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Winter 2021 

 

The interview location had not been the Patriot's idea. Showing the Christmas lights of the reclaimed Ashton Community Center behind her, symbolizing a city's victory over the Terminus and the holiday season, was certainly festive and even appropriate for the brand-new Danger News Network's interview with the Patriot. But the air here still felt wrong, buzzing with alien energies and danger, and it had her on edge as she paced the small trailer where she was waiting for her interview to start. Her makeup was done, her costume was on, and Daisy her night assistant was doing her best to keep both of the former under control. Daisy was a Claremont alum too, a flighty blonde who had gotten into some serious trouble after she'd left the school, but damn if she hadn't already proven her efficiency running the evening shift. It was the evening shift now; cold enough in the New Jersey darkness that the Patriot's interviewer was probably going to be dressed to his or her best. "I still can't believe they switched out interviewers at the last damn minute," Ashley was grumbling. "I knew we should have gone with an established network." 


"It'll be fine," said Daisy warmly, smiling with her darkly painted lips. In her drab brown pullover and skirt, she practically blended in with all the DNN staffers scuttling about outside as they made sure the lights were on and the season festive outside. "Making friends with the Dangers is good business in Freedom City, even if they do make life more complicated sometimes." She shook her head, checked her buzzing phone, and said, "Listen, I just got a text that the new interviewer is here. I'll go get them, bring them here, and then you can check them out for yourself before you start. You're going to do fine," she added, leaving Ashley sitting in the trailer's swivel chair. 

Ashley took out her own phone to make sure her sister was watching the show tonight, and Daisy headed out into the chill to see if she could spot the new interviewee, making sure to take frequent sips from the heated, sealed mug she was carrying so that her breath would stay foggy warm outside. 

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Horrorshow

 

"Wait, what?!," Davyd blurted out in response to the bombshell the producer had just laid on his feet.  "I thought I was here just to tag along, to see how it's done, before I dive in.  My first interview was to be next month!"

 

Morgana Brink, a heavyset Danish woman chomping on a cigar, shrugged.  "What can I say, kid, things change, and you'd best be willing to go with the flow.  You can do that, yeah?"

 

"Can I," he sputtered, indignation smothering his trepidation.  He yanked the microphone off the table and stormed off towards the makeshift stage, muttering to himself.  "Can I go with the... I'll show them how I can..."

 

His form shifted with each step, hair extending to shoulder length and lightening to a strawberry blonde, skin going a bit darker, features softening.  Of course, if I screw this up, I can at least do so while wearing another face, so it won't come back to haunt me later in my career.

 

Daisy saw a determined woman striding towards her, microphone in hand.  Mid- to late-twenties, wearing a long grey wool coat over a simple blue pantsuit.  "Is she ready?," the woman asked, in a vague Eastern European accent.

 

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Daisy took her straw out of her mouth and eyed the new arrival suspiciously. Daisy herself looked a little too young to be the Patriot's secretary but her ID had put her at close to thirty; and plenty of people in the superworld didn't look their own age. "Hi, I'm Daisy Gibbons, I'm the night manager around here," she said with a sharp smile that seemed just a little wide to Davyd's actor's eye. "They didn't give us your name," she said, taking Davyd's hand in a cool grip. "The Patriot is inside." Standing in front of the door to the Patriot's trailer, she seemed to be waiting for Davyd to introduce 'herself' before a voice from inside called 

 

"It's fine, Daisy, let her in!" With a faint sigh, Daisy smiled tightly and opened the door, admitting Davyd into the company of an already-costumed Patriot. 

 

Ashley hesitated at the sight of the new arrival for just a moment, already standing by her makeup mirror as she fastened her gear around her armored torso, then said, "Hi. Guess I don't need to introduce myself, do I?" Her handshake was very firm. 

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Horrorshow

 

"Olivia," the interviewer replied to Daisy, "Olivia Dobrhora.  Oh!  You have good grip," she said approvingly, "but your hand is like Russian autumn!  You should go inside, get warmed up, yes?"

 

Daisy likely noticed something unusual -- while Olivia's heartbeat was a strong and steady as any she'd encountered, her breath, like her own, did not fog in the chilly winter air.

 

The interviewer was still looking to Daisy as she entered the trailer, and so did not lay eyes on her subject until she felt the firm handshake.  As she turned to face the Patriot, her eyes widened and smile dropped for half a moment...

 

OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP WHAT NO NO KEEP IT TOGETHER THIS MUST BE PART OF SOME TEST

 

... but she quickly snapped back to her professional face.  "No, no introduction needed," the interviewer laughed, excitedly returning the handshake, "and after tonight, everyone will know the new Patriot, yes?  So," she looked over to the DNN camera, "you prefer to do this sitting, or standing?"

 

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Daisy fixed her gaze on Olivia, silent as her boss talked with the reporter, seemingly oblivious to her true identity.

 

"Sitting is fine," said Ashley equitably, "that little stage the crew was setting up outside sounds fine." The Patriot sounded not so much annoyed or bored at the effort expended on her behalf - but fatigued. She reached over and pulled her jacket off the rack, the badges on the front clinking a little; the latest one revealing itself to be the face of Patricia Danger, a rare Danger family symbol that didn't constitute any sort of corporate endorsement from a US government employee. "So, this must be high-pressure for you," she said conversationally. "Am I supposed to be a lowball for the new girl, or did they throw you in with the sharks your first week?" 

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Horrorshow

 

"More the latter," the interviewer replied with a smile, "but, please, do not hold back on my account!  With, ah, with that being said," she withdrew her hand from Ashley and pulled out a small notepad from one of her coat's pockets and flipped it open with a thumb, "I want to make sure I'm doing this right, covering everything that should be covered.  So," she tucked the microphone under one arm, used her other hand to fish a pen from another coat pocket, and began making a few marks on the pad, "is there anything in particular you want to make sure we cover?  Or, ah, anything that is off-limits for this interview?"  She looked up at Ashley, all smile and warmth.

 

And now the delicate art of balancing what the interviewee wants to tell with what the interviewer -- and audience -- wants to know.

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"No politics, no religion, no endorsing corporations - not even your boss," said Ashley with a little humor in her voice. "I don't want people saying the Patriot told them this or the Patriot told them that. That's garbage."

 

"And nothing about her identity," said Daisy smoothly, with perhaps a bit more polish than her boss. "She's happy to discuss her biography and personal life in general terms," getting a nod from the Patriot at that. "But her identity is confidential." 

 

"Honestly, I don't really have anything to add besides what you people already have in your files," said the Patriot, "I'm just here so people can see I'm not some stupid poseur." 

 

"If you still need a minute," Daisy offered her boss, "I can walk with Ms. Dobrhora out to where they're shooting." Once they were outside of the trailer, and notably out of eyeshot of anyone else, Daisy put her cold hand on Olivia's. 

 

"Listen, Olivia," she said, her tone suddenly sharpening like a knife. "I don't know what your story is, but I have worked very, very hard to get this job, and if you do anything to hurt my boss tonight, I am going to eat you alive." She smiled as the Patriot came out of the trailer behind them. "And that's a promise." 

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Horrorshow

 

"Of course, of course," the interviewer replied, smiling and nodding at their words.  "I'll try to leave things open-ended, so you can share as much as your comfortable with.  I'm sure the audience would prefer to hear directly from the new hero," she nodded, "rather than some reporter telling them about the new hero.  Ah, heroine."

 

At Daisy's threat-promise, Olivia showed little reaction (of course her assistant is intense), keeping up her smile, and even patting the assistant's hand.  "I certainly respect your drive, Ms. Gibbons," she locked eyes with the assistant, wondering where he'd seen that look before, "and I would like to assure you that I have no intention of causing your boss any harm.  Freedom's citizens love their heroes, and I'm honored to introduce them to one of their newest."

 

She turned to the approaching Patriot and held up her microphone, "ready when you are!"

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And so it was that the brand-new symbol of American patriotism sat down opposite the brand-new DNN reporter for their first televised interview. This was by no means the general public's first look at the new Patriot, of course, but it was the first live interview she'd ever given. Ashley did her best to relax, making eye contact with Daisy through the helmet's eyepieces to reassure her that everything was all right, but it wasn't easy. But reassuring someone else actually helped Ashley herself stay cool, memories of Judy and her other sisters in her mind.

 

Luckily she had been trained at composure from an early age by some very good teachers, so when the cameras came on and the AD gave the signal that they were rolling, she was a poised, cool professional, sitting with her hands on her lap and a steaming cup of hot coffee close at hand. 

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Horrorshow

 

"Thank you for joining us," the interviewer addressed the camera once she got the green light, professionally calm and even, her accent much subdued.  "I'm Olivia Dobrhora, with the Danger News Network.  With me tonight is one of the country's newest heroines," she inclined her head towards Ashley, "though we were lucky enough to catch her here in Freedom.  Welcome, Patriot."

 

She gave Ashely a moment to respond before continuing, "now, to be clear, that is just Patriot, yes?  Not Miss Patriot, or Ms. Patriot?"  Olivia's face carried a look of genuine curiosity and desire for clarification, with no hint of malice.  "Your predecessor went simply by Patriot, too, though he was active in... a different time."

 

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"If my predecessor pops back up and calls himself Mister Patriot, we'll talk," said Ashley with a faint smile, making an implied promise she knew from personal experience she would never have to keep. "But right now there's only one Patriot." She sipped her tea, thinking about the terrorist-imposter who had already claimed that name for himself. Well it wasn't like they could sue him for copyright infringement given the legal trouble the former government metahuman was already in.

 

Okay, so far, so good...she thought to herself. 

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Horrorshow

 

'Olivia' grinned, "well, I doubt that will happen anytime soon, but if so, I hope I'm there for it!  It does raise the question, though," the interviewer leaned forward, and while her grin had faded, her voice remained pleasantly calm, "of why you chose to do this, and under the name 'Patriot.'  There are always those curious as to why public servants -- from educators and firefighters to costumed superheroes -- do what they do.  Why not go for, say, a more traditional law-enforcement position?  Or go into professional sports?  From what I've seen, you could clean up in the MMA circuit!," she said with a light chuckle.

 

Slow and steady, don't rush things, Davyd reminded himself.  Start broad, keep things light, get them comfortable, then go in for more details.

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Because they killed my father in cold blood for no reason at all. 


Because otherwise a goddamn neo-Nazi was going to run around wearing the flag. 

 

Because somebody had to do it. 

 

"I did work in traditional law enforcement for a number of years before taking this position," said Ashley evenly, not saying anything she hadn't said in previous interviews. "I'm classified as an agent of the...US Secret Service when acting as the Patriot." It was a masterful bit of hiding in plain sight, especially with the slight hesitation, if Ashley did say so herself - no one who would be likely to go looking for the Patriot's true identity would think that she was just an actual Secret Service agent before turning superhero. 

"As to why I have this particular job - " She considered her response, then said: 

 

"When my grandmother was...oh, about the same age I am now, she showed up for work at her father's store and found men from the government putting people in trucks. They were rounding people up for work camps in the jungle, and because they were Chinese and because they owned a business, her family was on the list. She never saw her father or my great-uncles again." She sipped her tea again, thinking of  "Bà-ma"'s stories about the Old Country and how her father had made sure she learned every single one of them. "My father was born on a boat trying to get to Indonesia about a year later. This country took in my family and gave them a home, gave them a place, where they never had to worry about a knock at the door again. That's...one of several reasons why I'm the Patriot." 

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Horrorshow

 

Daaang... okay, okay, get it together.

 

That little revelation seemed to have stunned Olivia, who was silent for a good five, six seconds.  "Well, your outfit is certainly snazzier than the black wool suits that most Secret Service agents seem to wear!," she finally replied with a nervous chuckle.  "Are those suits government-issued?  Is your gear government-issued?  Or did you have to provide that yourself?  I'm sure our viewers would be especially interested in that shiny thing there," she gestured towards the bright gold laser pistol at the Patriot's hip.

 

I'm sure she wouldn't want me asking too much more about her family.  Maybe just focus on the job and her gear, for now.  I'm sure I can get some interesting responses from her on those.

 

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"Everything I wear is the property of the US government, with a little help from some of our friends in the super community," she said, which was all certainly true enough. "I know there are people who ask questions about this," she added. "I'm about to draw my weapon." She drew her sidearm and laid it down on the table between them, then said, "There are people who think it sends the wrong message for a superhero to carry a gun."

 

She hesitated for a moment, sorting out her thoughts, then said, "I respect guns. I grew up around them; I've been carrying one on and off for ten years now. This weapon is here to protect other people and myself from the kinds of metahuman threats that don't respond to a few kind words and aren't interested in negotiation." It was mostly hippie nonsense to say otherwise if you asked Ashley, but that was definitely not a conversation she wanted to have on national television. "You can't always assume somebody in a cape is going to fly down and save the day." 

 

"Not everyone has superpowers or access to a superhero. I can't make energy swords and I can't stop bullets with my bare skin. What you see is what I am," which was technically true if you could look closely enough to see metahuman DNA, anyway. "That's why I carry a gun." She picked up her weapon, went through demonstrating for Olivia how she checked to make sure no energy cells were currently active, then stored it again at her waist. 

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Horrorshow

 

'Olivia' nodded silently as Patriot spoke, and thanked her for the care she was showing with the 'firearm'.  (Davyd had handled a few prop guns before, and had a healthy respect for all weaponry.)

 

"Well, you clearly know your way around your gear," the interviewer said at last, "but I'm sure there are some who might -- who have -- questioned your... qualifications for this role."  Her smile remained, but her voice began taking on just a hint of an edge.  She held up one finger, "you're a woman in a traditionally male-dominated field."  A second finger went up, "an Asian-American working for a government that has had... rough relations with its Asian-American citizens in the past."  A third finger went up, "and you are a non-powered individual working among superpowered beings."  She dropped her hand, laying it across her lap, "have you faced much discrimination?"

 

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Ashley made a small noise that was almost a laugh. "Yeah," she said, "I have." 

 

She wondered if Olivia was expecting to hear about school hallways, police department locker rooms, or the rarified world of the Freedom League itself - knowing all the while she'd never say a damn word about those places. 

 

"But I'm here, right?" she added philosophically. "I'm a damn superhero for pity's sake. So I can't complain. Whatever stories I have, I know other people out there have it worse." She considered a moment, then said, "That's why I want people to know. I'm Vietnamese-American, I'm a police officer, I'm bisexual, I'm a woman; and I'm here, wearing these colors. There is no country in the world where somebody like me could exist except this one, and I'm proud to be fighting for us." 

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Horrorshow

 

The interviewer's eyes widened ever-so-slightly at Patriot's mention of her sexuality, but made no other reaction.  "Well, I'd say that's a perfect spot for a quick break," she pivoted to face the camera, "please stay tuned, we'll be right back for more of my interview with the Patriot."

 

The light atop the camera flickered off, and people immediately flocked to the two women, touching up hair and makeup.  "You're doing great," Olivia said between sips of water, "and, again, thank you for agreeing to do this."

 

So far, so good.  Kinda surprised Morgana hasn't said anything, though, 'Olivia' thought, checking her earpiece and looking around for the producer.

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Daisy landed on her back, hard, when the thick-necked costumed freak who'd dragged her away from the other hostages threw her down inside the broadcast trailer's small enclosed office. He was big and strong, with a body-builder's physique and a colorful outfit like a circus strongman "Mouthy #)@," he opined. "You should have just stayed quiet!" 

 

Daisy smiled at him and hissed. "You have no idea. Close the door." And he did. 

 

-

 

Outside in the rest of the broadcast trailer, the other hostages had been suitably cowed by Daisy's seeming fate. "Now if anyone else wants to be a hero, get in line and wait your turn," said the hard-faced man with the automatic rifle who was the leader of the small group of regular mercenaries holding the broadcast hostage. "The rest of you, shut up and keep the feed going!" And sure enough, the feed came back on just as Ashley was saying 


"Wasn't exactly my idea. But somebody's got to look the Patriot in the-" 

 

 

The Patriot and her interviewer had time to put their guard up when suddenly a figure landed between them, a black armored paragon with a lightning symbol on his chest and cape waving in the air behind him. "People of America!" he declared, pointing right at the cameras. "Your real protector - OVERMAN - is here!" 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Horrorshow

 

A string of curses, in English and Ukrainian, sped through Davyd's mind, though outwardly he managed to maintain the image of Olivia the young new reporter.  Okay, do I try to distract this Overman and give Patriot an opening?  Or do I slip away while he focuses on the cameras, and on Patriot?  Argh, this is one time some Grue telepathy would really come in handy!  

 

The interviewer stood, microphone still in hand, using her other to smooth out her pantsuit.  "Well, this is a surprise!"  Keep him talking for now, find out what we can.  "Overman, was it?  I don't recall seeing your name on my roster for this week, but I'm nothing if not adaptable.  So, please, tell us a bit about yourself."

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

"You..." Overman looked around, then laughed scornfully, arms crossed across his chest. "Overman might have known that so-called Patriot would flee." He smiled perfect white teeth down at Olive and declared "I am glad you asked! OVERMAN's story is an astounding one! 'Formed from magic clay by the chief Sorcerer-Scientist of a doomed and dying alien world, Overman was sent off-world to spread Over-values to other worlds and bring them the peace and prosperity Overman's own enjoyed. Crash-landing in a secret government project facility in a farm in the place you call...Kansas," he added, hesitating slightly, "Overman was raised by the scientists there. They injected Overman with a "Super Soldier Serum," designed to bring a human to peak physical perfection, in the hopes of giving Overman a more humanoid form, which it did!" he added, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself of that very thing. 

 

"Sadly, OVERMAN became more and more rebellious in Overman's teen years as Overman's alien hormones raged, and finally escaped in a wild rage, though in so doing Overman! was exposed to radioactive waste and lost his vision!" He shook his head, face wrought with great tragedy. "Blind and half-crazed, Overman was found by another crashed alien, who bestowed upon him a Power Ring," and sure enough when Overman raised his left hand, there a verdergris band was glowing, "knowing the supercomputer in the ring could calm and soothe OVERMAN and allow him to focus his will enough to use it and do great deeds!"

He waved his ringed hand in the air. "The ring had been damaged in the crash, though; it was able to soothe OVERMAN, and teach him to use his other radiation-enhanced senses to serve as a replacement for his vision, but that was all. Able to think clearly (and for himself), OVERMAN made his way across the world, helping others where he could, always trying to stay one step ahead of the secret government project that wanted him back!" Overman nodded, hand to his perfectly sculpted chin.

"Overman eventually fled to the isolated Himalayas, where he found the Ancient One, who knew he was coming. The Ancient One took him in and tutored him in magic, sensing a great destiny within him; in his spare time he worked on a personal project, a magical potion that would allow Overman to shrink ()so as to better evade his pursuers) or grow (so as to better fight them). However, the Ancient One's other pupil, a dark-hearted soul, tried to kill OVERMAN by sending summoned hell-spiders after Overman and the Ancient One. As the swarm attacked, OVERMAN's ring lashed out and destroyed the spiders with a blast of weird radiation, but one irradiated arachnid survived long enough to bite him. Overman fell ill for a time, but later awoke and found he had the proportional powers of a spider!" Overman demonstrated this by firing a blast of white fluid from his wrist towards the nearby camera. "Alas, his salvation cost him the Ancient One's life -- the Ancient One had taken much of the venom into himself, and his frail body would not take the strain. With his dying breath, the Ancient One taught Overman his final lesson, a magical word of immense power."

 

He struck his chest and declared boldly, "And that was not the end of Overman's story!"

 

-

 

From her position behind the set, flat on the ground against the snow, the Patriot stayed out of view of the obviously frightened camera crew and took a moment to mouth What the ever-loving f*ck before she tried reaching out with her power, the innate ability she had to connect with almost everything that was superhuman - and tried feeling for just how powerful Overman was. ...what the ever-loving f*ck?!? she added. 

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Horrorshow

 

... what?

 

"Olivia" smiled and nodded as Overman rattled off his background, "ooh-ing" and "ahh-ing" at appropriate moments.  The interviewer did not have to do much to get him to keep talking, but they sensed something was amiss.

 

This doesn't feel like improv, but doesn't quite feel like a rehearsed bit, either.  It's... it's almost like he's doing Method acting.  But why?  Well, only one way to learn more: pick at those threads.

 

"That is an amazing story, Mr. Overman," the interviewer finally replied, smiling a smile that was only a bit forced.  "So many different and disparate elements, coming together into one unified, powerful whole -- some would say you truly embody America's ideals!  But, you say there's more to your story?  Please, do go on!"

 

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Overman began a tale of woe that seemed as implausible as it was lengthy; one about being kidnapped and surgically altered by agents of the wicked US government, then empowered by solar radiation, then gamma rays from a nuclear test? As Overman spoke, Olivia could see that something seemed to be happening to the stalwart paragon - first a sheen of sweat across his features that might have been produced by studio lights, if they were in a studio, then a gradual seeming shift that might have been imperceptible to anyone else other than a shapeshifter - before suddenly Overman stopped the story and turned to Olivia, visibly now beginning to melt. "I'm sorry," he said distinctly, "they told me that only the Patriot would die; I think you should RUN-" 

 

 

Caught out of position, Ashley heard it as well as anyone else from her position prone in the snow halfway towards the control trailer where she guessed the broadcast crew was being held hostage. She weighed the needs of the many against the needs of the one, and decided that she couldn't leave that poor stupid journalist there to die in her name even if it put her in a bad tactical position. So she bolted to her feet, exposing herself to view from all manner of people, and ran like hell for Olivia and Overman, a badge-shaped shield erupting from around her armored wrist as she bolted for the duo just as Overman's melting body began to expand. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Horroshow

 

That's some bad flop sweat he's got there, "Olivia" thought at first, but quickly realized things were getting much, much worse.  Contain the blast?  No, not sure what type of blast it is, best to get him out of here.

 

The body of the long-legged, blonde, vaguely Eastern European "Olivia" began to expand, too, though this was clearly muscle atop muscle, achieving in seconds what others would require years to achieve.  Her skin, while expanding with her new musculature, was not quite keeping up, making each vein bulge and muscle pop into high definition, and took on a reddish-pink hue.  Even the muscles in her face, at her jaw, swelled, giving her prominent "chipmunk cheeks."

 

Yeouch!

 

The weight of this new muscle seemed to do little to slow her down, though, as she quickly seized Overman with both hands, squatted down, and hurled him directly upward, where -- she prayed -- whatever was happening to him would happen in the middle of the night sky, rather than near any bystanders.

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

The melting paragon hurled upwards into the air and imploded with the sound of rushing air, darkly radiating as if the unfortunate man had briefly transformed into a black hole. There was a definite feeling of suction at ground level as papers, loose items, and bits of debris went hurtling up towards the brief singularity before suddenly it vanished in a single pop of light. What the - the Patriot took the time to mouth before she faced off with the shapeshifter who had been her interviewer, gun still in her hand. Unlike quite a few people in Freedom City, she knew, Ashley actually did not have a very high opinion of the Grue who talked a good game about redemption - but she'd also seen the shapeshifter intervene to get the suicide bomber out of everyone's way or maybe just its way ; and she wasn't about to start a fight when there were other enemies around. He kept talking - he must have had people in the broadcast trailer...

 

At the end of the day, she also knew something about being in the closet at work. So she stared at the hulking Olivia, gun lowered but still ready, and growled quickly, "Are you with me?" 

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