Interceptors: Liquid Therapy IC

[Gizmo]

Erik snorted and shook his head slightly. "I'm not even touching that one," he smirked. "Besides," he added philosophically, "you can't force a bar fight. Taints the whole experience." The fencer set his glass down on the table. "These things have to occur naturally, develop organically. There's a purity at stake."

[quotemyname]

"I reckon the man's got'a point there." Colt chimed in, taking a long drink from his mug. "A good bar fight's like a work'a art. Ya c'n be itchin' fer a fight all ya want, but there ain't no stoppin' everyone from just vacatin' the buildin' if'n they want." Colt spoke from experience. He'd seen too many bar fights to count before he was even ten years old. "The mood's gotta be right. Like when ya walk in'ta a place'n ya c'n feel the tension." putting his glass on the table, Colt made a gesture with his hands like he was trying to grab the air in front of him.

[Heritage]

At last, Lynn put her head on the table and threw up her hands. "Fine, no starting bar fights! We don't want to mess with the purity of the art form." She lifted her head up and rubbed her face. "So we've ruled out conversation and violence, so what does that leave? That's all we're good at!"

Restless and a little bored, the changeling reached into her coat pocket, and after a bit of fumbling pulled out three action figures, tiny representations of Colt, Grim and Jack. At first glance, they appeared to be plastic, but were actually formed out of wood with silver joint pins (technically the glamoured equivillent, of course), and were highly detailed. She placed them on the table, standing in front of the corresponding hero.

"Okay, change of topic. I think we need to talk to Doc about marketing and stuff; these are obviously just mock-ups I pulled out of my ass, but think about it, guys. How cool would it be to see these on the shelves at Wal-Mart?"

[Gizmo]

Erik poked his tiny simulacrum uncertainly. "Hrm. Only if mine looks nothing like me - in the face, anyway. The last thing I need is to start handing out little shortpacked headshots." Picking the figure up, he moved the arms and legs around experimentally. "Give him a cleft chin or a moustache or something. He need double joints in the knees, too, to recreate my iconic, acrobatic poses." A touch of wryness entered the swashbuckler's tone as he set the toy back down in a traditional fencing stance. "Regardless, I don't think we're so hard up for funds we need to resort to licensing deals."

[Heritage]

"Hrm. Only if mine looks nothing like me - in the face, anyway. The last thing I need is to start handing out little shortpacked headshots." "Give him a cleft chin or a moustache or something. He need double joints in the knees, too, to recreate my iconic, acrobatic poses."

"Ooh, good call! Yeah, that would be bad."

"Regardless, I don't think we're so hard up for funds we need to resort to licensing deals."

Lynn laughed and shook her head. "Hey, who said anything about money? I see exactly two reasons to do something like this." She ticks the points off on her fingers. "One, it's just darn cool. Two, and much more important, is the role model aspect; personally, I would love to see a kid walking to school with a Jack of All Blades lunch box, complete with cleft chin and afro, knowing that his hero is out there doing his best, and setting an example."

She took another sip of her drink, then rubbed her hands together, clearly warming to her topic. "We could donate all profits to charity or something, like a shelter or money to help the families of cops who fell in the line of duty. It would be like Newman's Own, but for toys. Whaddya think, guys?"

[quotemyname]

Colt shrugged. "I'm alright wit'it." Then he shook a finger at Grim. "I reckon there's one condition though. Jack of All Blades needs ta have like thirty-seven different catchphrases." Colt took a sip out of his own drink.

"An' the girls'll fall in love wit' the Grimalkin figurine. On'a count'a the million different outfits it'll come wit." Colt smiled setting is drink down.

Colt formed a mock hand gun with his fingers and aimed into the air with the imaginary iron sights. "What'cha think'a mine shootin' one'a those little plastic things? Oh! An' the coat!" Colt pointed between Jack and himself, "I reckon ours've gotta have coats." Colt smiled, clearly getting excited about the idea.

[Gizmo]

Erik snorted. He'd certainly never considered himself a role model; widespread public acceptance aside, his behaviour was technically illegal and certainly not to be imitated. The acrobat was about to make a snarky joke about being too indie to sell out like that when Lynn mentioned fallen police officers. His grin immediately dropped a notch, though he recovered nearly as quickly, hiding his expression by taking a long pull of his drink. "Yeah, well, it's an idea, anyway," he replied noncommittally as he set the glass back down. Feeling a wave of his recent moodiness washing over him, he smirked and pointed a thumb to the back of the bar. "'Scuse me while I avail myself of the facilities, huh?" Standing up, he sauntered nonchalantly to the washroom, refusing to let his melancholy show in view of his friends.

[Heritage]

"An' the girls'll fall in love wit' the Grimalkin figurine. On'a count'a the million different outfits it'll come wit."

Lynn gets more and more excited as the ideas spill out of her mouth. "And there can be a Brownstone playset! Or no, idiot, it would be an abandoned warehouse playset, or like a disused subway station or something."

"I reckon ours've gotta have coats."

"Yeah, yeah, the plastic kind that you can take off! And you need a little choking hazard hat!"

"Yeah, well, it's an idea, anyway,"

"'Scuse me while I avail myself of the facilities, huh?"

Lynn looked nervously after Erik, chewing on her thumbnail. "Oh no, do you think I hit a nerve? What nerve did I hit? Or am I just being paranoid?" She fluttered her hands. "Gah, I'm overreacting, I'm sure he's fine." Then she smiled and rapped her knuckles on the table. "Okay, I want to see proposals from everyone by this weekend, capiche?"

[quotemyname]

Colt laughed at that. "Yes, ma'am." He smiled, "Reckon I'll have the report on yer desk by 9."

Colt turned to see Jack make his way into the bathroom. Nerve or no nerve. There was something amiss with him. Colt's smile faded as he though about it. "Somethin' ain't right." Colt sipped from his glass. "Reckon I just hope he remembers our little talk. We can't help'em if'n he don't tell us when somethin's wrong."

[Gizmo]

Stepping into the mercifully empty washroom, Erik leaned against a door of stall, crossing his arms and sighing. About five seconds later he realized that he was leaning against the door of a stall in the men's room of a bar and stood straight with a wince. "Well ew," he noted glumly. Looking vaguely upward, the fencer rubbed the back of his head with one hand. Lynn had a point; merchandise based on their heroic identities could likely raise a substantial amount of money for any number of good causes. Still, something about the idea nagged at him.

The swashbuckler had to admit that he possessed a dramatic side, one prone to theatrical displays, but that had always been a release for him, not about impressing an audience. This kind of self-promotion felt like celebrity seeking. He certainly didn't relish the idea of worrying about how his image would effect the next quarter's profits. It was one thing for the Freedom League to sell toys and t-shirts, but a relatively unknown group like the Interceptors?

Then again, maybe he was being selfish, trying to avoid additional responsibility when he should be trying to find new ways he could do good. No, that's not fair, Erik reflected, looking at himself in the mirror over the washroom sink. I can't do everything, and it would be stupid to try. His goal when he took up the identity of Jack of all Blades was to keep his neighbourhood safe. The definition of that 'neighbourhood' had expanded some since then, but the intent behind that vow remained unchanged.

Perhaps one day his exploits would garner attention which warranted a line of sneakers and lunch boxes, but in the meantime he was disinclined to seek them out. His mind made up, he stepped back into the bar.

[Heritage]

Lynn looked up at Erik's approach, and sat up a little straighter on her stool. "Here he comes; okay, thumbs up or thumbs down on the toys and stuff? We won't do it if it's not unanimous. Whaddaya say, dude?" She lifted her own thumb and grinned like an idiotic doll, then signalled for a refill, still maintaining the same creepy smile.

[Gizmo]

Erik snorted lightly at the shapeshifter's comic rictus as he sat down. He was silent for a long moment as he composed his thoughts into words. "I think it's a bad idea," he began frankly. "Don't get me wrong, I think you're right about the us being able to put that kinda money to good use, but if that's what we were about, the Doc coulda just set up a charity or something instead of funding the Underground and everything." Privately the admitted rogue suspected Archeville had his own reasons for forming the Interceptors; the scientist had a reputation as a manipulator and meddler. The thought didn’t bother Erik terribly. Archeville was incalculably smarter than he, and the fencer would simply have to trust the Doktor’s intentions were benign.

"More than that, though, all of the sudden we’d have a ‘business side of things’, see?" he continued. "You get into rights to names and likenesses, which isn’t exactly easy with a secret identity. I don’t want to find out in a couple of years that somebody’s found a loophole in the contract and is charging me to wear my own mask." Erik ran a finger along the rim of his glass absently. "The biggest issue is trust. None of us exactly come off as the ‘shining armor’ type at first glance, and we’re nowhere near well known enough that we don’t have to take that into account. Who’s gonna trust ‘those guys who sell the action figures’ to handle something big or delicate? Hell, to handle anything? Our business is saving lives and stopping bad guys. I say we need to become the best there is at that before we even think about anything else."

[Heritage]

Lynn let her breath out slowly, and then let her head drop down; after a few seconds, she raised it and looked Erik straight in the eye.

"Damn you and your logic; who'd have thought Dread Pirate Roberts would be the most practical one on the team?" She drummed her hands on the table and nodded. "Fair enough; it's was just a crazy idea, but there are more where that came from."

Her new drink arrived, and the young shapeshifter plucked out the little plastic straw and started gnawing on it. "Well, if tomorrow night works for both of you guys, I'm gonna visit Detective Colby later and let her know it's a go; I guess we'll just show up wherever she tells us to, and go from there." She shrugged and took a sip of rum and Coke.

[Gizmo]

Erik shrugged, smirking broadly. "Jack's not; 'Erik' is," he explained enigmatically, his emphasis clearly placing quotation marks around the name he'd chosen to go by in public. The remaining Interceptors were left with a reminder of just how much their swashbuckling teammate kept hidden even from them. "Tomorrow night's fine; I'd just as soon get this over with." Erik rubbed the bridge of his nose, willing a nagging weariness away.

[quotemyname]

Colt had silently sat through Jack's opinions and Grim's complaints. He was originally impartial to the idea, so it was easy for him to give it up so as to not step on anyone's toes. Finally, another drink was delivered to him. He took a sip from the glass of whiskey sour, and set it on the table.

"Tomorrow night's fine; I'd just as soon get this over with." Erik rubbed the bridge of his nose, willing a nagging weariness away.

"Well, barrin' a last minute highway robbery, I ain't doin' nothin'. T'marrow it is." Colt leaned forward and grabbed his glass off the table. "An' on that note, what'a y'all say we ferget all this heavy crap fer the rest'a the night?" Colt raised his glass. "Ta the good times that're too few an' too far between!"

[Heritage]

"Ta the good times that're too few an' too far between!"

Lynn held up a finger as she raised her glass to her lips. "Hey, I'm all for letting the good times roll, but I do have one quick question first: how do we head over to Colby's place tomorrow? Based on chit-chat around the precinct, she lives in a house in the West End. So do we roar up on our space bikes or what?"

[Gizmo]

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Wait, she one of those Colbys? Damn, Lynn, when you get a contact on the force you don't mess around, huh?" The name was a familiar one to the acrobat, who'd grown up on stories from the FCPD. The Colbys had a long history of proud service, but Eric hadn't made the connection until his diminutive friend mentioned the West End. "Well, if she's in the 'End... we could just walk."

[quotemyname]

Lynn held up a finger as she raised her glass to her lips. "Hey, I'm all for letting the good times roll, but I do have one quick question first: how do we head over to Colby's place tomorrow? Based on chit-chat around the precinct, she lives in a house in the West End. So do we roar up on our space bikes or what?"

Colt lowered his glass somewhat dejectedly.

"Well, if she's in the 'End... we could just walk."

"I reckon Jack's right. If'n it's close we should just hoof't. Ain't nothin' like armored vans'n flyin' cycles ta draw attention ta yerself." Colt smirked, thinking up a witty remark on the spot. Jack was rubbing off on him. "We wouldn't want all'a Jack's enemies knowin' he was goin' fer therapy, now would we?" Colt grinned at the table. "NOW c'n we toast?" He re-raised his glass.

[Heritage]

"Wait, she one of those Colbys? Damn, Lynn, when you get a contact on the force you don't mess around, huh?"

Lynn shrugged, apparently unaware of the detective's reputation. "Yeah, I guess so. She seems cool."

"NOW c'n we toast?"

The tiny one sighed and raised her glass. "Fine, I'll toast already! So we just walk up to her door and knock; that's fine by me. I guess I shouldn't have been so flippant, 'cause what I really meant is will 'Erik' here be wearing a mask?"

[Gizmo]

Erik clinked his glass against the other two if only to placate Billy. "You bet your glamoured behind I'll be wearing my mask." A quick swig finished off his drink and he set down the empty cup. "I'm guessing a detective would be able to make the intuitive leap between 'Grimalkin's friend with the wacky sword powers' and everyone's favourite dashing daredevil. Besides, I am known in the community out of costume. I've lived here more than two decades; you tend to meet people."

[quotemyname]

Colt wasn't sure he would ever understand Jack's obsession with his mask. Maybe he wasn't meant to. Jack lived here, and as he said knew people here. Colt had no family in Freedom, and no friends besides those in the hero community. The only thing he needed to protect belonged to other people.

Colt thought these things through as he looked 'Erik' up and down. Who are ya, really? Jack? Erik? 'Er somethin' else?

Colt could only watch as he took another sip of his drink. Maybe I ain't meant ta know.

[Heritage]

"Well then, I'll wear a mask too, as a sign of solidarity...even though I don't think anyone in this town really cares who I am."

Lynn looked around thesmall circle of faces and sighed. "We so need a new membership drive; I'm gettin' bored looking at the two of you every day." She gaved Colt a friendly wink, but her tone did hint at some truth behind her comment.

[quotemyname]

Colt gave Grimalkin a playful push, nearly spilling some of her drink. "Be nice." He wagged a finger at her.

"I reckon yer right, though." Colt concluded taking a sip himself. "How's about Atlas? I reckon we could use a big man like that fella on the team. 'Er a big woman. Fulcrum maybe?" It had been a while since they had sought out new blood. Even longer still if you took that phrase literally. Their last new recruit was entirely robotic. Elektron had only ever made it on to the reserve squad. Electing to stay as a reserve rather than pursue full active duty.

"I reckon a conversation with th' good doctor's'n order."

[Gizmo]

"That's crazy talk," Erik dismissed. "I'm freaking gorgeous."

He rubbed his chin contemplatively. "Actually, I've been giving that some thought. Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way." The fencer gestured to illustrate his point. "Don't get me wrong, we could use some more full timers, but our problem in the first place was that we were trying to get a bunch of people used to working alone to act like old pals. Teaming up when there's a threat is one thing, but off duty?" He shook his head. "Maybe what we should be going for isn't so much a team as, like... a network. Pooling our information and calling in help on a case by case basis."

[Heritage]

"How's about Atlas? I reckon we could use a big man like that fella on the team. 'Er a big woman. Fulcrum maybe?"

Lynn nodded enthusiastically. "I would have no problem with either one of them; well, at least once Fulcrum gets her whole leaky energy problem taken care of, since that's obviously a concern."

"Maybe what we should be going for isn't so much a team as, like... a network. Pooling our information and calling in help on a case by case basis."

The shapeshifter contemplated Erik's suggestion. "That's actually a really good point; I guess there's no reason we can't pursue both, or like start with the network and if someone, y'know, works out well, invite them to the team proper. Yeah, that could definitely work out." Lynn looked at the fencer with newfound admiration. "Y'know it's awful to say this, Erik, but when Doc first brought us all together, I just saw you as a cute butt and a smart mouth; I've never been so glad to be so wrong." She raised her glass in proud salute.