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Blue Beetle

"BWAH-HAHAHA!~"
T H E O D O R E S T E V E N K O R D M A R C H 10, 1979 (38) M A L E N E U T R A L G O O D

C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:

I really just want a chance to make great, stories with Ted because he's a really fun character. This Ted's been in the hero game for a long time, starting out as a sidekick for Dan Garrett before taking over his legacy as Blue Beetle. I think Ted has the potential to be really entertaining and interesting to write and read because there's this duality to his nature in a lot of ways, a crimefighter and genius inventor but also a total goofball. I'm not sure if I have grand plans or some insightful human drama or anything to spin out with Ted, I just want to tell fun stories with him and contribute to the Singular Universe in ways I enjoy and that I hope everyone else will enjoy too.

N O T E S:


Blue Beetle

"BWAH-HAHAHA!~"
T H E O D O R E S T E V E N K O R D M A Y 10, 1979 (38) M A L E N E U T R A L G O O D

C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:

I really just want a chance to make great, stories with Ted because he's a really fun character. This Ted's been in the hero game for a long time, starting out as a sidekick for Dan Garrett before taking over his legacy as Blue Beetle. I think Ted has the potential to be really entertaining and interesting to write and read because there's this duality to his nature in a lot of ways, a crimefighter and genius inventor but also a total goofball. I'm not sure if I have grand plans or some insightful human drama or anything to spin out with Ted, I just want to tell fun stories with him and contribute to the Singular Universe in ways I enjoy and that I hope everyone else will enjoy too.

N O T E S:




just gonna put this here for when Wraith feels better. Timeline's a little shaky, but still.
The Immortal Iron Fist
Orson Randall



Marseilles, France
June 1940,
...I don't know what day it is.


It was a gray day, or maybe they just all felt like gray days then, like I was trapped in a fog. Either way I stumbled into a dockside opium den bone-chilled and clammy like I'd just run a mile through the freezing rain and with a pounding in my head worse than any gongfu pummeling I'd ever taken. The pounding feeling was an old friend by now, the sort of friend that'd ask a man for his very last dollar right after he'd been evicted from his house and tossed into a pile of garbage. Sometimes it sounded like the shells that exploded down on us in the trenches, sometimes it was the drums of K'un-L'un summoning their sacred serpent to devour me, the only constant was the one way I could get it to stop. That's why I was there.

This particular opium den, it was big converted warehouse by the docks, all western grime and shabbiness with a veneer of the Far East crusted over it like the scabby wound it was. Red paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling bathed the place in blood-colored light that flickered off of flaking wall-paintings of glitzy four-toed lung dragons that looked offended to be there and white cranes that wanted to fly somewhere else. The floor had intermittent vomit stains across it from when some poor bastard going through the sweat cure hadn't been able to hold out. I was sure if Lei-Kung the Thunderer could've seen the place he would have wept in shame.

But that didn't matter. Here I wasn't The Immortal Iron Fist, Living Weapon of K'un-L'un and slayer of Shou-Lao the Undying. Hell, I wasn't even Sargent Randall, War Hero. Here I was just Orson the opium addict, and there was only one dragon I cared about.

I let an East Asian-looking immigrant worker take me by the arm and lead me further in, sit me on a divan in my own private little portion of hell I'd reserved thanks to the kinda money that comes from a few decades of adventuring. I couldn't bear to look him in the face, afraid I'd see too much resemblance to the people I'd left behind, or maybe just afraid that he'd fail to hide the disgust behind his eyes. Soon enough it was time for the ritual, the ancient Chinese secret that would free me from my icy pain and the constant pounding behind my eyes.

The serving-man brought my sacred implements on a tray: the needles, the lamp and of course a well-seasoned pipe. A little pill-worth of chandu was all that I could afford, but with the war on even France's holdings in Indochina weren't enough to keep it cheap. I needled the bowl of chandu until it boiled into a thick goop like the shelled-out mud-pit that had swallowed up Private Jean-Claude.

I stopped to shake the memory away, rolled the toffee-like goop into a little pill, jammed it down into my pipe and settled the bowl in on the lamp to heat it.

When the pill started bubbling like Jean Claude's screams I knew it was time to suck in the smoke. It was warm and sweet as a lover's kiss and just as ethereal. It banished the cold and the pounding finally faded as I stretched out on the divan letting my memories vaporize with the opium. The only time I could sleep anymore was with the smoke in my lungs and as I nodded off I thought I heard someone putting a record on and let the words swirl around in my mind

J'attandrai...le jour et la nuit...J'attandrai toujours ton retour...

A decent song, but anyone who might have been waiting for me had died or left a long time ago. All of my friends...even the kid, Wendell, he was gone...and so many of them dead in those trenches...
Funny, normally my memories would have left me alone by now, but I could almost hear the whistle of a bomb.

Hélas plus rien, plus rien me vient.



The pounding was back worse than ever and what was even more annoying was that I was almost sure I was dead. After all, the Yu-ti, sorceror overlord of K'un-L'un, wouldn't be visiting me otherwise. Not even in spectral ghostly form, floating before me and wagging a jade-gloved finger under my nose.

"You were raised to die better than this. The world is being swallowed up by a storm of chaos as atrocity after atrocity is comitted and yet you lie there blown to pieces and wallowing in vice and self-pity?"

I tried to shut my eyes but it turns out that don't help much when you're dead and hallucinating at the same time so instead I grunted at him and mumbled excuses.

"Maybe I was tired of lookin' for the right death. Maybe I was tired of holding back your so-called storm by myself, Tired of killing. Besides, not much I can do about it now."

My one-time lord and master made to smack me for my insolence, two-fingered across the forehead the way I'd always hated as a kid. Somehow I still felt it, which seemed hardly fair to a dead man. "The throne of the honorable rests upon a mountain of bodies and its frame has been made of many bones, Orson Randall. You can choose to die here, but if there is even one scrap left of the Weapon you once were inside you, you know what you must do."

The preachy old bastard left me alone then, but the smug way he said that last part like he knew I'd never do it nagged at me, made me want to prove him wrong.

So I turned inwards, deep inwards to that pounding inside me and for the first time in a long time I remembered what it really was that caused it.

It wasn't the shells against the trenches, it wasn't the war drums of K'un-L'un...

...It was a beating heart. A heart a million miles away, but closer than the one dying in my chest...

...and I reached for it.

Golden fire burned everything away. The drugs, the pain, the wounds, the uncertainty. As I looked around the blasted remains of the opium den at the mangled bodies and the blood all that remained in my mind was this:

I am the Immortal Iron Fist

I am a Living Weapon

and I am going to war.
Immortal Iron Fist

"You ever been the last person alive on a battlefield?"
O R S O N R A N D A L L J A N U A R Y 5th, 1896 (44) M A L E C H A O T I C G O O D

C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:

I'll be playing an Orson Randall still in his prime, hardened and wounded by the horrors and hardships of his experiences as the Iron Fist of the First World War but not yet broken by them. He's still hunted by his fellow Immortal Weapons, but the Iron Fist Killer hasn't started stalking him and while part of him is content to just rest in relative obscurity until he crumbles into dust another deeper part of him might still be driven to heroics under the right circumstances. In short I want to explore Orson Randall's character at what is ultimately an important period of transformation and transition for not only the man himself but the legacy of the Iron Fist and the world as a whole while also establishing what it means for him and his title to exist in this new Singular Universe.

N O T E S:

Cryogenics
Lance Lawrence and Loretta Riadne


Lance had no idea what it was he was doing down in Cryogenics, only that there was some commotion going on and he was in the mood for real work after running his training session with the Agents rather than being forced to go back to his desk or patrolling aimlessly. The scene that greeted him was certainly more concerning than he’d expected though. A cryo-pod cut open with the occupant nowhere to be found. Could the people frozen in there survive having their pods cut open? Was this a missing persons case, deliberate sabotage or a murder investigation? He spoke up to try and get the attention of those gathered.

“My name’s Lance Lawrence, I’m a Patrol Captain with Ark Security. What’s going on here?”

He tried his best to play it off as if it were natural that he take control of the scene, which he supposed it was given his job title. Still, he only knew the basics when it came to the people cryogenically frozen down here, awaiting either the needs of the ship or arrival at wherever their eventual home might be before they woke up again.

Loretta turned as someone, in stress on the one, wearing security attire walked within earshot. Not only that but within distance to be heard, but see what was going on. She wasn’t sure whether or not he could see that the wires and tubes had been cut to remove the occupant, or solely that it had appeared to be force opened. She pushed her way past all the other techs milling around, waltzing right up to the captain.

“Doctor Raidne, head of Cryogenics. We’ve got an open pod, and the occupant appears to have been cut out. You need to quarantine cryogenics and review any and all security footage within the last two hours-” At least that would exclude her activities “-of all exits. Someone has come in and removed the occupant, and somehow managed to get them past security. Though it should be done quietly to not cause a panic.”

She pointed over to two techs who appeared to be more shaken than anyone else. “I’ve kept the technicians who made the discovery here, as well as having a list of names of anyone who has had access to this pod and the skills to prevent N.O.4.H or our own failsafes from alerting us. So, where do you want to start?”

Lance was certain that if she hadn’t introduced herself as such, the good doctor’s attitude would have practically screamed the fact that she was the Head of Cryo and used to being in charge. Well, if she thought that applied to this investigation too, she’d have to make some adjustments. He agreed with her about the need to avoid panic. Cryogenics was the best hope for humanity and it being in any way endangered could make panic spread like sand in a dust-storm. “I’ll start by getting this place under quarantine. Then I have some questions to ask the primary witnesses. My Agents will escort you safely from the field interview station until it’s your turn for questioning.”

He called in just ten agents to carry out the quarantine, two for each entryway and two to help him manage the area and investigations. As the first pair arrived Lance met them at the entryway and gave hushed instructions that he wanted the surveillance footage for the last six hours gone over, then gone over again with a fine-toothed comb and every person on that list who wasn’t already here brought in for questioning as quickly as possible along with anyone else whose skills and access matched the description. Doctor Riadne might have her opinions on how to handle things but he wasn’t about to rule anything out.

Loretta herself was next after the two witnesses. In terms of immediate suspects she was top of Lance’s list, if only because in terms of both skill and access to the pods she immediately fit both criteria and had already had ample time and authority to access the crime scene. Unfortunately that also meant it would be hard to pin her down if she was the culprit.

They’d set up a makeshift interview room with a set of opaque dividers, with the two Agents not currently on quarantine duty standing by to make sure nobody eavesdropped, and it was here that he’d had them bring each suspect for questioning. Lance sat on a swivel stool and regarded the Head of Cryogenics critically.

“So Doctor Loretta Riadne, you mentioned you run things down here in Cryogenics, correct?”

Loretta sighed. Every moment she wasted playing cops and robbers with this idiot was one less working to improve cryogenics or running her experiments to better humanity. “Obviously, you have access to my personnel file. If you’re going to ask such basic questions then I advise you to read it.”

Lance shot her a rather disappointed look “Oh, but I have read it. I’ve read and memorized files for quite a few of the notables aboard the Vitae. As a result I already know that you’re Loretta Riadne, Age 31, Born on the Vigilance before it went down over Titan when the Devastators attacked. I know that you’ve spent your whole life afterward driving yourself to be the best in your field, that you’re a practical genius when it comes to the technology behind these cryogenic storage pods. I know that your co-workers describe you as utterly brilliant and utterly cold. I know your parents stayed behind when the Devastators returned despite both of them possessing valuable experience as engineers. What I don’t know, Doctor Riadne, is how cooperative you’re prepared to be during the course of this investigation. An investigation that’s become necessary under your supervision.” He watched her reactions as he spoke, trying to get a read of her as he continued.

“Now that we’ve established who you are and the fact that you doubtless think this is a tremendous waste of both our time, why don’t you tell me everything you can remember of your activities over the course of the past day, especially anything unusual or of relevance to this incident.”

She could have sworn at him, why he had asked when he already knew. “Excellent, then I advise we skip anymore unnecessary questions as I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do, Captain. I clocked in this morning at zero seven thirty two hours, worked in my laboratory until zero nine thirty three where I then moved onto my standard maintenance checks. Which I am sure you can understand take a rather large amount of time. The pods require constant supervision and have a balance between the technological components, software components and the chemical components. The slightest mix up could result in the death of one, or all occupants.”

“At-” She paused for a brief moment, recalling something. While her implant did help her remember sometimes she had to take pause when processing vast amounts of data. “Fourteen hundred hours I was made aware of a software glitch by the technician responsible for that system. While I was trying to resolve the problem, as per procedure, I ordered a visual inspection which yielded the open pod.” She sat back and crossed her arms to indicate that she was finished.

Lance took her statement in, committed it as best he could to memory along with her reaction when further angered before continuing his questions. “Were you the first one in that day? Who was the occupant of this pod? Was the software glitch related to the pod having been breached? Finally, why was it you suggested a timeline of four hours back for the video data? Why not a narrower band of time?”

“First one in? Of course not. These systems are regulated twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. I was the first one to ever enter the vault once it had a cryo-pod in it technically speaking, but that particular day no I was not. One of the first few day staff I suppose. In terms of the glitch, it would be sensible to presume that the two have some form of correlation, whether the glitch allowed the culprit to breach the pod or the breach caused the glitch is unclear. With my understanding of the systems I am more likely to go with the former. In terms, why four hours? That is the time between the glitch being brought to my attention and the empty pod being discovered. There are a lot of pods, visual inspection takes time. Thankfully the system is fully online again.”

She stretched her legs, pointing her toes away from her as she did so. “Is there anything else you need Captain? I need to ensure that whatever caused this breach cannot happen again.”

Lance listened without giving much in the way of reaction, masking his face with professionalism. “Well, on that point we’re agreed. That’s why I’ll be keeping a skeleton watch here until we get to the bottom of this. The agents involved already will split and guard the area in shifts. I don’t want whoever’s responsible for this striking again. Like you said earlier, we’ll keep it discreet but the work you’re doing here is too vital to risk further sabotage.”

Loretta made to go to stand up. “Excellent, so long as my people don’t feel like they’re under a microscope. They need to be at their best, so is that all you need?”

Lance stood up just before Loretta “Yes, that should be all. We’ll be in touch as the investigation progresses, I’m sure. Thank you for your eventual and somewhat forced cooperation.”

Without waiting for anything more Lance walked out of the little curtained off interview area and moved back over to the sliced open pod that was the center of all this and started going over it with a critical eye, looking for anything of use.

Two details stuck out to him afterward. The first was the blood around the area. They hadn’t taken samples for analysis yet so he motioned one of the Agents on standby to take them in thoroughly. The second was more subtle and more concerning. There were signs, once he looked and mentally compared, that the cuts made on and around the pod were made with a blade that was standard issue for the Vitae’s military and security personnel. So either somebody had misplaced a knife or things had just become a lot more complicated.

Lance made sure the blood was already set to be sent in and analyzed then left in a hurry.

His other duties as a Patrol Captain aside, he was going to have to start looking for traitors in his own ranks if he guessed right.
Basic Instruction


As the door to the third floor training room slid open, Lance wondered not for the first time if this all wasn't some dark yet humorous mistake. Before this posting he'd never been in charge of others, not really anyway. Oh he'd held a commanding officer's rank back on Mars but it was more of the 'Thank you for infiltrating that ring of smugglers and pirates' rank than the 'We trust you to be in charge of other people' rank. Sure, the job was hands on but that was just about its only saving grace. He'd have died at a desk job as sure as one of the older Martians gone Out-of-Dome.

As for what he was supposed to be doing here today well...it was true that he was, just factually and without bragging, perhaps one of the best hand-to-hand combatants of his generation on Mars. But he'd been so busy over the past month or so preparing for his position as patrol captain that he'd doubtlessly let his own training slip, lost his edge, 'gone dusted' the saying might've gone on Mars. How was he supposed to-

No, now wasn't the time for inner self-diatribes. Lance forced himself to look up and around, really see the training facilities and the people gathered and waiting for him. Agent Asara was there of course and he'd already met with her, prepped her for how today was going to go. She seemed competent and reliable both of which were invaluable traits to him at the moment. It was the rest of them he was going to have to worry about, all of them selected for excellence in various ways, but none of them prepared for the true significance of the job before them now-

-including Lance himself. Still, that all changed today. He had prepared for this, first thinking of how his mother might have done things in his place then discounting that as not organic enough to himself. No, for Lance it would have to begin from one of the things he understood best: Martial arts. He waited until Asara brought the still-practicing agents first to a halt and then to attention before scanning over each of the assembled faces, committing them to memory, suppressing his combat analysis and beginning his piece.

"I'm Patrol Captain Lance Lawrence and as of today, I'll be taking over your training here from Chief TreVayne. The first change made will be to expand your martial arts and hand-to-hand combat training. The reason for this is simple. Your training so far has been based mainly in Krav Maga and Krav Maga began as an art for soldiers, it's rooted in the idea of ensuring your own survival and destroying your enemies. We are not soldiers! We are Ark Security Agents and our primary responsibility is to safeguard every last life on this ship. In the days to come we may deal with criminals, spies, saboteurs and dissidents but every one of those lost instead of successfully rehabilitated strikes a blow against the future of the human race.

I'm retaining Krav Maga as part of the curriculum because there will be times we'll be required to fight to survive and to kill. When those times come you may be grateful for its efficiency and its pragmatism. But make no mistake, when we are forced to kill our fellow human beings in this new age it will be because all other options have already failed! So with that in mind, I'll begin by teaching you a wider variety of ways to subdue opponents with minimal force and damage. Who wants to be first?"

After that Lance ran them through some basic techniques and drills for the foundations of their new style, mainly to teach the principles behind good locks, throws and general standing grappling. When he'd run through it patiently enough at least once with each person and had them each have a go against a holographic opponent he lined them up in front of him in the simulation space and stood at-rest with Agent Asara by his side.

"Final exercise for today and it's a really simple one. I want all of you to attack me. All at once. Pretend I'm a saboteur who's been tampering with the ship's systems in order to hold everyone hostage to fulfill my demands or something."

A small mountain in human form spoke up: Bauer, his mind told him.

"But Sir, isn't this situation more than a little uneven for you? What are we supposed to learn from it?"

Lance gave the big man a grin. "Well, it's true that I'm your instructor but don't worry. I'm sure after about the tenth or so person piles on I'll start having some trouble. Now come on! Or did they send me a bunch of-"

To their credit he didn't get to finish the sentence before his new students charged. He also didn't make any movements or attempt to evade them, the same grin still on his face as he spoke up. "Noah, cut it!"

He kept the same 'I knew something you didn't know' look on his face as he activated the magnetic lock on his boots with a press of his toes along with Agent Asara and then watched the other agents drift up and past him mostly helplessly. "Oops, it seems that before this, I was able to damage artificial gravity for this section of the ship. Any one of you care to stop me?" Lance took careful note of those who were able to at least shift around their centers before he gave the signal to re-engage gravity. He also took careful note of those who landed better than the others before continuing.

"The lesson you were all supposed to learn Agent Bauer, was two-fold. First, even if you think you have every advantage our enemies will often use trickery or do the unexpected or both so it is our job to be both adaptable and prepared for any situation. Second, the importance of learning how to fight in a zero gravity environment. It's an entirely different style of combat from anything you'll find on a gravity-bound world and you'll need to develop a different kind of awareness to match it, but some of you already look to have the knack for it. Now, while you're picking yourselves up off the floor you'll be glad to know that my personally led training session is over for now. If you have any questions on technique or anything we went over, direct them to Agent Asara. As usual, she'll be Agent-in-Charge when my personal business or duties as a Patrol Captain take me elsewhere. Otherwise, dismissed!"

Lance turned and strode briskly up and to the elevator, not pausing until its' doors closed behind him to sink down onto the floor for a minute burned out, but with a grin on his face. If his timing had been just a little bit off, he would've been buried under what was roughly a spine-shattering amount of people and made a damn fool of himself. He had no idea what kind of impression he'd left on the other Agents either. But as these things went, his performance today might have made his mother...well not proud, but he was almost sure she'd say it was adequate.


Speaking of sorry how long it took me, the place where I'm doing my internship imploded in a non-physical sense so I've been kind of busy.
Emrys Merlin

The half-fae had stared at Lotte's body a bit as she walked in, but more in disbelief that the rumors and occasional confessions he'd filtered out of demons were true and Lancelot, greatest lech in all of Camelot, had been transformed into a succubus. The irony made his lips quirk up into a smirk and he felt himself having to suppress a laugh.

If anything, the boy only smirked harder as Lotte failed to deduce her situation. Well, nobody had ever accused Lancelot of being the most intelligent among Arthur's companions. The child mage let her give her little summary and act smug before he couldn't hold back anymore and burst out laughing, hard enough that he actually fell out of the comparatively over-sized office chair and floated up into the air upside-down. He floated back upward un little eddies of wind until he looked eye-to-eye with the succubus after fading into more subdued but still rather unimpressive fits of childish giggling.

"Oh-ho-homigosh, over a millennium and a half and you're-you're still just as clueless as ever!I haven't laughed like that for at least a few centuries, but just look at you! You're just too much!" The former arch-magus regained control over himself after a little of this and floated back down into the chair, regarding the demonic swords-woman more seriously.

"Okay, okay I'll grant you, you actually got a decent amount right for someone whose only thinking used to be done with your metaphorical and literal swords. But you got a few points wrong." He held up a hand and stuck up a finger for each of the points in question.

"One: While I am admittedly impressed with the improvements to pornography made since the 5th century on a technical level, the neurological and hormonal side-effects of this body mean I don't exactly ah...appreciate them in any other way, if a dirty old woman like you really has to know."

"Two: The Daddy-Puppet is working fine thanks, you aren't meant to replace it, nor was this body an accident. In fact it was all part of my plan."

"Three: That plan means there will be some nannying involved, to keep up appearances obviously. But it mostly involves paying you lots and lots of money to fight and potentially kill a whole lot of people for me and maybe get your old sword back in the bargain. No King, no Grail, no shining dream to inspire humans that don't deserve it.
"


He put his arm back down and wove his fingers together on the desk as his 'father' moved jerkily to life and held up a contract and a pen.

"So does that sound like a deal, Lancelot Du Lac?"

@Atomicnut
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