[center][sub][h1][img]https://i.postimg.cc/MZnCKZnz/qheader.png[/img]
[b][color=black] T H E  Q U E S T I O N[/color]
[color=skyblue]T H E  Q U E S T I O N[/color][/b][/h1][/sub]
[sub][h2][b][color=black] I S S U E  # - 1[/color]
[color=skyblue]I S S U E  # - 1[/color][/b][/h2][/sub]
[sup][h3][b][color=black] O V E R T U R E[/color]
[color=skyblue]O V E R T U R E[/color][/b][/h3][/sup]
[sup][color=skyblue][i]Fourteen months ago.
Charles Victor Szasz has sixty-three days to live.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
[b]"Vic, I'm not telling you to scrap the whole article, I'm just telling you that you [i]need[/i] to change the title. Maybe ease up a bit, cut some parts out. We can't go around slandering the mayor,"[/b] Oscar says. He's been pleading with me to change the contents of my article for a few days now. At first it was just some contention over the title, but now he was finding issues with the contents of the article itself. It was annoying having to deal with him in the past but now? Now I'm at my damn limit with his shit.

Time to put an end to this.

[color=skyblue][b]"You hear about how I got fired from the Gazette, Oscar?"[/b][/color] I ask, leaning back in my office chair and crossing my arms.

[b]"Uh... What?"[/b]

[color=skyblue][b]"You wanna know how I got fired?"[/b][/color]

[b]"Um. Okay. How?"[/b]

I give him a small smile. [color=skyblue][b]"Because my editor didn't let me have total control of my article's contents and so I kicked his teeth down his throat and watched him choke on them."[/b][/color] His eyes go wide at that. I turn away from him and look at my computer. [color=skyblue][b]"And then I kept beating on him until the cops got here and it took four of them to pry me off of him. Have I made my point, Oscar?"[/b][/color]

[b]"Y-yes..."[/b]

I smile a little wider at that. I click the little blue submit button in the email box. [color=skyblue][b]"Good. Just sent you the final draft, took all of your notes into account. The ones I cared about anyway. Go put it through, I want it up on the site first thing tomorrow morning."[/b][/color] I turn back to Oscar, smiling. He looks like he's about to shit himself.

[b]"... S-sure thing, Vic."[/b] Oscar walks away, shivering slightly. I turn my attention back to my computer screen. "Mayor Fermin: Incompetent, Ignorant, or Insidious?" is the title of my latest work. I'm sure it'll keep Myra and the rest of Wesley's PR team busy for a few weeks. Someone needs to light a fire under Fermin's ass. The man's been in his position for a few months now and not a damn thing has changed for the better; crime rates at an all time high, no solution to the homeless epidemic, public infrastructure in shambles, and that's discounting the fact that he's in bed with the mob...

Okay, not a [i]fact[/i], not [i]yet[/i] at least. Maxwell Bine getting released early from his six year stint in prison so soon after Fermin came into office? Not a coincidence in the slightest, I'm sure of it. I'm going to find proof and my new friend, the Faceless Inquisitor, is going to help me.

... The name is a work in progress.

[center]---[/center]
[center][sup][color=skyblue][i]Charles Victor Szasz has sixty-two days to live.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
When I wake up the next day, my phone has a few hundred notifications. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and grin as I read them. Looks like the Hub City Gazette is trending right now, at least in Illinois. People are going nuts over this article, taking sides for and against Mayor Fermin. Couple of death threats here and there but that's to be expected on Twitter.

I've almost finished reading all the discourse when I get a text.

[hider=Myra 💜]
[color=thistle]We need to talk.[/color]

[right][color=skyblue]k. about what[/color][/right]

[color=thistle]I think you know what about, Vic.[/color]
www.hubcitygazette.com

[right][color=skyblue]oh that. dont worry about it lol[/color][/right]

[color=thistle]Do you really think I'm going to ignore you slandering my brother?[/color]

[right][color=skyblue]yeah[/color][/right]

[color=thistle]You are such a child. Meet me at Ceilo's Cafe in Hupert Square at noon. We are going to talk about this.[/color]

[right][color=skyblue]see you there babe[/color][/right]
[/hider]
I get up and out of bed and practically skip my way into the shower. Things were finally looking up for me. Getting the recognition I deserve, Fermin under public scrutiny for the first time since he came into office. It was like a dream come true. And the look on Myra's face when she finally realizes her brother is the biggest piece of shit to ever take public office in Hub City? That's gonna make my day.

When I got to Ceilo's, Myra had a window table all to herself, waiting for me. I took a moment to admire her figure. Once we got this all sorted out, we were gonna just head back to my place and have a nice night to ourselves. Our arguments always went that way. 

I take a few more steps forward. Her smile shifts to a scowl when she sees me. [color=skyblue][b]"Myra,"[/b][/color] I say, sliding into the chair across from her. I smirk at her glare. [color=skyblue][b]"Not really digging the vibes here. Feels like I need a beanie and an oiled up beard to be able to fit in. Maybe they'll settle for me starting up a tech com-"[/b][/color]

[color=thistle][b]"[i]Don't.[/i] I'm not in the mood for your smartass shit, Vic."[/b][/color] She pulls out her phone and unlocks it, before sliding it across the table to me. I pick it up; lo and behold, the Hub City Gazette's front page with article, my claim to fame, right at the top. My smirk widened into a grin as I looked over my work. [color=thistle][b]"What the [i]fuck[/i] is this?"[/b][/color]

[color=skyblue][b]"My own [i]Kentucky Derby[/i]. Something that will lay the groundwork for all pieces of political journalism to come,"[/b][/color] I say, sliding the phone back and leaning back in my chair.

She doesn't seem amused. [color=thistle][b]"What it [i]is[/i] is you dragging my brother's name through the [i]mud[/i] like he's just some, some-"[/b][/color]

[color=skyblue][b]"Some crooked politician, just like all the other no good bastards in City Hall. Just because he's your brother doesn't mean he's a good man."[/b][/color]

[color=thistle][b]"Don't you [i]dare[/i] say that about him. My brother has done more for this city in the two months he's been mayor than you [i]ever[/i] have, or ever [i]will![/i]"[/b][/color]

[color=skyblue][b]"Right, right, really doing a great job at pocketing city funds, taking bribes, getting his mobster friends out of jail while he lets men like Hugo Wernher rot behi-"[/b][/color]

[color=thistle][b]"Oh, Wernher, [i]again?[/i] That man [i]murdered[/i] a [i]cop[/i], Vic!"[/b][/color]

[color=skyblue][b]"Because that cop would've shot him and his wife if he [i]didn't![/i]"[/b][/color]

[color=thistle][b]"It's a miracle he didn't get the death sentence. You know [i]I[/i] was the one who lobbied for that, right? Everyone wanted him sent back to Indiana so he could be put on death row there but because you were so [i]insistent[/i] on it I pulled some strings to make sure the case remained in Illinois, and I-"[/b][/color] she pauses, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she groans in frustration. [color=thistle][b]"... Vic. I [i]love you[/i], but I can't... I can't stay with a man who [i]hates[/i] my brother the way you do."[/b][/color]

So this is it. She can't look past whatever brainwashing her brother has instilled in her.

Fine. Myra has chosen her side.

The [i]wrong[/i] side.

[color=skyblue][b]"... Then don't,"[/b][/color] I say as I stand. I turn away from her and walk away, stopping at the front door of the cafe. In the reflection of the windowpane, I see her shocked expression, battling between surprise, anger, and sorrow at my response. Finally, she settles on a disgusted scowl, turning away. I walk out of the cafe without looking back.

That night I go out and beat up some street punks. It doesn't make me feel better.

[center]---[/center]
[center][sup][color=skyblue][i]Charles Victor Szasz has fifty-nine days to live.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
I'm sitting at my desk writing a piece on Council Chairman Floyd's ties to the Chicago Outfit when I feel a presence behind my shoulder. I look behind me and see the Gazette's editor-in-chief Elizabeth McCoy looming over me. The look on her face tells me that something's wrong. [b]"Vic, can I see you in my office?"[/b]

[color=skyblue][b]"Of course, Liz. Just let me finish up what I was-"[/b][/color]

[b]"[i]Now[/i]."[/b]

... Guess she hasn't had her coffee yet. [color=skyblue][b]"... Alright."[/b][/color] I save the document and get up from my chair, following Elizabeth into her office. A few of my coworkers stare at us as we walk by, whispering among themselves. Always a good sign.

When we get into her office, she walks around her desk and sits down in her chair. [b]"Have a seat, Vic."[/b]

I take a seat.

[b]"... Do you have any idea the shitstorm you've conjured with that piece on Fermin?"[/b]

[color=skyblue][b]"Yeah, hopefully soon we'll see him step down and-"[/b][/color]

[b]"Step down? I asked you to write me a piece on Fermin's fundraiser gala for homeless prevention and you give me a [i]hit piece[/i]? What the [i]fuck[/i] were you thinking, Sage?"[/b]

[color=skyblue][b]"I was thinking that it would highlight Fermin's shortcomings as may-"[/b][/color]

[b]"The man has been in office for two Goddamn months. You throw around conspiracy theories about how he sprung Max Bine from prison and pockets city funds like you expect a fucking mob with pitchforks and torches to march down to city hall and have him executed."[/b]

[color=skyblue][b]"I was just trying to get people talking-"[/b][/color]

[b]"Oh, you got people talking. You got [i]lawyers[/i] breathing down my [i]neck[/i] trying to shut this entire journal [i]down[/i]. The mayor is going to sue if we don't take down the article and kick you out the door."[/b]

[color=skyblue][b]"And you told them you'd take their asses to court, right?"[/b][/color]

She narrows her eyes at me. [b]"Pack up your shit, Vic. You're fired."[/b]

[center]---[/center]
[center][sup][color=skyblue][i]Charles Victor Szasz has fifty-one days to live.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
I've been sitting outside Samuel Starr's office with three other candidates for about thirty minutes. There were eight of us half an hour ago, but every single person that's come out of his office has done so with a sour face and quick feet. One guy left the office crying. I'd heard rumors about Starr being a hard ass and it looked like they were true.

Mr. Starr opens the door to his office, letting out a young man whose face was contorted into a scowl. [color=olivedrab][b]"Sage! You're next,"[/b][/color] Starr says. I stand up and walk into the office, with Samuel closing the door behind us and taking a seat at his desk.

He looks at me for a minute and then says, [color=olivedrab][b]"So you're the guy who wrote that article about the mayor?"[/b][/color]

Great. Looks like I was about to miss out on another job. [color=skyblue][b]"... Yes. That was me."[/b][/color]

His face morphs into a grin. [color=olivedrab][b]"Can you write even more articles like that for me?"[/b][/color]

I blink in surprise. Then I match his grin with one of my own. [color=skyblue][b]"That I can do, Mr. Starr."[/b][/color]

[color=olivedrab][b]"Call me Sam, Vic. I look forward to seeing more of you."[/b][/color] With those words he stands and sticks his hand forward, which I shake firmly. He walks to the door of his office and opens it. [color=olivedrab][b]"Position is filled. The rest of you can go home."[/b][/color] He turns to me. [color=olivedrab][b]"Show up on Monday at 9 AM sharp in your best suit."[/b][/color]

I give him a salute as I walk out of the office with a grin. [color=skyblue][b]"Yes sir."[/b][/color]

[center]---[/center]
[center][sup][color=skyblue][i]Charles Victor Szasz has twenty-five hours and forty-seven minutes to live.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
I grip the lapels of my jacket tightly as I flatten myself against the dingy shack's walls, trying to listen past the sound of thunder in the distance. From inside, I hear a ball game playing on a TV with blown out speakers cranked to max volume. [b]"Read 'em and weep,"[/b] a man says and I hear three distinct groans of annoyance. Four men inside playing cards.

I move over to the front door of the shack and run a gloved finger over the splintered wood. All it'll take is one good kick and it'll shatter. I feel a ball of anxiousness build in the pit of my stomach as I back up and ready my leg to kick the door down. I might die here. But that's part of the fun, isn't it?

[b][i]*CRA-ACK!*[/i][/b]

The door breaks apart into chunks of wood and splinters. I march forward and point at the four men who've jumped up from their chairs and look at me in shock. [color=skyblue][b]"You've got something I want. And you'd better give it to me."[/b][/color]

One of the guys, a man with red hair and a shit-eating grin, moves closer to me. [b]"Fellas, you think he wants it? I don't think he really, truly wants i-"[/b] I slam a fist into his face and send him stumbling back into the old box TV they had set up. He slumps to the ground and the TV falls off the nightstand and onto his head, the glass shattering.

The other three jump into action, bum rushing me. One grapples with me and tries to force me to the floor but I slip out of his grasp and knee him in the crotch. I throw a punch that catches him in the ear and he backs away to clutch his head in pain. I grab him by the collar and send a few more punches into his face until he goes limp. I feel a pair of arms wrap around my neck before I can react and I find myself held in a chokehold. The thug squeezes tightly, yelling at his buddy: [b]"Get this mask off him!"[/b]

The only other guy still standing steps in front of me and starts grabbing at my faceless visage. When it becomes clear he can't take off my mask he steps back in horror. [b]"Holy shit, that's his fuckin' face!"[/b]

I raise a leg and kick the man in the chest, sending me and the guy with his arms wrapped around me neck to the floor. His grip on me loosens and I flip around to face him on the floor, slamming both fists down on his face over and over again.

A pair of hands grab me and pull me away from the man on the floor. I shake them off and twist around to face the last man standing, throwing a wild punch at him. I can feel his jawbone shattering against my knuckles and he's sent to the floor.

I stop and take a breather, looking around. That's when I see her: a woman in a red suit, standing in the corner and eying me with a curious expression. [color=skyblue][b]"Don't wanna get involved, lady? Smart."[/b][/color]

She gives me a crooked smile and I feel a shiver run down my spine as she speaks. [color=indianred][b]"I despise violence."[/b][/color]

[color=skyblue][b]"Heard these guys' boss left his laptop here with them. I'll be taking it."[/b][/color]

[color=indianred][b]"Over there."[/b][/color] She lifts a finger and points at the laptop bag sitting on a dresser.

[color=skyblue][b]"Thanks."[/b][/color] I walk over the bag and grab it, slinging it over my shoulder.

[center]---[/center]
[center][sup][color=skyblue][i]Charles Victor Szasz has ten minutes to live.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
I hop the fence and land on my feet, grunting from the impact that was softened by eight inches of snow. I tug at my scarf to tighten it as I march onward. Tonight's the night I finally get what I've been chasing for these past few months: proof that Mayor Fermin is in bed with the Gospel of Sinners. He and his associates were meeting with the head of the Sinners here, according to the info on the laptop I had stolen.

I see six figures up ahead standing around two cars parked right by the docks. There's no way to approach them without being seen, in fact I'm pretty sure the headlights shining directly on me means they can already see me. They don't start rushing for weapons immediately, even as I walk closer. Looks like they're just waiting for me.

The first thing I take in about them is the four men who look familiar. Pretty sure I've kicked their asses before... Actually, shit, I have. All four of them were the guys in the shack. The one with red hair, bandages wrapped around his head. A big guy with a drooping jaw that he rubs mindlessly as I approach. Two guys who look a little less worse for wear, save for their bruises and one's flattened nose.

I stand before them, readying my fists. [color=skyblue][b]"Ready for round two, fellas?"[/b][/color]

They don't bother replying.

I notice the last two figures hanging back. An old man who looks kind of familiar, and a woman in red. The very same woman from last night.

I'll deal with them later.

I'm about to throw myself at the redhead when the old man speaks up. [color=peru][b]"Sister Shiva. Take care of him."[/b][/color]

The woman in red steps forward. She has a small smile on her face.

[color=skyblue][b]"Back off. I don't want to hurt you."[/b][/color]

[color=indianred][b]"Don't you?"[/b][/color]

She's on me in the blink of an eye, slamming a palm into my nose. I stumble back but she grabs me by the elbow and throws me over her shoulder and onto the ground. Her grip is still on my arm and she [i]twists[/i], an immense pain shooting throughout my entire body from my elbow. I feel her pull me up into a standing position, only for her to slam a foot right into my knee.

She throws me to the ground. Every nerve in my body is screaming out in pain.

[color=indianred][b]"He is defeated. Shall I kill him?"[/b][/color]

[color=peru][b]"No. Let the brothers have their turn."[/b][/color]

A hand grips me by the hair and tugs before slamming my head into the concrete. I'm lying face down in the snow, a series of blows striking me all over the body. Every hit to the head feels like it's gonna make my brain seep out of the cracks in my skull. Every kick to the chest feels like my ribs are shattering. Every stomp flattens my organs.

[b][color=indianred]"Does this amuse you?"[/color][/b]

[color=peru][b]"Indeed. I am a fair man. I shall let them continue until every bone in his body is broken. Then I shall permit Brother Gun to shoot him in the head. Then we shall dump in the river. And [i]then[/i], if he arises singing Danny Boy, I shall give him anything he wants."[/b][/color]

The last thing I hear is a gunshot.

[center]---[/center]
[center][sup][color=skyblue][i]Charles Victor Szasz is dead.[/i][/color][/sup][/center]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJ62RzJkYUo]I'm sinking.[/url]

Deeper into the icy depths.

Have I been down here for ten minutes or ten years?

Hard to tell.

There's a little fish swimming around in my skull.

Doing laps around my brain.

I try to open my eyes but it seems like they're already open.

I can't see anything.

There isn't any darkness but I can tell there's no light anywhere either.

Is this it?

Am I dead?

Silence is my answer.

I'm drifting on a cloud in the void.

Into the light?

Away from it?

I can't tell.

It's cold.

But then I feel warmth.

Hands.

Pulling me up and off the cloud.

Back to life? [right][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/188099-one-universe-unlimited-a-marvel-dc-comics-roleplay/char#post-5359012][sup][i]Continued in "... Like A Butterfly"[/i][/sup][/url][/right]