Avenger Assembled

Richard looked on approvingly at Erik's trick. "Hot stuff, buddy, hot stuff!" He reached out and put his hand on Erik's arm and then pointed at the grill, not quite touching the flames. "Now watch this-" For everyone outside the time bubble, it was as if Erik, Richard, Elis, and the flames had burst into hyperspeed - the three men chattering at each other like manic pixies, the flames dancing like a demon on meth, and the steaks and vegetables browning like something from a time-lapse video. For Richard, Erik, and Elis, it was if the world outside their little circle had gone on pause - not quite stopped, but vastly slowed down from the butterfly JJ was chasing to the look on Faretti's face as he turned to his wife. "So," Richard confessed cheerfully, "this is how I spent a lotta time over the years. Different when your kids have speed too, lemme tell you. At least I only have to worry about Holly keepin' up with her ma." He turned to Erik expectantly. "All right, stay in the little bubble here, and you don't suddenly press play into five minutes from now. Let's see what you've got!" - "It's fine," Jack reassured his wife, patting her hand. "I promised I'd be normal, and that means being normal." He smiled, hiding his teeth as he did so. "You can make it up to me later," he offered, leaning close so his breathless voice was in her ear, "by letting JJ visit Cousin Ammy for a bit and going on patrol back home."

Steve wondered if he should tell Talya what he had done in the armies of Omega - then realized she was continuing the conversation, not simply stating facts about herself. That was good - even people who asked did not actually want to hear those things. "There are far more sensitive subjects than this. I would stand atop a beacon and shout it to this world if I thought they would listen." He was silent at that. Or that they would listen too hard. Not for the first time, visions of Jack of all Blades leading the Interceptors in a heroic charge into the heart of Nihilor, and subsequently being flayed alive in a doomforge, swam before his eyes. The images were incredibly detailed - after all, he was intimately familiar with them. Before he could start actually hearing the screaming of his friends as they were tortured to abomination in the fires of Omega, a not uncommon thing when his mind turned to this subject, he abruptly changed it. "I plan to invite my woman to the Interceptors Thanksgiving. You are very socially adept. Do you think that is wise?"

"A doomspectre invaded the city. There was a cult worshiping the Black Madonna some months later that sought to raise their children in her dread worship. There was an attempt to forcibly assimilate the population of a city on the Australian continent. Recently a turncoat Annihilist has taken shelter in the DuTemps Building." The last was still a sore subject, so he skated over the details. "And if I were not myself," he confessed ruefully, "I would mention that there are four Omegadrones living on Earth-Prime - and one of those still loyal to Omega." He traced a pattern against the mat's surface, against the pattern of the fabric. "My suspicions are not shared by many. The great strength of the Terminus is that the sheer scale of its depravity makes the scale of its machinations unbelievable to those born to worlds raised in the light. And the only way to learn that is to be born beneath the red skies of Nihilor - or watch one's world crumble to ash beneath the Doom Coil." He looked back at her. "Forgive me. I do not usually speak so to those I do not know well." He turned and began heading for the weight room to replace the bar

"That evil is done in this world, above all others, is a shame to those who do it." The word shame seem to burn with special intensity as he held the pole at his side. "I hope you do not think I criticize Erik or Christopher. For them, a just struggle is a song and battle a joy - even when they know fear. I lack that...inclination." And the walls dripped with blood and unholy screams echoed from the burning streets outside. He struck the pole against the ground with a thump, then finished turning till he looked at Talya directly. "Forgive me, I...am troubled recently. There has been more Terminus activity in the last few years than in the previous ten - and when that appears once in a world, it will appear again."

"Naw, man..." Riley waited till they were out of the dorm and on the quad, heading for their next target, when he said, "I'm asking if you know anybody who needs to get hooked up." He grinned. "I looked at the chem lab and they're all set up to make sure nobody makes zoom or super-drugs or stuff like that, but they've got enough copper pipes and beakers I can make you whiskey, even beer if I can get the grains. Hell, I figure superhero school can handle a little liquor on the side, right? I don't really partake myself," he admitted, "but you seem like someone who knows where the parties are."

"Yes." He knew of course that a deep part of the words were fundamentally empty - no one who had not survived the streets of Nihilor or seen an invasion brought to its terrible conclusion could understand the true blasphemous depths of what it meant to burn in the heatless, lightless, loveless shadows of Omega. But what would saying such things in the here and now accomplish? No more than they ever had. Silence stretched out between them for a long moment, then another. Steve did not fidget; he did not sway the bar back and forth or otherwise betray the muscular fatigue that even a normal man would. Finally, just when Talya was beginning to think he was going to stare at his reflection forever, he turned and looked at her. "Erik or Christopher would no doubt invite you to spar with them now to remove the tension of the moment. But I find I am troubled by such things. Especially here, in a place like this." It seemed an odd statement to make in the middle of a dojo - until he went on. "In worlds across the multiverse, this world is a paradise beyond reckoning. And yet still the inhabitants of this dimension make wars upon each other, little and great."

Aquaria looked around, desperately trying to remember the sciences classes she had barely paid attention to at Project Freedom. Was this...Mars? Mars was red; the ocean below looked red! Bie Yie took the liberty of answering her hesitation. "When your friend is trained in the use of her chosen weapon, she will be able to transport both of you to your homeworld within a few days," he reassured Jessie. "Your homeworld is remote and diverse - but well within the reach of our wormhole network." "My chosen weapon..." Aquaria looked down at the trident she still held in her hand and concentrated - and the greenish translucent armor that it had formed in her skin gradually faded into nothingness. Naturally, she assumed this was certainly magic. "We could get in a lot of trouble if we're gone," she croaked awkwardly, trying to reassure this very powerful shaman. "Jessie and I, we're-" "I know, Ackwareeaa," Bie Yie told them. "All of us are like you. I was an outcast on my homeworld because I rejected the Thousand Jeweled Gods - a heretic, facing certain execution. If you were chosen, you were chosen because of what you were. Someone hated and shunned by those in power on your world. A monster to their eyes, hated and degraded. The Spectrum Knights are charged with bringing justice to the galaxy - and no one knows justice better than an outcast." "Well..." Aquaria shot a look back at Jessie. "What about Jessie? She's...she really needs to go home, her sister is going to be worried about her." "In time," Bie Yie assured them. "You are not a prisoner here, neither of you - but our enemies are thick beyond the Barrier. Lor, Star Knights, and even Unity would gladly strike us down if they could. Sending you back now, with no knowledge of your weapon and our ways, would only expose you to a greater danger."

"It is a common sentiment expressed by inhabitants of this dimension," agreed Steve. "There are others here on Earth-Prime and they too have been...welcomed by many." He set the pole at his side at parade rest, for a moment mirroring an Omegadrone at rest with its pike. "I do not agree with this sentiment," he said quietly. "What emerges from a doomforge will forever be an Omegadrone - whatever its ability to will. The other purpose of the Caradoc identity was to prevent the, the...welcoming of an Omegadrone in the skies of Freedom City. The terror and violence that my appearance produces is a sensible reaction. I would not have others attempting to negotiate with drones, or free the soul trapped within. That way lies only their destruction." He turned and looked back at Talya. "I would understand if you would choose not to associate with one who has done what I have. I will leave - and Erik need never know why."

"No. I had never visited Earth-Prime before my escape from the Terminus. But there were other worlds." Some people might have called it an unnecessary addition - but it was obviously necessary to Steve. He actually looked away, planting the staff on the ground and looking at their reflection in the mirror. "Whatever crimes you imagine Omegadrones are capable of committing, whatever blood you imagine has been spilled, I have done it all in Omega's name." The words might have sounded like a demented form of bragging if not for the cold shadow of grief that clung to them like fog clinging cold, hard ice. "Erik dislikes that I call myself an Omegadrone. But it is still true. It will always be true."

"I will be glad to join you there." They talked the details of the rendezvous; the time they would depart from the house, how long they would likely stay, what interesting people would be attending the occasion. Steve was content to be Miss Americana's man at such events; it was one way for them to socialize together in a setting where only he felt uneasy - and uneasiness among the humans of Earth-Prime was something he had long since learned to embrace. By the time they'd finished working out the logistics of the situation, Steve realized that they had come all the way back to the front steps. "We made it to our home. Excellent." He said no more than that - knowing that Gina would be tired of conversation outside at this point.

"Yes," said Steve, his voice and eyes serious. It was not a lie - that had been one of the many things Gina Evans had done to learn more about the newest Interceptor. "You have noticed I am not like other men. It is important that those I fight alongside are aware of my true nature - for their safety, and the safety of this dimension." He looked away and added, "And for...ethical reasons." He took the bar and held it in both hands in front of him; unconsciously providing a barrier between himself and Talya. "I am not a knight of Techno-Camelot. That name was crafted for me so that I could move among the people of this dimension without frightening them." He weighed the words in his mind, then spoke them. "I am an Omegadrone."

"You may remain if you wish," said Steve, turning as he rested one end of the heavy pole on the mats at his feet. She watched the composure come - first to the dark face that showed no signs of exertion, then the eyes. "I hope I did not rouse the family upstairs," He thought about what she must have seen, then said, "I am glad to see you, Natalya Browning. I had hoped to speak with you privately."

October 2015 Steve rarely exercised at the dojo. He was far more powerful than the school's equipment could handle - necessitating a special set built for him at Gina's house. Gina liked to watch him work, whether it was lifting weights, testing the strength of his weapon, or running on the armored treadmill. Initially, he had thought it was just a crafter's eagerness to see her new creation - but he now understood that she found it aesthetically pleasing as well. But Gina was busy with a 'raid' with some of her online fellows tonight so he had gone out to roam the city - and found himself at the Espadas School. Having arrived after classes were over, he took a moment to listen for the noise of the family upstairs before he headed for the weights. He couldn't use his armor here - not without having Caradoc appear in the dojo with its unlocked front door, and he would never use his unmasked armor in a place where the Espadas children might see. After a moment's consideration, he settled for the closest approximation. Ignoring the martial equipment on the walls, he headed for the weight-training table. Setting aside the weights, he picked up the heavy steel bar at the center of the weight bench. It weighed 44 pounds. It would do. Holding it as lightly as a normal man would a rattan stick, he began working through a series of katas with the pole; the mixed murder arts of the Terminus in which he had been so thoroughly programmed in ages gone past. The strike at the knees, vulnerable on so many creatures. The blow to the midsection to steal the wind - the bar horizontally across the face to break the teeth and finally the signature devastating move of an Omegadrone, the forward stroke at shoulder height that would tear through a man's face and out the back of his head. It didn't just kill the man. As spikes dug into the back of the skull like fish hooks, increasing the damage as the blade was pulled free, it killed the souls of any who watched. Steve dropped the pole to a rest position and stared at his own haunted face. The other advantage of Gina's basement for exercise was the lack of mirrors.

"Uh, okay," said Riley, evidently not really understanding what the other boy was talking about. "It's just so they'll have something to do. Fred's cute and Matt's an all right guy. He's got a lotta dogs, girls dig dogs. So, uh, speaking of, so do you know anybody who drinks?" he asked Huang quietly as they moved to the other side of the common room, shooting a quick glance around to see if anyone was paying them attention. "Like socially?" He undid a staple noisily before commenting, "Stupid how they put the age at 21 here. You know you can get drafted into the Army but you can't go drink?"

"Friend of mine told me about this great fish place down by the river. We could go there, get some catfish, then hit that old movie theater. They're showing, uh, Everest, that looked pretty cool." He tilted his head as he balanced, figuring that at least it would have nothing to do with Freedom City - everyone would be on an even playing field. Slowly and with great care, muscles in his shoulder straining, he reached back and undid the snaps on his crossbow, catching the weapon one-handed as it came loose. Balancing it on the frame, the still-upside down teen, his arm screaming with the weight he was putting on it, took careful aim at a stretch of cinderblock on a nearby wall of the gym. "Ladies...dig...movies..." He fired the arrow and the flat-headed bolt hit the painted wall right at a joint between two blocks, bouncing off with a faint tink without actually breaking. With a gasp, he rolled onto his feet - and slowly made his way over to retrieve the fallen bolt. "Nice. Hit it straight on."

Initiative: http://orokos.com/roll/334685 = 20 Technology http://orokos.com/roll/334686 = 14 Pretty bad, but there's no reason he'd be familiar with advanced super-tech.

"You're so dashing when you talk Marxism, Joe," teased Nina with a grin his way. "You're like a Communist Errol Flynn. I half-expect you to brandish a hammer and sickle and declare all power to the collective." "Now there's a mental image," commented Mark with a smile as he laid his hand on his girlfriend's. "I've traveled a lot in the last few years and no country's a utopia. But things are a lot better than they were in my dad's generation." He talked about Rick Lucas's travels in the late 1970s and early 1980s, how his father had toured through East Africa and South Asia, living through various civil wars and one major supervillain attack. "Dad always said there was no place like home. But even Freedom City's not perfect." He grinned winningly at the others. "At least, not until we make it perfect."

"Need a neutral," said Richard thoughtfully, before picking out the one father who hadn't joined the conclave. "Hey, Faretti!" he called to Jack, the big man having tried unsuccessfully to lurk quietly in the shade nearby, as if keeping an ear out for the distant drone of far-off bees, or an eye out for sudden impalements from behind. "We need somebody running the taste-test jury who isn't on any of the dad teams here. You up for it?" "...yes, all right," said Faretti from his position under the trees after just a minute's hesitation. "Can you make it rare?" "Rare as they get, buddy!" said Fast-Forward confidently. "He seems like an OK joe." He winked at Erik and said, "You're damn straight I catchphrased you. Bein' a dad's just like being a superhero. Never pass up a chance to make a pun, use a catchphrase, or cook a steak." He took out a coin and said "All right, I'll take thirdsies. You boys wanna call it?" He flipped the penny in the air, turned it over on his wrist, and came up with Erik's call. "Tails! Have at it, buddy."

I'm good for anything. Aquaria does not really understand what's going on or why this is bad.

Aquaria, daughter of the deeps, had no idea what was happening. Was she ascending to Hydra's maw? Had the gods of space called her to their side as their champion? All she knew was that something was coming, something wonderful. So Aquaria swam through the cosmic ocean - rushing through a tunnel dappled with the perfect dark of a night sky in the Caribbean and the comforting glow of stars, the water against her skin cool and inviting. Wait, water? She looked back at Jessie and realized she wasn't drowning - and that come to think of it, there wasn't water actually in the tunnel with them! The green stuff over her skin that clung like a warrior's armor felt coated with warm wetness on the inside - as if it carried with it the warm, brackish waters of a river's mouth, the kind of water in which she felt perfectly at home. I actually like clothes for once! She didn't know what was going on, but she could see the concern on Jessie's face. Without letting go of the trident in her hand, she reached over to Jessie and called, "I'm glad you're with me!" - And then there was another flash of light - and they were standing together somewhere else entirely. The two women, Deep One and human, were standing in the middle of a metal circle set in the middle of soft, mossy ground - moss that looked almost black to both Aquaria and Jessie's eyes. The circle itself sat in the middle of a towering spire of rock at least as big as the DuTemps Building, one that towered high over what looked to be over a vast ocean the color of Surfacer blood! Overhead, Aquaria blinked her eyes as she looked upwards and caught the light of two suns overhead - one a brilliant, eye-searing blue, the other a much smaller red. They weren't alone - a figure in armor like Aquaria's was approaching them. Well, not quite like Aquaria's - the armor itself curved upwards and out in a style unlike anything human, making it look like something between a medieval knight's armor crossed with peacock feathers, and it glowed red rather than green. And the face underneath the armor, blue-skinned with visible white hair, didn't look human either. "Welcome..." He looked from one to the other for a moment, before settling on Aquaria. "...sisters, to the Spectrum Knight Corps. I am Bie Yie - once of Zultas, now of the Corps." "Hello," said Aquaria cautiously, waving her free hand. "Can you tell us where we are?" "Yes," declared Bie Yie, smiling beneath the faint blue screen over his face. He had a weapon as part of his armor too, a long curved sword that hung at his side. "You are at our home planet, Stronghold, deep in the Barrier Sector. Neither Star Knight nor Lor Republic, nor their many allies, can penetrate our defenses." Aquaria stared at the man, goggle-eyed, before saying in a slow, careful voice, "...what?"

"It's beautiful," breathed Aquaria, only half-listening to Jessie as she padded towards the trident. "You should call Erin," she agreed, her gold-black eyes wide as she advanced on the beacon of hope and salvation. "Look at it..." Aquaria looked at the trident for a long moment and then made a fateful decision - even as she heard Jessie dialing the phone behind her, she reached out with long, padded fingers and grabbed the trident tightly with her right hand. As Jessie watched, the trident suddenly flared to brilliant life in her friend's grip, a glow so bright that Aquaria raised a hand to shield herself from the brilliant green glow that briefly dazzled her darkness-adjusted eyes. In the glow, the two women heard a voice, one that croaked in a deep, vibrating tone like someone speaking underwater. For Jessie, the voice was in English - for Aquaria, in Lemurian, but both heard the same words, even as Aquaria felt strange, eldritch energies crackle over her damp skin, like the oldest and deepest of the catacombs in her long-lost home. "Ackwareeaa In-His-Mouth! You Are Worthy! Welcome to the Spectrum Knight Corps!" As the light faded, Jessie caught a glimpse of her friend changed - clad in a glowing green shell that covered her torso and legs and the back of her head like an ancient helmet and suit of armor - and then the light flared again, impossibly bright, and when it cleared the kitchen was empty.

"I'm sorry, Jessie, I didn't mean to startle you...no?" Her apology - and her disengagement interrupted, Aquaria turned and stared at the still-glowing light. "Do you smell that?" she asked, her voice still thick as she took a tentative hop towards the kitchen. "That smells like..." She took another hop into the kitchen. Knowing that she'd already pushed her fragile friend to the limit that day, Aquaria didn't yell. Instead, after a moment's hesitation, she swallowed and called, "Jessie? I think you should come in here now." Hovering in the middle of their kitchen was a trident. And not just any trident. It was long and thick, made of rough-worked metal like wrought iron. But it glowed with an inner light in a shade of pale green that seemed almost perfectly matched the color of Aquaria's skin, for all that it was mostly obscured by one of her many white shirts and jeans. "Blessed Sire and Dam," Aquaria croaked softly at the sight of the holy symbol - one tine for Dagon, who protected, one tine for Hydra, and the center for their children - the Deep Ones of Earth. "Where did it come from?"

September 2015 Target sentient detected. Subspecies - homo aquaticus diaboli. Aquaria was still standing in front of the television when Jessie burst into the living room - her eyes wide and hands clapped over her mouth as she stared at the television - and the broken remains of the cheap porcelain mug that Aquaria had hurled through the screen, breaking glass and cup both. "I'm sorry Jessie, I'm sorry," said Aquaria, waving her hands back and forth. "I didn't mean to scare you-" Subspecies is targeted for extermination by other sentient subspecies on native planet. Subspecies is heavily influenced by worship of beings from other frames of reference. "It was the King of Atlantis and he was talking about how they had broken up an 'infestation' of Deep Ones just because it was near a Surfacer city! And they showed pictures, Jessie, they showed pictures!" She turned to Jessie and clutched at her friend, her hands sticky and throat bulging with frantic emotion. "They were going to-" Target exhibits grief and rage compatible with Spectrum Knight primary mission. Secondary target present with primary target - prepare backup protocols for Berserker-class target. Activating transportation from lunar orbit. "-that whole tribe is going to starve in the deep ocean now!" Jessie remembered Aquaria's stories about the death of her tribe - how thrown from their brackish home into the deep waters of the Caribbean by Surfacer and Atlantean attack, most had slowly succumbed to salt poisoning, or cold, or starvation before finding their way to a Deep One city far below the surface. "And no one's going to care! Not one Surfacers going to do anything! All because Atlanteans told them it's okay! I hate them! I hate them so much!" She buried her face in Jessie's shoulder and began to sob. And over Aquaria's shoulder, Jessie saw a faint light suddenly glow from their kitchen.

"Come now, ma petite," said Magritte as she slid her long, manicured fingers over Steve's muscular torso. He didn't shudder - his body was perfectly rigid as he stared balefully at the shadow-witch. "The Master is the most powerful man on Earth. He can be a wonderful friend. And so can I," she added, breathing into his ear. They were alone now in the steel-gray room - the 'Master' had left minutes earlier, and there was nothing but Steve's half-naked body, the woman pressing herself against him, and the chains, far harder than tempered steel, that held him in place. Her touch was as unpleasant as if crawling carrion eaters had been dumped on his skin - worse, because those at least were simply hungry animals. This was a living being choosing to torture another - so when she leaned close for his response, Steve whispered back what seemed like a serious question. "Tell me, are all practitioners of obtenebration-" She read his tone and stepped back, a snarl on her face as black lighting tore from her fingers and suddenly played along Steve's body, the jolting force burning his nerves and pulling his muscles tight, teeth clenching shut with the force of spasmodically stimulated muscles. But he would not writhe, no, he would give this petty torturer no such satisfaction. Instead he stared, balefully and silently at her, a rock beneath the crashing waves of shadow, even as pain pulled at his muscles and skin like fire crackling along his metal bones. - "No, good lady, the head of the monster is where the head himself stays - the Master and his Four." Achille spat on the ground before continuing. "They tried to call themselves angels and the Master the Son of God returned - as if we are stupid sheep to be led by any man with a glowing cross. I know vassals when I see them - and a false Messiah. We have seen enough of those." He looked at Erik at that, evidently taking his story about being a fellow defector at face value - for now. "Our loved ones are held in the mines below and the shacks outside, including my brother's wives and my own adopted daughter. The so-called Master and his Four, it is they who make the lizards - the bones are dug up, delivered to the vessel, and within a day they exit through the rear there. He has some...twenty of those, I believe." "More in yon valley," said Etienne with a nod towards the ample mountains that lay beyond the mine. "And all of them with arms enough to walk into Paris at dawn and eat the Emperor by sunset." "Well," said Achille with the smile of a man who smiles to cover his own concerns, "with our new friends, we can make sure that does not happen. We would have rushed the place ourselves, but we are but two and there are some fifty men in the vessel itself - and fifty more holding our loved ones in chains. My brother and I are no ordinary men, but with their repeaters, their numbers would tell every time."

"Oh," said Steve thoughtfully, listening to Ellie's words and blushing lightly along his scars. "My apologies," he said quietly. "That does explain why Erik looked that way when I asked...n-never mind." He was obviously embarrassed - but didn't look crushed the way he would have when he had first met the Espadases. He fell silent, listening to the interplay about secrets from the others and choosing to say nothing for a while. Erik had offered him a place in this family but it was not his own - neither the one lost to Nihilor, nor the one he had built in the home of Gina Evans. It was not his place to tell any of them how to live. But at the same time - it had raised a guilty point with him, especially if Bombshell was to fight at his side. Quietly, he spoke, "We need to speak on that subject, Natalya Browning. But on another occasion."