question. "Go!"
She let loose a blast, and a second or two later he activated his mag-field, intending to "push" the bright line in the right direction. Unfortunately, he got his charging the wrong way round and ended up "sucking" the blast in. While he didn't suffer any direct injury from the blast, since his system could process the electricity, it supercharged his field for the second or two it took Spark to power down, and several small metal objects hit him, one on the side of his head, knocking him to his knees.
Spark hesistated, her natural instinct to help him warring with the knowledge that going over to him would just get them fired at while he couldn't dodge. "Paul - you okay?"
Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the ringing in his ears, he called "yeah," then winced as he made his way gingerly to his feet. He looked over to her and tried to smile - "Hard head."
"It's okay - I'll find another way to get this." "No - I'm okay," he said as there was a loud bang at the other end of the training room. "Really? You should probably--" "I'm fine. I know what I did wrong. Let's do this."
They took up position again. She glanced over to him, looking slightly concerned. He looked back, gave a slightly over-wide smile and nodded his head in the direction of the target. This time, the maneouver worked, and he pushed the crackling bolt of lightning onto the target, deactivating the weapons. She jogged over to him.
"Thanks - ow." He'd turned his head, and she saw the other side of it, black hair matted with red blood. "You should get that checked out." "There's only 15 mins left - not worth the Wrath of McCauley..." "Paul!" She spoke before realising she didn't really know why she'd objected. "Sorry - I don't know why I said it like that." "It's okay," in a tone that showed she meant it. "Anyway - the bleeding's stopped, it's scabbed over, and it's not worth missing the last quarter of an hour. You'd better get the rest of your targets." "Thanks - I owe you one." She smiled at him one last time, then moved on to get her next target as he watched her go. But his gaze hung on her a second or two too long, and he winced as Ultraboy used his inattention to slam into his back. Only the training-field that limited the force of the blow saved him from serious injury. As it was, he could still feel the bruise forming. "HEY - watch it!"
"Sorry m'man, but you know we're not s'pposed to hold back."
Muttering silently, Polarity began to pick himself up, when everything started glowing green, and he sank into the floor, which had suddenly become a sticky, molasses-like mass. Looking up, he saw a quick flash of red in the green. He was in one of 'Mage's dragon-shaped spell fields. What was this - "Kick Polarity Day"? He "felt" the steel beneath the goo, and, in repelling it, managed to push himself up and out of the spell-field. Unfortunately, annoyed as he was, he misjudged the force needed and was on course for another painful collision, this time with the wall. Luckily for him, Andromeda took pity on him and caught him before he connected.
"Ummm... thanks." "Just watch yourself, and don't do that again," she said firmly, while aiming a blast of heat vision at Dragonmage, who conjured up a shield to deflect it.
She set him down, but within seconds he was on his ass again. Oddly though, it felt kinda good, and he couldn't quite muster the concentration to repel the attack. Enrapture smiled - actual telepaths aside, next to no-one guarded their pleasure centres. Give those a quick tap, and just about everyone's psi-shields vanished. And the fact that the good feeling made them less likely to defend in future, like a dog trained to do something unnatural for them by giving them treats, didn't hurt. She enjoyed making him quack like a duck for a minute, then got him to blast over her left shoulder, where she felt someone sneaking up. Unfortunately for her, she realised it was Reflecto after she'd had Paul let off the blast, and the attack bounced straight off him, knocking her to her knees and causing her to let Polarity go.
He smirked at the picture.
"Hey girlie, you want to bow down before me, you're facing the wrong way. Not that we couldn't get into something this way round, but..."
Angered at the indignity of her position more than the sexist remark, she mind-blasted him, knocking him on his ass - his powers only protected him from physical attacks. She would have kicked him for the remark, but remembered how his field was always on, whatever his mental state, in time. The "time up" hooter went a second later.
Andromeda helped Ultraboy up from the blow she'd delievered just before the time-up, and Spark went to help Polarity up - who was still recovering from the nightmare end to the session he'd had. Dragonmage spent a few moments in mediation, to recover his mental strength after a full hour of spell casting. And Enrapture headed straight for the exit, leaving Reflecto lying on his back to try and recover from the whammy she'd just hit him with.
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
The last of the team had signed. The lawyer was surprised at quite how eager they all were - not one of them would have so much as glanced at the contracts had he not insisted they did - so HIS back was covered at least.
Did they really want to be part of this team so much that they were prepared to sign away five years of their lives to that weasel? It wasn't as if the contracts were especially generous - indeed, in what they demanded and permitted, they were über-restrictive - hell, it was the closest thing to them signing a piece of paper saying "my wish is your command" he'd ever seen.
«Ah well - they signed up of their own free will, let them take the hits,» he thought. ________________
He entered the room.
"It's done?" McCauley's face was almost impassive, but for the faintest glimmer of impatience in his eyes.
"It's done sir, but as I ment..."
"Your concerns are not mine. My copies please?"
The lawyer handed him half the stack of paper he carried, then as McCauley signalled him to go, he left the room, muttering "You bastard" under his breath. _______________
The petty concerns of a dead man walking made no difference to McCauley. Now he had the Workforce legally as well as psychologically bound to him, and the launch event set up and ready for two days time, he only had one real concern in the whole project. Unfortunately, it was a huge, black, gaping hole. The insect...
Search parties and even stolen satellite survellence had failed to find him, but testing suggested that his maximum range would leave him in the USA. To believe he had died in his escape attempt - perhaps by overextending himself - was tempting, but given that he was the only other person outside the complex who knew the about the experiments - and possibly even the Workforce's brainwashing - and was able to betray that knowledge could prove fatal. As he left the room, his temper betraying him, he wondered yet again where the hell it could be. He could only hope it was dead. _______________
Gates wondered for a second if he was dead, before deciding he hurt too much. Looking down in the half-light, he saw his claws and jumped. He still wasn't used to this ridiculous body McCauley's experiments had left him with. The fact that he could still breathe properly suggested he still had lungs & hence wasn't completely insectosoid - an insect his size would suffocate. He wondered how much of the real him was left.... Shutting his eyes, he let his mind wander to think how he ended up in this enclosed space. Had McCauley...? No.
He remembered that girl being tortured, and how he'd just managed to fight their dampeners enough to teleport out of the complex. Then how he'd teleported as far as he possibly could, farther than he'd thought possible, and collapsed at someone's feet. Someone wearing trainers. Then he'd passed out. He had no idea how he'd got from there to here, or where he'd been taken to. Some kind of militaristic complex? It would be typical to go from corporate torture to torture by some corrupt government, perhaps with designs on ruling the world. Well, this teleporter wasn't going to stand for it!
He tried to open a gate out, but only got as far as a pencil-sized opening before the pain he was already in got so intense that he winced and the portal collapsed. What was it? Some method of restraint? Or had he overtaxed himself in the teleport so much that... no.... "нет.... nyet....!! ________________
Tom hoped the insect-guy would shut up until his mum went out in five minutes. He didn't want to have to explain to her why he had a talking insect in his old toybox. ________________
McCauley needed to relax, so he went down to the sub-basement and stood before one specific cell he'd visited before. To know he had him chained and insensiate always reassured him. Although that was about to change....
"Hello again," he said, malice evident in his voice. "Thought I'd better let you know you're getting out tommorrow. And just so you know there's no hard feelings, I'll even give you a job, happy about that?" The sedated man made no response to the feeble taunting.
"And I'm sure you'll love working for me, it's what you've always wanted, isn't it?... Mano."
[ April 22, 2004, 10:57 AM: Message edited by: Sanity or Madness? ]
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
Zoe couldn't contain hern excitement as she checked her reflection in the mirror. Sure, she had missed her prom, but joining the Legion more than made up for that! All the girls back home would be green with envy, and all the boys would be dying to ask her out! She could just imagine it now, when the prom king himself would walk up to her, tapping her on the shoulder, and then, when she turned around, he would stare into her emerald green eyes and say, "Excuse-"
"me, Zoe, but could you help me with my costume?"
"Zoe whirled around to find Sally, her closest new friend, in the doorway, wearing her new costume. "The legs are too short; I was wondering if you could lengthen them?"
"But why? They show off your legs perfectly! I'd love to have an outfit like that! Although," she said, twirling her hair," this one is just perfect!"
"I'd rather not become such a center of attraction... I don't really care about clothes that much."
Zoe giggled. "I have a friend just like you back home! Her name was Sabrina, and she always had neat but kind of old-fashioned clothes. So did I, and the cheerleaders never let us forget it." She stopped giggling as the painful memories came flashing back. But only for a moment, then she brightened up again. "But at least now I can have all the beautiful clothes I want. And I'll make sure they know it."
"You still worry about what they think?" Sally asked, still in that same even, quiet tone of voice. "You're already beautiful, even without pretty clothes."
"But... beauty, intelligence, talent... none of them are really important unless the popular, powerful people like you, Sally." Zoe shook her head for emphasis. "I've learned that the hard way. Why, don't you want to be loved and accepted by everybody?"
"No..." Sally hung her head. "I've learned long ago not to care what others think."
"Yeah... well, I learned long ago that a little cheer can chase all your problems away. Come on, let's go and explore our new little clubhouse. Jenni told me that we have a virtual reality room! And our very own chef! Wana go grab some ice cream?"
"Sure! Think they have strawberry?" Sally said as they stood up, costume alterations all but forgotten.
Three years before, he'd attempted to assasinate Leonard McCauley as part of a campaign against the corporate greedmongers who practically ran society these days, of which McCauley was one of the worst examples - even in that rotten set. Ever since, he'd been paying the price for his failure.
At first, McCauley was content simply to have him tortured. But then another option had opened - his fledgling program to create and control metahumans. He'd begun experimentation, but subjects with activatable metagenes were few & far between. Most of the victims simply died slowly and painfully in agony, and many of those with actual metagenes ended up heavily deformed or even killed by their own "power." McCauley didn't hesitate to throw Mano in.
To his shock and horror however, not only did Mano prove metagene-positive, he became the most sucessful subject to date!
He produced small organelles all over his body, which generated a disruption field which surrounded his body. This field absorbed all light, making him appear to crackle with jet-black energy, but it's primary function was to steal energy directly from the atoms of the air, most of which were merely slowed, but some had electrons ripped from their orbits, converted to pure energy which was absorbed by the field, and molecules were broken into their component atoms by the disruption.
As a side-effect of this process, he no longer needed to eat or breathe - the energy provided by the organelles being sufficient to sustain him. Indeed, as his breathing reflex was intact, normal air was moderately dangerous to him, as the oxygen levels improved the efficiency of the organelles' energy uptake enough that the surplus of energy left him in a state resembling drunkenness.
What had given him his current name though, was that the highest concenrations of organelles were in his hands. For an animal or human to touch most of Mano's body left them weak and dizzy. If his left hand, which had a tenfold concentration of the organelles, touched them briefly, it left them unconcsious for hours, with prolonged contact leading to a coma. But his right hand... his right hand had a hundred-fold concentration of the organells. His right hand was Death, disintegrating all it touched bar Inertron, the strongest, most durable substance known.
On seeing these results, McCauley, in his panic, had him sealed in an intertron-lined suit in an intertron-lined cell, with bars of interton, with hyperoxygenated air pumped into the suit to keep him sedated. Lying barely-conscious but never unconscious, always looking at the same section of silver-coloured wall for almost three years. Three long years. Only his thoughts of vengence on McCauley had kept him anywhere near sane. And now, now he knew he could never act upon them.
He looked around his new, opulent cell. At the thin silver, interton-fortified gloves that had replaced the suit through the oxygen-filtered helmet he now wore. At the endless luxuries scattered about the room. Luxuries he swore he would never use. Which was probably why they were there.
He remembered the pain of the brainwashing, the surprise of the techs that he realised he had been brainwashed... and the commands he could no longer disobey.
In despair, the first time he'd been alone he'd attempted to remove the gloves and destroy himself, leaving nothing of himself to be mocked, only to find that he couldn't remove the gloves. He couldn't even make the attempt. Other attempts at suicide failed the same way, and he'd heard McCauley's laughter. He'd watched Mano's whole performance.
Now, he was supposed to be the leader of McCauley's death-squad. His own, true name forgotten at McCauley's command, forever to be known solely by the Spanish word for hand. McCauley's final little revenge on his new pet.
Mano hated what he'd become.
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
Laurel was nervous. The team was due to be announced to the waiting public in less than half an hour.
«Leader?! How did I end up in this mess?»
She remembered leaving the orphanage in an attept to find & join the Legion . After hours of flying around, trying to find the team, she'd talked herself out of it. Obviously they'd never accept someone who just... flew in and said "Hi, can I join your team?" It was hopeless.
Then she'd spotted the McCauley recruitment poster, and when she reached the building it mentioned on it, she'd been admitted to a meeting with Mr McCauley himself! Awed, of course she'd joined up straight away. And apart from that one strange incident where they all K.O.ed each other, she'd not had any real cause to regret her choice. Who'd have thought that Laurel Gand, an orphan with no living relatives and no money could make good so quickly?
Trying to relax, she tried to hard and ended up letting down her guard. She had to concentrate a bit at all ties to keep her super-hearing dampened enough so that she didn't end up listening into every conversation in a 10-mile radius (it wasn't even just "white noise" - for some reason she could even comprehend them all. Well, all of them in English anyway - it'd drive anyone mad). Before she managed to rein it back in, the snippet of speech that really caught her attention came from Spark [who, by the sound of the faster-than-normal heartbeat beside her was talking to Polarity].
"...be fine, just try & copy Laurel (or Andromeda - whatever). I sometimes wonder if anything fazes her. Wish I..."
«Heh,» Laurel thought, «If only she knew...»
It was something that came from her time in the orphanage. Super-powers did nothing to stop someone verbally ripping you to shreads. Heck, some of the worst taunting came from people who caught her practising her powers when she thought no-one was around. They could see her trying to restrain herself, and the knowledge that she'd basically have to ignore them or kill them seemed to embolden them rather than the reverse.
So the little orphan girl learned not to react, or to show when she was scared or nervous, putting on an unshakeable veneer of confidence and certainty, no matter what. ____________
Ella had only been in her hotel room for five seconds, having been told she'd be called from there for the conference, when someone knocked at the door.
"Umm... come in?"
A man walked in, carrying a stack of cardboard boxes in his hands. He set them down, picked out the one with "Spark" written on it, and put it on the coffee table beside her settee.
"Right, here's your uniform for the conference. They've tweaked the design a bit." "Ummm... they don't have big gold buttons on them, do they?" The guy looked at her strangely. "Ummm... No. Why would they" "I just had a nightmare last night about someone dressing us in ugly red & blue suits with big, tacky gold buttons on them. They're not?" He rolled his eyes, thinking she was lucky she wasn't meant to be precognitive - she'd be kicked off the team straight away for a mistake this big - "No. From what I was told, they actually tested mostly red suits, and pretty much no-one liked them in the testing. "Big gold buttons" didn't even make it that far." He left with a shake of his head, closing the door behind him.
She looked at the suit she'd been given, let out a sigh of relief, and began to get dressed... _____________
"And finally, McCauley Industries shocked the stock market today by announcing a team of superpowered operatives to be known as the Workforce. Our New York correspondent, Martin Grey reports."
----
"In a suprise announcement today, Leonard McCauley, majority shareholder and CEO of McCauley Industries revealed the formation of a team of metahuman operatives for the company to be known as the Workforce
McCauley announced that the Workforce "would be used to defend McCauley Industries plants against the increasing threat of metahuman criminal behaviour," as well as any other potential targets who sign up to [their] Workforce Plan, and would attend at future McCauley press conferences as added security. He denied that it was a response to the recent founding of the UN-sanctioned "Legion."
The team, clothed in distinctive blue and black outfits bearing individual symbols as well as "McCauley Workforce" logos, put on a brief display for the waiting crowds before descending to talk to waiting reporters:"
[Andromeda:] "Well, it's great to be given the chance to make the world a more secure place, and we've got every intention of doing that job as best we can."
"The Workforce are due to go on duty before the end of the week. Martin Grey, ITV News, New York."
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
Loosely inspired in part by an original post by Valor the M'Onel
In the ape enclosure of Metropolis Zoo, a loud scream rang out and, suddenly - where there had been a great ape moments before - there was a naked boy, cold and shivering. Taking one look at his surroundings, he began to cry - was this his future, to be on display with no human thought, no recollection of who or what he really was? Since Edward Volsar's father George had died nine months earlier, he had lost control of his meteor-granted ability to change into more primitive or advanced primates, and now regressed to ape form whenever he became emotional. Not hard when you were an orphan, living on the streets.
Shaking his head, he choked off his tears - things were bad enough as it was without turning into an ape again. Instead, he slipped out of the bars, and had soon slipped into the zoo office with practiced ease to steal a uniform. An hour later, he was back on the streets. He had to do SOMETHING, or he'd be stuck in ape form permanently soon the way things were going. Then a newspaper sticking out of a nearby bin caught his attention. There, prominently, was a picture of the Workforce press conference.
He quickly grabbed it and devoured the text. A well-paid, well-fed powered group, with the copy stressing how they and other metahumans had been helped with their powers by McCauley Industries? That sounded like the place for him... ________
The next day, he found no problem in slipping past the "security" in the Metropolis HQ of McCauley Industries - being unremarkable (in human form, at least) had its' advantages. As did being a practised lockpicker and thief, granted. As luck would have it, he even found out Leonard McCauley himself was present that day, and decided to take his case straight to the top.
Just how hopeless the security was was proven when McCauley's secretary was the first one to actually challenge him, with an "EXCUSE me, you can't go in there!"
He stopped for a moment and breathed, trying to find his still point - to achieve his "future" mode, he had to be absolutely calm. The receptionist certainly wasn't as his brain swelled, his body shrinking slightly to compensate, backing away slightly with her mouth open in a silent scream.
"You find nothing unusual about me," he said quietly but firmly, making steady eye contact.
"I find nothing unusual about you," she said, instantly settling back down.
He couldn't afford to laugh and maintain his advanced form. He certainly wanted to. "I think you'll find I have an appointment."
"Yes, please go through."
He swung the door open, to find Leonard McCauley sitting alone at his desk. "Hello, Mr. McCauley. My name is Evolvo. I believe you have a place for me on your Workforce?"
"Indeed?"
McCauley had shifted slightly in his seat, but showed no great signs of fear. Had he summoned them? Edward reasoned that he had better move quickly. "Yes," he said, trying to make eye contact as he had with the receptionist - but McCauley's eyes, concealed behind glasses, seemed to elude him. Come on... "I think... you'll find..." He felt worry begin to cloud his senses - was the super-fast "Andromeda" he'd read on her way to clout him? What about the telepath - was she behind one of the doors? "...that..." He began to revert to human form, No, come on, come on, need to be future. Advanced. You need to convince him..., he thought frantically.
It was no good. He wasn't even just going back to human, hair was beginning to sprout from his body, and his clothes were beginning to tear. "Me... Evolvo... you need..." he spluttered out moments before he lost the power of speech.
"Yes, yes..." McCauley said, pressing a button under his desk. For a moment, he'd been amused, but having what was clearly becoming an out-of-control ape in front of him was no laughing matter.
Instantly, targeting systems in the room identified the figure not in their systems and proceeded to launch multiple tranquilliser darts at it. Caught off-guard, it dropped to the floor, unconscious.
McCauley laid down the pistol he had grabbed in his other hand, as security guards belatedly entered the room, carrying a stasis booth and preparing to remove "Evolvo" to the "metahuman bank" of their desert facility, as McCauley left the room, first to bawl out his secretary and security team, then to find a way to prevent the recurrence of such incidents. Despite the need to be selective in the subjects they "banked," the début of the public team a mere couple of days before had proved an absolute goldmine. In addition to the companies who had rushed to sign up the team as very public "protectors", meaning that the project had moved into profit in less than a month - over five months ahead of schedule - they now had over sixty subjects immediately available, without the need for further recruitment missions. He was considering moving to Phase 2 earlier than he'd anticipated the need for as a result, although that was at least a month away.
Whatever he did though, he snorted, this "Evolvo" wouldn't get out of his stasis tube for a very, very long time...
posted
Sorry about leaving this for so long - between exams and a mental block, I've left this bit half-finished on my HD for ages. Moving along now... __________________________________________________________________
"I still fail to comprehend..." "Brainy..." "DO. NOT. call me 'Brainy!' Or 'Doc.' Or 'Egghead.' If you must burden me with one of those infernally irritating codenames, refer to me as Brainiac Five." Trinity giggled so hard she triplicated at this. It had become almost a motto of Quentin's. "Why?" her purple-eyed body said, "Like remembering back when you were a lab rat? Maybe they should have..." "SISTER!" Her "Orange" body cut her off before she could finish the sentence. The shyest of the three bodies, all three knew what the others were thinking at any given time. And she certainly didn't enjoy what the "Purple" body did sometimes, like now. Brainy's face had gone the colour of holly leaves. "Fine." T-Purple's voice had the edge of a sulk to it. "I'm just saying that if anyone made me a lab rat, I wouldn't be going round celebrating it."
*Ahem* Cos stepped in to end the spat before it got serious. "Look, Brainy...ac Five," catching himself just in time, "I'm sure Lorna didn't mean anything by it."
As if with a great effort, Quentin Docks calmed himself and said, "I would prefer to go around "celebrating" my real name, Quentin Docks. I'm not the one who insists on these... childish pseudonyms."
"Fine then, we'll just call you 'Dox.' Happy?" T-Purple felt the need to make one last crack "More than before."
"I really don't know why you keep following us when we try & see Paul & Ella, you two," Garth cut in, exasperated.
Trinity-Neutal pulled her other selves in quickly before Purple could start another argument. Everyone knew Brainy went so he could try and meet Andromeda. And she went because she wanted to see Brainy try and meet Andromeda. ________________________
It looked like they were going to be fobbed off again at first - although a cursory scan of the news reports showed that it wasn't all about keeping them away. The Workforce made a point of keeping very high-profile in everything they did, even if they'd only been called into action once. Cos wasn't sure if he was relieved or jealous at this moving the spotlight off the Legion...
"Hi bro." Paul's voice made him turn - his team was entering the reception area, coming back from a PR stunt for one company or another. Before he could continue - or Cos himself could respond, however - a loudspeaker message announced the Workforce's return, and a surfeit of confetti fell from the ceiling, as the workers applauded. The irritation some of the team members showed looked more genuine than most of the applause though. Enrapture and Ultraboy, however, visibly lapped it up.
"HERE - COME ON THROUGH TO THE REC ROOM" Paul had to shout to make himself heard over the canned music that was now playing. As they walked along the corridor, and it began to fade, Cos made a comment about his brother's lack of contact recently. His face showing genuine contrition, he answered "Sorry about that that, really. All the calls into and out of this place are taped, and I didn't want anyone listening in on our calls. And I don't get any time off for another fortnight."
"They tape your calls?" "Everyone's calls. Something about not leaking stuff to the media before the official announcements" Cos weighed this for a moment, then recalled the Workforce's media coverage and the show their press confrences got. Clapping his arm around his brother's shoulder, he replied "Ack, it's okay. As long as you start talking," before adding with a smirk, "And don't hold anything back."
Nearer the back of the column though, a less cordial reunion was taking place...
"Hey, Ella, wait up!" Garth called. "Garth." Ella's voice was so cold, it was a surprise her breath didn't form icicles. Garth gulped. He'd more than half-expected this. "Hi Ella - how've you been doing?" he tried, as they entered the rec room. "I've kept busy." "Come on, you're not still sore about..." "'Still sore!?' Now why would I still be 'sore' about anything?" Agitation began to creep into her voice. "Come on, it's not my fault that..." "That WHAT? That weak-little girl me was in a coma for a week longer than you? That you'd already packed your bags to go when I wake up to look for our deadbeat brother? That you LEFT ME BEHIND maybe!?" Her eyes were glowing now, and blue-white sparks started flying from them now. All it really served to do was to get Garth angry too though. "So what? I was just meant to leave Mark to go off and go do who-knows-what?" His eyes were also glowing now, and the whole room had fallen silent, watching them as the sound of their voices and the crackle of the electrical coronas forming about them left other conversation almost impossible. "I didn't make you come along with me on that boat trip to keep an eye on them."
"Is she always like this?" Cos muttered to his brother. "I've seen her get annoyed, but nothing like this," Polarity replied. "Him?" "Same."
"And I wouldn't have come with you if you'd asked?" "I didn't want to put you in any danger!" He knew he'd said the wrong thing the second he'd said it. She was expending so much energy that looking at her hurt the observers eyes. "DO I LOOK LIKE I CAN'T HANDLE MYSELF?!?!"
The Kline brothers decided to step in at this point before anyone got hurt or anything smashed up.
"Ummm... guys," Paul was the first to interject, "take a look at yourselves for a sec, huh?"
The Raines twins reluctantly began to power down, Ella somewhat more slowly than Garth, but continued to glare at one another.
"Why?" Ella finally added in a hoarse whisper. "Really. Why did you really, truly feel the need to leave your twin sister like that?" Garth paused before replying. Honestly, that week while he'd recovered and she still lay there in that evil sleep was the first week in his life he'd done anything without her. When he left, he told himself it was to stop her getting hurt again, like she'd been when they tagged along with Mark that time, and been zapped by the perimeter defences of that place when they found out Mark had been up to the tricks he'd sworn blind he'd stopped again. Now he wondered if part of him enjoyed this forced seperation. "Honestly?" Garth's reply was in a similar tone. "Honestly, I didn't want you getting hurt again." Ella's face looked like she wanted to give him a thousand replies, very few of them nice. But instead, she turned and walked towards the showers without another word, leaving a crestfallen Garth to stare at where she'd stood. Realising that he'd missed her, and wondering if she'd ever speak to him again. ____________
After the Ella and Garth show, things were a bit strained between everyone except the Kline brothers. Trinity-Orange checked on Garth, while her other selves tried to make small talk, with only moderate success. Brainy sat in a seat the whole time, trying and failing to make himself go over and talk to Andromeda. A fact not lost upon the Trinities for later use
"You'll have to come and visit me when that tyrant gives you a minute off, you realise," Cos smirked as they left. Before Paul replied, he had to bite back the impulse to correct Cos on Mr McCauley, and wondered where that came from... "No problemo bro. See you around," waving goodbye as the Legionnaires walked off to their jet. Ella, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight.
[ May 28, 2004, 09:51 AM: Message edited by: Sanity or Madness? ]
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
The Workforce were quick, clean and efficient. 5 seconds after entering, the team's telepath had already disoriented everyone in the room, quickly followed up by another member quickly disarming anyone with a weapon, some literally. As if from nowhere, another member appeared, wrecking the computers in the process. Finally, the team leader swiftly assassinated every non-Workforcer in the room, starting from the most important downward. None of them had particularly enjoyed it.
Mano replaced his right glove, sealing the hand that murdered for McCauley in the silver sheath of Inertron. He looked around at "his" team. Micro was already yapping on to no-one in particular and Tellus, the misshapen telepath the size of a large dog slumped into a corner. But Wolf, who looked more lupine every time Mano saw him, seemed to be reacting unevenly. He wondered what demons rattled inside that skull at what this "Covert Workforce," McCauley's 'deniable' team were made to do.
------------------
Nothing seemed quite right in Brian's head. There was a girl, a girl got him into this, he was relatively certain about that, but how and why no amount of headstrain could bring within range of his waking mind. He didn't use to look like this, did he?
One thing was sure, even if he didn't know why, he was enjoying himself now.
______________________
Tikhik's condition had only improved slightly in his time in Australia. While he was as physically fit as his insectoid body would allow, his ability to teleport had been seriously compromised by the immense strain involved in teleporting some thirteen and a half thousand kilometres - around 8400 miles! As things stood, he could only open "gates" wide enough to teleport a garden pea. In his panic to get as far away from McCauley as he possibly could, he had lost any advantage that may have come from immediate exposure.
He would have to think of some way out of this... ______________
The insect problem.
It was no longer an active source of worry for McCauley - it had been over a month since it had escaped, and no trace of it's teleport signature had been picked up by the McCauley Ind. satellites in all that time.
Objectively, it was dead. But Leonard McCauley wouldn't rest until he had it's head above his fireplace...
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
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