Joshie — Roleplayer Guild

And it has begun.

Here will be where the conversation for the game will be held. If I had the ability, I would've split this into TWO OOC's game conversation and General OOC.

Basically, if you have a game question, you might want to label it in a distinguishable way so that it won't be seen as a general OOC comment.

So the two things we need now is for those with an incomplete playbook to finish them and for the filling out of...

WHEN OUR TEAM FIRST CAME TOGETHER

Note: questions answered by roles that don't exist are handled by me. XD

Also, feel free to remind me of some of the suggestions you all made in the interest thread. I answered my questions by feel and are really just suggestions for you all to bounce ideas off of. Feel free to suggest edits and revisions.

Bull: We defeated a dangerous enemy. Who or what was it?

See Legacy.

@Raijinslayer Nova: We destroyed our surroundings in the fight. Where was it? What did we destroy?

"A better question would probably have been what didn't I destroy, all things considered. You see, that Dragoon kinda sent me into a few buildings and walls several times over, and not only did that shit hurt, but it was pissing me off severely. Now usually I'm able to keep my head in a fight, but I don't know what it was about this one, Maybe it's because I felt like she was playing with us, treating us like we were nothing but kittens pawing at the feet of a lion. Sometime after Polaris showed up, I was just barely holding onto my temper when I got sent flying again. At the point, it's all kind of a blur. I remember unleashing a blast of hellfyre around me, decimating the contents of the building I was in(apparently the lobby of the tech company Dragoon was messing with)."

"After that, well, my Hellfyre attacks ended up hitting everything but my target, causing glass to shatter and metal to liquefy into hot slag until the 'incident' happened. . . . Yeah, that was pretty bad. I mean, considering who it was, things could've been worse, there could've even been civilian casualties, but I can't help but thing what would've happened if I'd actually hit her. While she miraculously survived Polaris' attack, taking advantage of my distraction to takedown the threat . . . no, not going to do it. Anyway, I'm certain that, if I'd manage to actually hit her, she'd be dead by now. Not only that, but I doubt there would be much of a body left either. Definitely going to have to take better care next time I feel a situation is bad enough to bring out the hellfyre. I know it's sounds stupid to say, but it's fucking dangerous. A weapon of last resort olnly, from now on."

@Hyper Harlequin Outsider: We didn’t trust each other at first, but that changed. How? Why?

@Grey Janus: We saved the life of someone important, either to the city, or to us. Who was it? Why are they important?

“When I walked into the building that day, I never expected to become involved in anything more dangerous than a lab accident. I was… two months out of the hospital, and a few - I think two or three - weeks into my time as a cape. I didn’t have a good grasp on my powers, or responsibilities, at the time. Lots of… novice mistakes, let’s say. Power incontinence, too. Usually came to me, instead of the other way around. More stable now - mostly headaches and sensory overload.” 

“She entered through the front door. The security office didn’t see - or maybe they did, and died - but I did. Assumed direct control, saw Dragoon starting to head up the stairs. Pulled the alarm, then sent out a call to as many capes as possible. Official Guardian forums, trending hashtags, logged-in social media accounts, whatever was available in the building, I used. At the same time, did my best to make sure the robots opposing her didn’t obstruct evacuation routes, organized escape procedure with my insects, so on so forth. Lots died. More didn’t.”

“Everyone out. Except me, Dragoon, and the boss: Warren Vargas. Might also know him as the Guardian, “Thinker”. People don’t call him that a lot anymore; he revealed his identity a while back. A real modern-Da Vinci-type, he was. And not a terrible boss, as far as bosses go. Just pedantic and, I guess… weird? Neurotic? Paranoid, maybe? Something like that - a very fussy man. I suppose he was onto something, though. What with Dragoon, and all.”

“But he was smart, not tough. Yet he hadn’t left the building, or called for help. Thought that was suspicious. Sent some bugs to his office, and the first thing I see is him just… typing and clicking away. It’s like he was on some kind of deadline. Never mind the divine juggernaut taking out security drones left and right. I suppose I understand why, now. Anyway, I got his attention by forming a conspicuous, little, buzzing mass, and… This guy... The guy doesn’t even look up from the screen. He just says: ‘hold her off’, in the straightest, flattest voice possible.” 

“Mmm. I’m not sure he knew who he was talking to, either. I hadn’t been active for a month, and my power was - is still - far from maturity. But here was a hero who’d been active longer than I’d lived, telling me to go hold off Dragoon. And I did. Or, tried to, at least. I thought the great Thinker had some master plan, or secret weapon, in store. He didn’t, but I managed well enough on my own.”

“The fight… It was terrifying. But also unlike anything I’d ever done. No tainting judicial procedure. No hologram training. Just five minutes. One on one. Worm on wyrm. Couldn’t call it a real fight, though. Had to play dirty, or I’d be dead. Lots of decoys, lots of distractions, lots of bugs. Strength, speed, divine armament - nothing in her arsenal had too much compatibility against me... Err, bugs. Not me. I’m not the swarm, even if I’m Swarm. Wasn’t enough, anyway. My power proved problematic, yes, but it went the other way, too. Lots of bug bites, but nothing major. Too scared to use bees. Or brown recluses. Or widows. Probably could've avoided a lot of trouble. Also, would have been in more trouble. At any rate, couldn’t penetrate her armor personally, and, in the first place, only got close enough twice." 

"No, definitely not a real fight. Just an insect making a nuisance of itself, trying not to get crushed.”

“Failed to defeat her myself, sure. But the objective was completed, to an extent. Reinforcements came. Victory, however pyrrhic, came after. Dragoon’s hero-killer reputation was well-deserved. About a dozen dead capes, and one left heavily wounded. Loss of limb, exposed innards, nth degree burns. Not Dragoon’s fault, ironically. Thinker, Mr. Vargas, died too. Don’t how - I had bugs on Dragoon at all times - but he was definitely not breathing, nor was the heart beating. Checked the body myself. Also, checked his laptop. He’d left a webcam recording - a last will.  It told me about this project of his. Details. Restrictions. Background. Guardian project, obviously, except halfway through he went off script. Made his own adjustments. At the end, he begged not to delete it, or leave it on the shelf forever. Wanted it tested, used for the betterment of Halcyon.”

“The project itself… It was a sapient AI. Part-administrative assistant, part-simulator, from my understanding. Has a lot of restrictions on it - no AI singularities here, thank you. My theory? Obtaining that was Dragoon’s real goal. Explained why she didn’t care about preserving the projects on the floor. The ones that got destroyed, or covered in rubble, or set on fire, or whatever. Including the one I... Err, Hana-the-intern, was helping with. I kept it, by the by. The AI, not the spoiled fruits of m... Hana's, labour, I mean. At the time, figured I could only trust myself... Kh. Sounds so edgy when I say it like that.”

“Anyway. We - the six survivors - ended up forming a team. So, I brought it during meet two. A show of faith. And, I guess, a way to figure out what I should do with it. We spent... a few hours talking about it. Lots of opinions. Lots of bad sci-fi tropes. In the end, we called it ‘Sai', and left it with me.”

Delinquent: We totally broke some major rules to win the fight. What rules did we break? Whose rules were they?

You all skipped school to stop this menace, since this was an all day thing school was the furthest thing from your minds.

Because of this truancy, you all are in detention.

@Ermine Doomed: We paid a high cost for victory. What was it?

"I mean, I'm not one to talk about the negative stuff so casually. Sure, we saved so many people, and...that was my aunt we killed. Had to kill. Whatever. We killed her. And we lost friends in the battle. I'll be sure to add them to my memory archives the next time I can go to my sanctuary. Fourteen in all. We're not big damn heroes. We're the little guys. We didn't deserve to be there. We didn't earn our praise. We were sloppy. We were...and we had connections.

"'You can't save everyone.' That's what people say, like it means anything. Of course we can't. But we lost the heroes and survived out of dumb luck. There was no victory. We were just the last people standing after the real heroes did the hard work. Fourteen heroes, civvies still missing, probably vaporized. No. You can save the people who also save people. Then you're a hero.

So yeah, we paid a high cost. But not nearly as high as fifteen heroes - because my aunt-by-marriage is still a hero, even though we had to kill her - and countless civilians. Don't ask me about what we lost. Don't call us heroes. We all probably still have the dreams. I know I still watch my back, and jump when I hear unexpected noises."

@Liliya Legacy: All things considered, we did well and impressed an established hero. Who was it?

From Lliya:

All things considered, we did well and impressed an established hero. Who was it?  Felitrix. 
Yeah, that day… I don’t talk about it much. I mean, I’m over it and it’s cool, but it was pretty nuts. Me and Andrea got an alert about some kind of disturbance, big time stuff, over Felitrix’s dark app. The Guardians responded, but all of them were twenty minutes out, and it was Class A, lots of civvies were in danger. We were a few minutes out, tops, and I beeped in. Normally they’d have shot down my request, I’d have gone anyway knowing how far out they were, but this time they didn’t. I knew it was big shit when they accepted and sent over an asap order. I threw on my costume, and we flew over. Dragoon is major league, like we shouldn’t be fighting this kind of villain, but that’s how the job goes sometimes. There are these three costumes just going at it with Dragoon, Andrea knew at least one of them from a previous job, but just from looking at them I knew that they were kids, and not the legacy types like us. I don’t know how they heard about the situation, too fast for it to have been on any of the big news channels, probably facebook or twitter, “Er mah gerd, super villainy at fourth and main! It’s Dragoon!! E’erybuduh Run!!1! #catsignal,” or something. Bugs f#$%ing everywhere, the literal animal kind, and I really don’t like bugs. Dragoon’s just smacking these kids around. She’s one of those former supers turned baddie, I hear it isn’t her fault, some kind of mind f#$% courtesy of our old friend Doctor Zondervan, yeah, the Doctor Zondervan, but it doesn’t really matter. 

She was a danger, and we had to do something about it. Dragoon is a professional, usually wouldn’t have set off any kind of alarm, we’d only have heard about it after she was gone and everything was said and done. It was some kind of fancy lab, one of the ones with Grade A Scarborough Enterprises security systems, and she must have done something off script because she wound up getting boxed and having to fight her way out through robot security drones, made a lot of noise in the process. Anyway, Andrea’s throwing everything she’s got at her, and I take advantage of the distraction to just light her, Dragoon, up, laser beams and then a flying broadside punch, me and Andrea’s regular approach, but this is no ordinary supervillain. She dodges Andrea’s stuff, my lasers, and then swats me off like I’m a fly when I went in for the physical stuff, and I wind up right next to this monster lookin’ guy. Like, seriously monster looking, horns and everything, this blue fire that you just know isn’t normal in the physics kinda way dancing and arcing off him, all big and badass looking. He’s firing some beam at Dragoon, and the street is just melting away, nasty stuff that fire, and I’m getting to my feet. Dragoon dodges, I mean even with her armor no one wants to take something like that straight on, and this horned devil is just honing in on her, real focused you know? Tunnel vision must’ve set in, happens to all of us, because he clearly wasn’t paying attention to where we were in relation to each other. 

I learned later that some of that fire, which as I had assumed at the time was no ordinary flame, was arcing off of him and went a little too far to his left. At the time I just remember looking at Dragoon and seeing an opportunity, then there’s this burning like nothing I’ve ever felt, I mean not like, “ow, hot!” more like my skin is covered in boiling cheese and is just bubbling up, like I’m seriously melting, and everything the bubbling guck touched on me was just instantly changed into the same awful crap. I guess it didn’t stop me, because the next thing I know I’m in midair, I have Dragoon’s helmet off somehow and I’m just dragging the back of her head along the street, at speed, crushing her head in with my left hand. I’m right handed, and I remember thinking it seemed wrong that I was using my left, but it didn’t matter enough for me to stop and consider the thought for any length of time, I was kinda busy after all. So I drag her like fifty feet, felt like fifty miles, and I just kinda fall. Not like collapsed to the ground, but I wasn’t flying anymore, just standing there crushing this chick’s face in. Her head looked like someone took a bat to it. I remember looking down and realizing that thick, dark, goopy blood was all over her face, her neck, her chest, and knowing that it shouldn’t be, wrong angle, like it was just falling down onto her from somewhere while she looked up at me, her eyes all big and wide and unseeing. 

Next thing I know I’m floating, like literally floating, horizontal to the ground looking up at the sky. I tried to reach up and cover my eyes with my hand, right? Because of the sun and all, but it just wasn’t moving. So I look down, and my hand is just wrong somehow. I think it took me three whole seconds to realize that half of it was missing, in a semicircular cut from the bottom right side of my wrist to the tip of the index finger, including my pinky and ring fingers, and everything but the left half of the bottom section of my middle finger. I mean, you’d think it would have been some instantaneous understanding kind of thing, but I really had to puzzle out what was different about it, like seeing someone who you think changed something about their hair but have to make sure before you ask. I guess I mumbled something about it, like, “where’s my hand,” or whatever, but I mostly just remember feeling abject terror, and then Andrea was talking to me, telling me everything would be alright or whatever. I wasn’t paying attention to her, at least not enough to remember what she said, I was just looking at what was left of my hand, didn’t even occur to me to ask why the rest of it was missing in the first place. Never even realized that my costume was half burnt off, or that my hair was half burnt off, or the small factor that most of my ribs, along with some organ and intestinal tissue, were showing through the big ass rend in my chest. 

I next woke up in what easily takes the place of the worst pain I have ever felt, and I’ve been nearly cut in half by, what it turns out to be, is known as hellfyre. I learned later that Andrea had gotten me to some Guardian safe house, and then they took me to some kind of hospital that they operate for dealing with the weirder kinds of injuries you might happen to receive in this line of work. Normally the hellfyre would have spread decay through my system, the flesh would have turned necrotic, I’d develop sepsis and die. Better to cut off anything touched by the stuff, but you can’t just cut off a deep chest wound. Anyway, they had some old connections to some interesting people, and got some monk or something to show up with some kind of hoodoo potion, boiling wine, herbs, supposedly, “holy,” holy water, though I doubt whatever that thing was happened to be a Catholic priest, what with the tree bark for a face and antlers sticking out of its head, the blood of a dove, eye of newt, f#$%, the shit was probably Drano for all I know. What I do know is that when you boil it and pour it into an open chest wound, and maybe this is true of any boiling liquid poured directly onto muscle and organ literally inside of your body, it is easily worse living through than losing your hand. The pain is actually necessary, too, like at least according to Tree Face I couldn’t be on a pain med drip or anesthetized until after going through it, cleanses the soul. 

I don’t know if I felt any holier afterwards for being conscious through the process, and I kinda think in retrospect Tree Face was probably just pissy about being made out of wood and wanted to watch me squirm, but I lived, the flesh didn’t turn necrotic, and after I went through having the shit poured on what was left of my hand, including the missing parts which creepily I could swear I felt just as plainly as if they were still attached, and then I was just out, some kind of gas from one of those hospital nose tube things they’d put me on. I woke up, Andrea was there holding my hand, mom was yelling at Gravitron how she was going to castrate that mongrel pestilence before he could spawn any more of his ilk, to which he kept saying that he was just a kid and probably wasn’t evil, Felitrix was sitting on a chair in the corner typing something into a tablet, and I remember thinking to myself, “wait a sec, Andrea’s holding my hand. That’s new,” I don’t mean she’s never held my hand or whatever, I mean the hand was literally new. Or at least it was as good as new. I could feel her skin on mine, even in the pinky and ring finger that were completely cut off, and I squeezed her hand just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, not so hard that it would hurt her, of course, even drugged on that bed I remembered what I could do if I wasn’t careful, but it was enough to get her attention and satisfy my new hand curiosity. 

I asked her why they cut my chest open; in my blood loss and drug induced delirium I guess I thought they had to start my heart with boiling oil or something, and forgot all about what side of the body the heart is on, and that people don’t start hearts with boiling liquid. She just told me that the wound came from the same place as the other one had, and called the adults over. So they showered me with affection for, like, five minutes, and then berated me for another ten. It was really f#$%ing weird too, like I just kept looking over at Felitrix and occasionally squeezing Andrea’s hand while Gravitron and my mother acted like a couple parents going back and forth between loving and scolding after their idiot kid got herself hurt. She didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong with this picture, though, just kept playing with her tablet, hardly even looked up when Andrea told everyone I was awake, and I guess I was just letting my own internal knowledge get outwardly expressed in my head onto her. So, being as everyone else really had to get back to their real world duties, they all started leaving, followed protocol. I mean it’s one thing for Lodestar, Polaris, Doktor Faust, Felitrix and Gravitron to be missing all at the same time, but for Lodestar, Polaris, Doktor Faust, Felitrix, Gravitron, Savannah Newman, Alex Hathaway, Andrea Faust, Anne Scarborough, and Jan Poole to all be missing, for what turned out to have been nearly eighteen hours, right after a very big, very public battle like that? Way too risky to everyone’s secret identities. 

Andrea and Felitrix stuck around the longest though. After mom left, Felitrix pulled her chair up next to my hospital bed, one of the rolley ones that adjusts up and down and sideways, and lifted my torso up with the push button controls before sticking her tablet in my face. I took it, in my left hand, I didn’t want to move my right one from Andrea’s considering, and I read the article headline. “DRAGOON APREHENDED AFTER DECADE LONG MANHUNT, BUT NOT WITHOUT CASUALTIES,” and right below that is this big honkin’ picture of me bent over dragoon, on fire, bleeding like a stuck pig from my side, tit flopping out of where my costume used to be. They didn’t even have the decency to give me one of those censored bars, just one of those microscopic little blurred out star things over my nipple, --, f#$%ing bastard news media reporters. The first line of the actual written part went, “Bold new super hero team in Halcyon City?” and it goes on to talk about the five of us, speculations on who we are and what our super hero names might be, old articles about me and Andrea, Polaris and Doktor Faust I mean, something about some girl in a costume who was seen fleeing the scene of a crime after bodily interrupting a police investigation who they thought was the same person as the bug controlling hero of the day, pondering on whether the six and a half foot tall demon looked like that regularly, if it was some kind of prosthetics used as part of his elaborate costume, or some kind of activated transformation. 

They wished me the best in my recovery, of course, all the while capitalizing on my injuries, vulnerability, and nudity, simultaneously hoping that I had died from my injuries so that they could cover the death of Lodestar’s daughter for some extra publicity, f#$%ing assholes. Of course they speculated whether or not Dragoon would survive her injuries which gave me some intense feelings up and down the spectrum. I mean, I hadn’t thought about her or what had become of her up until that point. Last time I saw her she looked pretty f#$%ing dead, and it was at my hands. Guess I’d just forgotten, what with the whole nuttiness of the ensuing eighteen hours. On the other hand, I didn’t know if I was glad she was alive, but I certainly didn’t want to have been responsible for killing another person, either. Squeezed Andrea’s hand hard enough to hurt her while looking at the picture and reading the article, hadn’t realized until she subconsciously squeaked out a protest. Guess she was just looking out for me and didn’t want to say anything, Andrea’s good to me like that, but I loosened my grip and muttered out an apology anyway. Down at the bottom, with like a hundred thousand likes, was a comment from Felitrix’s official account, the one used for correspondence between her and the Guardians and the newspaper. She had basically said that she was incredibly proud of this burgeoning new team, and that had we not acted the Guardians wouldn’t have been there in time to have prevented Dragoon from causing massive damage to life and property in her, likely successful, attempt to escape. 

I looked up at Felitrix, and she just looked back down at me, waiting for me to say something. I didn’t know what to say, of course. It had been a hell of a day, I hurt everywhere, had a naked picture of me on the front page of the newspaper, had recently been cut nearly in half, and sewn back up after getting boiling liquid poured into the hole in my chest. I really just wanted Andrea to crawl into the weird rolley bed and hold me, cry for like an hour, the gross sobbing kind of crying, too, with like zero chill or composure, have some morphine dripped into my veins and forget this whole day had happened for a little while. Didn’t matter, though, Felitrix wanted me to say something, the right something, and she always managed to get people to do what she wanted. “We aren’t a team, Anne,” I said to her, dumbly, clearly flailing for something smart to say and just flopping instead. “Of course you are, says so right here in the paper,” she countered, feline smile spreading across her face. She’s pretty, Anne Scarborough, but she has the biggest mouth, and the evilest grin I’ve ever seen. Like, Jagger big mouth. Like, Jagger Face on the Cheshire Cat big mouth. Wonder if that’s a meme somewhere? It should be. “Never met them before in my life,” somehow her grin got even longer, wider, and I was starting to think there might be morphine in my drip after all. “Sure you have, Alex,”. 

I thought to myself, “Holy shit, have I?” like a total tool, and squeezed Andrea’s hand, making her squeak again before Anne finished her sentence. “you fought off Dragoon together just a few hours ago… Did really well, too,” she leaned over me and pushed the bookmarks button on her Scarborough Enterprises psyPad Septum, pulled up some website. We were all over the Halcyon City page, the city run one for upcoming events and names of important people next to their business numbers and job titles, and people were actually cheering for us. Like, really applauding us for what we did. I mean, half the comments were about my boob, but most of them were people thanking us for finally doing what the Guardians had failed to do for ten years. One, I read it aloud and showed the screen to Andrea, was this lady, Maria, saying Dragoon had killed her eighteen year old son on the first day of his internship with some indie newspaper company, and that she had night terrors for years thinking about if she might show up and do the same to some other poor woman’s baby, and said that the night before was the first time she had gotten a good night’s sleep since her son, Victor, had passed. She posted his picture along with the text, and it just went nuts. Like a hundred people wrote on it that they remembered Victor and what a good guy he had been, and it just spread from there with hundreds of other people posting pictures and stories of how Dragoon had killed this person and that person. It seriously blew my mind. 

I mean, first of all, I’d always known that there were some real baddies out there, but not kidding, thousands of people posted about how Dragoon had killed someone that they loved. It reminded me how in over our heads me and Andrea were in going up against her, but I think it’s where I first realized just how much people really need super heroes. I mean, Dragoon had been doing this shit for a decade, and had hurt who knows how many people, reasonably okay people, in the process. I don’t have an official list from anyone, but I sure as hell saw enough people on that website to feel like what me and Andrea had done was worth the scars. “I always thought you two would wind up on Ken’s team, but I guess it’s time to let that one go, for now,” Anne stood, put one of those canvas book bag briefcases stamped, “Scarborough Enterprises,” all officially on the foldey flap part onto the folding tray on the hospital bed’s left arm rest, collected her tablet, and made her way to the door. “Clearly you five have a lot of good work to do. Keep the other supers on their toes,” and she left, still grinning like some caricature of a person. Andrea said something about that being super awkward, and I nodded, patting the briefcase down with my left hand, still refusing to take my right from Andrea’s, before reaching into the main partition of the unzipped sleeve. There were five phones, Scarborough Enterprises pay as you go psyPhoneGo brand ones, stupid name really, and a blonde wig, for some reason. “Wait, what…?” 

"Where is my f#$%ing hair!?!?!?!?"

Transformed: We drew attention and ire from plenty during the fight. One important person in particular now hates and fears us. Who is it?

Going with an unexpected twist here:

Lodestar.

For one thing, a group of kids did something she couldn't do. In the past, Dragoon has creamed Lodestar, yet the news also showed a group of teens, with Alex in the center of it all, taking the woman down. In short, you all got a rep boost while at the same time unintentionally bruising Lodestar's ego.

Now she is taking it upon herself to show you rookies the ropes. Whether you want to or not, because now, with the camera's glaring at her, she has an image to maintain as being the 'meter stick to teach these kids how to be proper heroes'

@Tengri Protégé: We stuck together after all was said and done. Why? How’d we keep in contact?

From Tengri:

"I am honestly not sure.  I was a bit pessimistic of this idea at first, and I still am. 

I was on my patrol, when the message about the attack spread. It took me by surprise. I never expected that something like this could possibly happen in the middle of a day. It was a rookie’s mistake. I reacted as quickly as I could, but by the time I reached the destination, the battle had already started.

Dragoon. I have never seen her in person, but her records were speaking for her. I frankly was scared - not of her, but what she represented. If somebody so powerful can turn rogue, then… It doesn’t matter. And besides, it’s not like she is going to roam the streets any time soon.

I wanted to lend a hand and provide some assistance, but I was too late to help. I only saw fire, and not the normal kind either. I could only watch the inevitable. I suppose you’ve already seen the whole fight at this point, so this part can be skipped as well.
It’s funny how you prepare for all kinds of emergencies, but when the chips are down, you panic like an ordinary human. I saw the charred body of - I’m not sure. I think she was with the Guardians. I helped with the relief work, too. It was in that moment I realized that the things would turn different. It was the starting point.

After the whole attack, when all things were said and done, everything went to hell. It in the news: a bunch of gifted youngsters managed to succeed where pro-hero failed. I usually don’t pay much attention to the mass media since most of it is rubbish, but that time, it was like watching a train wreck - you know how this ends, but can’t stop looking.

After the dust has finally settled, I had my hands full. Lodestar may be the prime hero and all, but the grunt work of finding people for her was my forte. It was easy to find - Luxurius and Faust had no need to be contacted in the first place, same story for Ursae Minoris (who now sported a blonde wig for some reason). Also, that alien girl. Yeah.

I am starting to get nostalgic when everything I did was beating up mobsters and thugs. So, there was the last person on the list. Swarm. Civilian identity unknown. And here, time to show my detective training finally came. I started collecting reports about her appearances - God bless Nucleus’ authority badges - trying to pinpoint her area of work. If my guess was correct, she was only a student with limited resources. In short, I had to find where her home possibly was.

I tried to meet her manually, too. It wasn’t easy. Between my regular patrols, outings with Nucleus and other things, meeting an elusive, bug-controlling vigilante wasn’t easy. I found a solution, though. A sign. A billboard, to be precise. I contacted city authorities and placed a gigantic billboard. It was stark white to an outsider, but I applied some of pheromones to the whole thing - only insects could understand this message, or someone capable of controlling them.

I organized this meeting and volunteered my personal hideout as the team’s base of operations. I had my agenda, though. Nucleus asked me to keep on an eye on the wildcard, Swarm. Since her actual motives were unknown, coupled with her secret identity, this altogether made my mentor suspicious. I was her spy of sorts inside the team. Also, the battle with Dragoon turned a few alarms in my brain: such tremendous power without proper control spelled nothing short of trouble. 

I am not sure for the others’ reason to be on the team, but I have my responsibilities. And besides, this does count as social activity, right?"

Beacon: We found signs that this incident was just the start of something bigger. What were the signs?

Besides the obvious (Dragoon will want revenge someday), there is also Doctor Zandervan to consider... as it turns out that Dragoon was 'meant' to raise a ruckus. She diverted attention while Zandervan stole something across town.

Dragoon didn't mean to lose and get apprehened, obviously, but something foul is afoot.
Joshie Member

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts
