I love that part when she tells Gadget to call it a day. And then next thing "If my mom asks, tell her I am spending the night at your place." She's a hero, but also still a kid.

Cripes, look at his underground lair! Gorsh, that place could be featured on HGTV if he weren't trying to keep it secret.

The Hammer likes Wu-Tang Clan. Yes, I also would have never guessed he's got a prosthetic leg.

In a way Lighthammer is quite a mystery. Because we know by now how January and Raven became who they are today, a lot of it was through magical abilities which they were able to tap into and exploit. But with LH, I am realizing I have no idea how he's become who he is today.



Interesting. That answers my first question. Damn. I love that part when the reverend can be seen glowing brighter. See, that would set aside the fakers from the actual saints of this world, if somebody could see this in the astral plane for real. And of course, Lighthammer (Lucas) would only have a saint on his side. Only the best for our superheroes of Detroit. Too bad this reverend is kind of a dork, when it comes to modernizing his bigoted ways.

I like that she stays there after Bigot Man leaves. That's the right thing to do, I think.

Acadian: The Armex Steel is just something I made up to be a high tech metal. The ballistic goo is real however. It is an experimental form of body armor that should be both light, and bulletproof.

Lighthammer was not originally envisioned as being disabled. But when I was working on this chapter and his history it became more and more right. Especially since he is so good at flying.

Jan has definitely had enough of the Rev for a lifetime. Dealing with people like him is simply the reality that many have to deal with, which is why he is in here.


Renee: It is like all the way back in the first book, when Jan had to call her mom to say she would be late while she was in the middle of superheroing. I love little touches like that.

Lighthammer's place is not as lavishly furnished as in the pictures. But the general look and feel is right. He lives in an old church, so it has those lofty spaces.

We will get more about Hammer's origin story in today's episode. The simple story is that he is a meta-human whose powers eventually woke up.

January would not just walk out on the Hammer until she knows he is hanging ok. So she will definitely spend the entire night there.







Lighthammer's home is located where the RL St. John's Episcopal Church is.

As always it can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map





Book 7.9 - Hammer Down
June 18


"One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.
Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten for a bird,
You must not miss."

January sang to herself as she pried apart the cast iron handles of the old-fashioned waffle pan. She did not bother to use a pair of oven mittens. What was a few hundred degrees after all? The twin lids swung apart, to reveal amber treasure within. She dropped a nearly perfect specimen of waffle goodness onto a plate. She set aside the empty waffle maker and turned to a frying pan filled with mini-sausages, and made sure to flip them all over to keep them from burning.

"What is that you're singing?" A warm male voice rolled out across the open living space of Lighthammer's church-home. January turned around to see the owner coming down the stairs in a bathrobe. He was bathed in the golden sunlight that streamed in through the tall glass windows that lined the walls of the former church. A towel was draped around his neck, and his feet were bare. Well, his one flesh and blood foot at least.

"Just counting crows," January murmured. "It's something my mom taught me when I was little."

Then her voice brightened. "You look a lot better."

"I guess a good night's sleep is all I really needed," he smiled. He was halfway across the room when he stopped dead in his tracks. January could see that he was really taking a close look at her. She tried not to feel self-conscious.

"Damn, you are not what I expected," he finally exhaled. "But what on earth is that you are wearing?"

January looked down. She was no longer clad in her armor. Instead she wore the same green, tentacle-emblazoned skater dress she had the day before. Apparently when she did her quick change, it automatically reverted to whatever she had been wearing last. That was something else she thought she might look into improving upon. It would be a nice if she could change into anything on the fly.

"This is my Cthulhu dress," she smiled. "Don't you like it? It's one of my favorites."

"It would be," Lighthammer shook his head. But he was smiling, so he was clearly in much better humor than the Reverend from the previous night. He sidled into a chair at the rectangular dining room table, and January brought him out a plate of waffles and sausages, then followed with a glass of milk.

"Are you always this domestic?" he wondered. "Even my girlfriend won't cook me breakfast."

"I'm practicing," January said honestly. "My mom used to always cook. But since we moved out, I've been making an effort to be more useful."

"You didn't have to," Lighthammer insisted.

"Well I was hungry," January replied. "It would have been rude to just make breakfast for myself."

Lighthammer almost laughed. Then his face turned as serious as stone, and he gestured at her bared features. "No, I mean this. You didn't have to show me who you are. I mean, I'm new to the whole superhero game, but I know the rules the same as anyone else."

"Well, you trusted me enough to bring me here," January fought to stop from biting her lip. "I am trusting you the same. That is how trust works after all. If we don't stand with each other, we all fall."

"Besides, it can be so hard sometimes, wearing that mask." January dropped into a chair with a plate of her own. "When I put it on, there is this whole weight of responsibility that comes with it. I can carry that. I knew it came with the cape. But it also comes with this alienation, this apartness from everyone else around me. No matter how friendly I am, no matter how many selfies I take with people, I am always the one holding part of myself back, in secret. Sometimes it's like being in the closet all over again."

"Yeah, I know," Lighthammer stared down at his plate, and moved his sausages around aimlessly. "To be honest, you and Blood Raven are the only other capes I have ever met. Well, without blasting them at least. It really does start to feel like being a spy out in the cold after a while. I guess that's why so many of us work with partners, or whole teams."

"Lucas Gross." He looked up resolutely and held out his hand. "I am delighted to make you acquaintance."

"January Ward." She took his hand, and was surprised at how gentle his grip was. Once again, she was glad that she did not have to pretend to be male anymore, and get into handshake battles with half the people she met. "The honor is all mine Sir Gross. Or is it Yard Sale?"

"You saw that?" Lucas leaned back with a little smile. "That was my call sign when I was in the Air Force."

"I was guessing, with all the airplane stuff you have," January noted around a mouthful of waffles. She pointed to the one in the picture over the fireplace. "Was that your plane?"

"Yes," Lucas beamed proudly. "Not that exact one of course. But I was an A-10 driver. At least until I met Peggy here," He tapped one hand against his artificial lower leg.

"You're very brave about that," January admitted. "I don't think I could take it in so well."

"Believe me, I didn't." Lucas stared down at his sausages and frowned. "It took a long time to deal with, a long time... The Rev helped a lot. He counsels veterans at the clinic he runs. He was in Vietnam, so he gets it. I still go to group every week. It helps me appreciate the things I still have in life, like my parents."

January looked over from the table to a picture on one of the walls. It was formal, and looked like a family portrait. It was of Lucas, that younger man, and the much older man and woman she had seen in the picture in his bedroom. All were dressed up. If the older couple were Lucas' parents, who was the younger man?

"Funny thing, my powers sort of turned on afterward," he continued. "I couldn't walk anymore. Not without learning how to all over again. But I could fly. The Lord giveth, and he taketh away."

"How did it happen?" January asked quietly. She hoped she was not prying too deeply. "Was it the war?"

"No," Lucas shook his head ruefully. "It was here, at home. I was on leave, and this Instantgram influencer was texting when she should have been watching where she was driving. The next thing I knew, I was ten pounds lighter. I spent years flying combat missions in Afghanistan. I pulled enough lead out of my fuselage to start a pencil factory. And it turns out some self-absorbed idiot with a phone is what does me in."

"Really?" January could not contain her surprise. "I never would have expected that."

"Oh yeah," Lucas nodded. "Afterward I looked it up. Vehicular accidents are the leading cause of injury for service people, not combat. Heck, more of us die outside of war zones rather than in them these days."

"The world is a wider, and stranger, place than any of us ever imagine." January echoed the words Blood Raven had said to her just a few weeks earlier.

"So how is it that you live in an old church, with a secret tunnel underneath it?" January asked a moment later.

"Oh this old place?" Lucas glanced up at the lofty arched roof overhead. "It used to be part of the Underground Railroad. That's why it has the secret tunnel to the river. They would sneak people onto boats and across the lake to Canada. The church had to sell it a while back. Some rock star bought it and turned it into a home. Then the IRS took it after he didn't pay his taxes. I bought it at an auction a few months ago. It seemed like the perfect Lightcave. So what's your Crow's Nest like?"

"Crow's Nest, why didn't I think of that one?" January shook her head. "I live in a Witch House. It's at the edge of the woods, so I can vanish into the trees when I come and go."

"A Witch House?" Lucas cocked an eyebrow with incredulity. "So it has Witches in it? Or it was built by a Witch?"

"Yes," January beamed. "Both. It runs in the family."

That reminded her of something else Blood Raven had once said.

"There is no escaping our blood," she repeated somberly.

"Wait a minute." A proverbial light bulb seemed to go off in Lucas' head. "You said you're January Ward? The January Ward, the writer? That's where I know you. I read your story in the Crow Tales blog! I've been following it from the start."

"How did you like it?" January could not resist asking. She instantly regretted it. Sometimes it was better not to know.

"Well, I never went in for all that Lord of the Rings stuff," Lucas looked sheepish. "But I guess it was alright. The truth is I prefer more shootouts and car chases, and less talking. It was an easier read than Frankenstein though. Don't get me wrong, that was good, really good, and nothing like the movies. But it was brutal. I could identify at times, with the Creature. How he felt, and how I did after the accident..."

"Me too," January admitted. "That's why it was the first story I put on Crow Tales. It has always been very personal for me."

January noticed that he was staring at her wrists. At the scars that crisscrossed her skin. She resisted the urge to pull back, and hide them. She had long since resolved to never do that again, to never be ashamed of herself again.

"So that's what you meant in the interview you did," he breathed, "when you talked about suicide."

January nodded. "We all have scars. Each one is a story about something that made us who and what we are."

"About that," Lucas began, "I do have scars, other scars. And I need to face them..."

"Does this have something to do with that man in the pictures?" January nodded to the one that looked like a family portrait. "The young one? Your brother, or cousin?"

"That was my baby brother, Marcus," Lucas' face turned sour. He did not say anything for a long time. January did speak. She was not going to press further. This was his story, he would tell it, or not, as he saw fit.

"He overdosed on fentanyl earlier this year." Lucas finally murmured. "I didn't even notice that he was using. I was so wrapped up in myself. I never thought that he was in pain too. That he needed an escape."

Now things clicked into place within January's head. Her first night as a cape, Gadget had told her that Lighthammer had only been active for a few months. He had said he was carrying out a one hammer war on drugs in and around Ohio. Since then Blood Raven had warned her that she suspected him to be motivated by passion, rather than principle.

"So that's why you suited up," January nodded. "That's why you've been... hammering."

"Yeah," Lucas scowled. He stared down at his plate, and pushed around his sausages with his fork. "I've been dealing with it, by not dealing with it."

"I hear you friend," January sighed. "I spent the first twelve years of my life not dealing with my life."

"It caught up with you though, didn't it," he stared down at the scars on her wrist. "Yeah, I get it now. I thought I could get payback. I thought I could make things right. But none of it brings Marcus back. None of it makes up for me not being there when he needed me. None of it stops it from happening to someone else's brother. I can't keep doing this. I have to change."

"You can stop," January reached out across the table, and laid a comforting hand over his. "Right now, just stop, and deal with yourself. The rest of the world can wait."

"It can't," Lucas recoiled, and pulled away. Then he shut his eyes, and put his hand back on her for a moment.

"I did not mean that to sound that way," he continued. "Working with you, and with Blood Raven, it's opened my eyes to a lot of things. It's made me see what I could be doing. Maybe what I should have been doing all along. But there's still a piece of unfinished business. I can't just walk away from it. I need you to talk to someone for me."

I’m so glad you decided to let us spend some time with Lucas the Lighthammer. Getting breakfast was a welcome bonus as the two superheroes get to know each other quite a bit better. Weaving Lucas’ aviation background into his affinity for flight was a great touch.

January is trusting her instincts opening up to Lucas and, from what I’ve seen so far, I think her instincts are right.

I hope I’m not off base here but, based on the context, I’m thinking the last line of this episode was spoken by January and the ‘someone’ she has in mind is Blood Raven – who knows something about living with regrets and ghosts from the past.


Nit?: ”I read your story was in the Crow Tales blog!”
- - I realize this is dialogue but the inclusion of ‘was’ seems unintentional?

I just made waffles the other morning. That's the only way to do it, with a real iron. None of this Eggo frozen nonsense (unless that's more convenient of course).

Yes it would be nice to change clothes on the fly. Cool. I like that they are getting to know each other and stuff. Let me finish this later... being interrupted.



How many others are there, Florens? In your imagination, are there dozens more across the globe? Hundreds?

It's sort of like when we watched the original Star Wars as kids. There's this sense that the world does not just end with the main characters, there are all sorts of droids and people who are in that movie who don't come near to playing starring roles, so there's this sense of the world being much bigger than it is.

Cool, this episode is great. Learning all sorts of new things about both of them.

I wonder if the rock star who bought it is Kid Rock. Pretty sure KR's up in Michigan, at least that's what my old boss told me.

Ah, so he learns her true identity.

He doesn't finish his breakfast. That's the second time I've noticed somebody not finishing their meal. At least they didn't get interrupted by their phones. Kidding. Sorry to hear about Hammer's brother. I wonder who she wants him to speak to at the end.

Acadian: I really enjoyed writing that "get to know you" scene between January and Lucas. It was nice to have these two supers with their hair down and just being normal.

That someone Lucas wants January to talk to was not Blood Raven. But it is linked to the fight at Cedar Point. Things will start to become clear next episode.

Thanks for the nit. That was a fragment left over from a previous revision.


Renee: I actually do the Eggo nonsense. Well, the Meijer no-brand Eggos. I don't have a waffle maker, and don't really want to spend the money on buying one, or take the time and trouble of making them from scratch and having all that clean up. It would be nice to have someone else do it though! Unlike me however, January does not mind any of that. Waffles are probably her favorite food. Well, up there with pizza and hot dogs.

I have not really thought how many meta-humans there are. Probably tens of thousands, or even millions worldwide. But very few of them would have the right kind of powers, and the right mindset, to become actual capes. Heroes or Villains. That is a great way to get killed after all. Most people would just live normal lives and use whatever abilities they have to make their lives easier. Some people go into the military and intelligence services in their respective nations. Like the Red Baron in WWI. Finally some people like January and Blood Raven strike out on their own as actual superheros. While some others take what looks like the easy path and become supervillains. Why work when you can rip the doors off bank vaults and take whatever you want? Or they lose their temper and unintentionally kill someone with their laser vision, and find themselves on the run afterward, with no other options but a life of crime.

Kid Rock was from Michigan, but I am pretty sure he moved out of state. But Lighthammer does not live in Michigan anyhow. He lives in Cleveland. I was thinking of someone like MC Hammer, who was rich, then lost everything.





* * *
Book 7.10 - Hammer Down
June 18

January finally winged her way home as the sun tentatively peeked over the horizon behind her. The fiery star spilled red and orange paint across Lake Erie. Those brilliant colors faded by the time January soared past the Renaissance Center, and were nearly gone when she darted through her bedroom window.

She heard steps in the hallway outside. A moment later there was a soft knock on the door.

"Honey, are you up yet?"

"Just waking up," January dove into her bed, and yanked the covers over her body. The door creaked as it slowly opened inward. That is when she realized that she was still in her Stormcrow armor. Frantically, she pulled her helmet off and drew the covers up to her neck.

Her mother poked her head into the room an instant later. Her features looked drawn. It was her serious face. The same face she had worn when she had told her about the divorce. January's stomach flopped. She had no idea what might be wrong, but she did not like the look of things at all.

"Come down when you are ready dear," her mother said. "We have to talk."

"Ok mom," January said. She waited for her mother to shut the door behind her before sliding out of bed. Her quick change reverted her attire back to her skater dress from the day before. She changed out of that and into a pair of black and white tights and a tee emblazoned with a raven, along with a quotation from Edgar Allan Poe's poem about the eponymous bird. She had showered before leaving Lighthammer's lair, so she had nothing to deal with on the hygiene front, aside from brushing her teeth and fussing with her hair for several minutes.

So it was not long after that she went down to the ground floor. The TV was set to Worldwide Network News. One of the anchors droned on about her home state's former US Senator Wade Harding's son: Aaron. Apparently the younger Harding was demanding that he be given his convicted father's seat in the Senate. He seemed to think that it was his right by birth. Apparently democracy was a foreign concept to his family, along with the law...

She was about to cut through the living room and make her way to the kitchen, when she noticed the boxes stacked up near the door. January recognized them as the same ones they had used to move out of the house in Warren.

She walked over, and that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach dropped away into a bottomless chasm. She flipped the lid on one box, and saw that it was filled with her mother's clothing. Another box possessed pots, pans, and dishes.

She just stood there and gaped. She knew what all this was. But her brain just could not process it. She could not process anything. None of it made sense. It was like the world had suddenly turned upside down, and January did not know what anything meant anymore.

"I'm sorry January," her mother Barbara's voice came out from behind her. "I have been trying to tell you for days now. But every time I tried, I just couldn't do it."

January turned around, to find her mother standing in the opening between the living room and kitchen.

"But, but..." All January could do was sputter.

"I have to move out." Barbara cautiously crossed the room. "I have to live in Warren for my job at the library. I never could have stayed here, not permanently."

"So you're leaving, alone." January had to fight to push the words past the lump that had formed in her throat. "I thought that we... that this past month..."

"This past month has been one of the best times of my life." January's mother laid her hands gently on January's shoulders. "In spite of everything with your father, and your brother, and the divorce, I will always cherish this time. It feels like I got my daughter back."

"But I never should have lost you in the first place," Barbara murmured. "I never realized it until I came back from my first meeting with my divorce lawyer. I've been lost for a long, long time honey. I just never knew it."

"When I was in college, I had all these dreams about the things I was going to do with my life." Barbara looked up, and a wistful expression crossed her ruddy features. January had the distinct impression that she was not seeing the ceiling at that moment. Rather she seemed to be flipping through the pages of her memory. "I was going to reach out to people. I was going to shape their lives for the better. I was going to change the world, one person at a time, one book at a time. I was going to bring the light of knowledge, and community, and joy to the world."

"But you did," January insisted. "Your job at the library... You don't just stack books on shelves. You're a part of the community. I've seen that first hand."

"I know," the red-haired woman nodded, "and in a way that is true. But I feel like I could be doing so much more. That I should be doing so much more. Stormcrow has shown me that. We can all be heroes in our own ways."

"I forgot that, a long time ago," she explained. "After I had your brother, and your father and I got married... I just fell into this life of work and home, and I stopped seeing beyond that. I've just been going through the motions of life, but not really living it. I didn't even see what was right in front of me all this time. It had to slap me in the face to wake me up."

"Do you... do you regret it, having me?" It took every ounce of willpower that January possessed to pry those words from her lips.

"What? No, of course not!" Barbara gasped in shock. That certainly appeared genuine to January's watery eyes. She leaned in close to hug January, and held on to her for long moments before she finally pulled away.

"Why would you even think that?" she asked. "Wait, is this about what you father said, about not getting an abortion?"

January did not say anything. She felt sick to her stomach. It took all of her will to keep her feet planted firmly on the floor, given how the entire world felt upside down.

"Oh honey, it's not what you think," Barbara explained. "When I was in my third year at MSU I did have an abortion. I had to. I never could have finished school - or had any kind of career - if I hadn't. Then years later when I was out of school I got hired at the library, and I found out I was pregnant again. I was worried they might fire me if I had the baby. But I went ahead and took the chance. I was lucky. I kept my job. A lot of women are not so fortunate."

"That was Julian," her mother went on. "I never regretted having him. Even though it looks like your father did. When I had you years later it was on purpose. I have never regretted that either. You are the best thing I have ever done in my life sweetheart, don't you ever forget that."

January felt tears spill down her cheeks. They were hot and salty against her lips. Her mother gently wiped them away, then ran her hands along her arms and shoulders.

"But that cannot be all there is to my life." Barbara turned away, and paced to the large picture window in front of the house. "I can't just live for my children, or my husband. I lost myself that way. I need to find what I need in life again, to be me again. I need to know who me really is. I think I need some space to do that, for a little while at least."

"And honestly, I think you need your space too January." She turned around to look back at January. "When I was your age, I was living at school in East Lansing. It was my first time on my own in my life, and it opened my eyes to so much of the world. I don't want to deprive you of that experience, of that freedom. Since we have moved here, you have really come into your own. It's like you've grown wings. I don't want to hold you down. I want you to fly, just like Stormcrow."

"Well, maybe not just like her," Barbara feigned shock and clutched at her breast. "You'd give your poor mom a heart attack. But you need to have a place in your life that is your own. I always thought you and Avery would be living together by now. But I guess he can't, with his grandmother's health and all..."

"I did ask him." January stared down at her feet.

"Well maybe you will have a girlfriend that will want to move in with you," Barbara said, "or a non-binary significant other."

January rolled her eyes at that. "Not any time soon," she breathed.

"Never say never," her mother disagreed. "Sean Connery did that, and he still made another Bond movie. There is nothing you cannot do January. Stormcrow has taught me that. We are limitless beings. Our actions create the world we live in."

January had no idea how to feel about that. As she had told Blood Raven, being a superhero had to be about more than just punching black hats. She had never imagined that her own mother would be one of the people she might inspire. That the inspiration was for her to leave, well that was a bitter pill indeed.

"So where are you going to?" January forced herself to be an adult. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Sometimes she was proud of it. But today maturity tasted like ashes.

"I found an apartment on 12 Mile, just back of Van Dyke," Barbara said. "It's not far from the civic center. I could probably walk there when the weather is nice."

"So, when do we start," January looked over at the boxes, and back to her mother.

"As soon as your aunt Branwen gets here," her mother said. "She said she would rent a truck."

Whoa, she fell asleep in her armor! Guess it happens to all of us at some point in our lives.

Uh oh. "We have to talk".



Hate that feeling. But maybe it's for the best. I mean, it's the opposite of teenagers moving away from their parents, I guess. Like, mom tells daughter it's because of her job, but maybe she also feels like she cramping January's style a bit or whatever, even though it sounds like this Witch House is huge.

Mom sounds really idealistic about her past. Almost like a hippy. Or somebody who takes up the cause with Greenpeace.



Whoa.

Okay, yep, there's the real reason. She wants to be her own person basically, now that she's divorced and has the chance. I must say Rosa, that I'm really glad mom is not being portrayed as some wimp who falls apart after she and her husband part ways/ And then all she does is cry and think about him, and try go get him back.

Omg mom mentions Stormcrow again. Yikezoid! Branwen is driving a truck over to help move. Phew.

------------------

Yes, I've done the Eggo thing myself here and there. Not Eggos, but a generic brand sold at my job. Okay, now I'm hungry, again.



Okay, so there is the possibility of there being quite a few metas, but not all of them know about it.That's a good point about most metas not knowing they have the Power. Or the correct mindset or opportunities to discover their power(s).

Not that I am even close to being a meta or a witch, but back when we were kids for instance, my brother and I did a few things which (looking back now) definitely seem to have tapped into some sort of unseen power. We made it rain a few times. Long story, but there was one time we even told our friends we could make it rain, and they didn't believe us. So we did our little thing, and it rained so hard that night, the power went out. Our friends were like NEVER do that again!

Thanks for setting me straight regarding the end of the previous episode. So it was Lighthammer still speaking, saying he had someone he wanted Jan to talk to.

*

The opening paragraph really shows how you can paint a scene with words when you choose to do so. It really gives the beginning of this episode a magical feeling.

Uh oh. Mom’s moving out to find her own way. I love that part of her inspiration to assert her own wings of freedom is, ironically, Stormcrow.

I had to chuckle when Mom mentioned Sean Connery making another Bond movie as I imagined Jan asking, “Sean Connery – did he play James Bond too?”

’But today maturity tasted like ashes.’
- - A powerfully evocative line indeed.

Always neat to be able to relate to characters and how they feel in a story. Seems like that might be harder to do in a superhero story, even if it isn't superpowered people in question. Of course, her specific situation is nothing like mine. But the whole having dreams and feeling like you weren't fulfilling or going to fulfill them is a crushing sentiment. I have felt that a lot. Sometimes I still feel that way.

******

Trying to catch up on what I can. I looked up Wade Harding to see if he was a real senator or one made for your story. Based on what I found, I guess he is just a character for your tale. But I did find out a couple of interesting facts that I did not already know about regarding President Warren Harding, whom Google search was inevitably going to think I meant.

I often think about if and when superheroes' real identities are revealed to the people closest to them in regular life. It's an interesting concept that seems to not get played with enough. I wonder what January's mother would think if she knew that the very superhero who inspired her was someone she gave birth to.

Renee: When I was writing the previous episode it also struck me that it was the opposite of the standard situation of the teenager moving out of the home. Which I found rather refreshing in a way. You don't see it that often.

I hate the wimpy, hysterical mom/wives you are referring to. That is the protagonist's girlfriend in pretty much every gangster movie ever made. I absolutely do not want to portray women that way. So it was important to me that January's Mom will be an important character, and a person in her own right. Her moving out is the beginning of a long journey for her, which will be a major part of Season 2 of the Stormcrow show.


Acadian: I was trying to think of a way to describe the sight of sunrise on Lake Erie, when the thought of putting in the terms of splashing color across the world came to me. I am glad it worked out.

I did love the irony that January's own drive to inspire people to be more is one of the things that is motivating her mother to move out.

So much of this story is about January growing up, even though she was always a very mature person to begin with. This was one of those times that being a grown-up was not much fun.


RaderOfTheLostArk: The only thing different about a superhero story, compared to any other, is that some of the characters can do amazing things. But in the realm of speculative fiction, that is not remarkable. I mean, Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan are a superheros, so are Indiana Jones and Lara Croft, or Jason Bourne. The same with the Champion of Cyrodiil, Neveraine, Dovahkin, an so on. Some are just more blatant about it than others. In the end, every good story is about people though. The rest is just window-dressing.

January's mother Barbara is an important character in the Stomcrow series. Not just because she is Jan's mom. This first season of Stormcrow is sort of her inciting incident to shake herself out of complacency, and seize her own destiny. It is a hard thing to realize that your dreams have fallen by the wayside. I am sorry you have to live with that.

I still do not know if Barbara will ever learn that her daughter is Stormcrow. She might. I know that in Season Two she will suspect it. But I have not decided how January will react. She might own up to it. Or she might ask a friend like Gola to impersonate Stormcrow in public, while she is in the same place as January. I will have to see how it plays out.

The disgraced Senator Wade Harding was absolutely inspired by Warren Harding. Or at least his name was. I wanted a good name for a corrupt politician. Harding really fit that bill, as his administration is a byword for corruption. His son - who will figure prominently in Season Two - is loosely based off of Aaron Schock. Aaron himself will have a confederate based on Jacob Wohl. I change the names of all so I don't get sued of course.



Michigan State Capitol

Dana Essen is based on RL Dana Nessel

Dana Essen (RL Dana Nessel)



Book 7.11 - Hammer Down
June 20

January stood beside the tall spire of the Michigan State Capitol Building. She grasped the slender needle of the finial with one hand, and only one of her feet was able to find purchase on a rounded bulge within the spire beneath her. Her other foot dangled freely in the air hundreds of feet from the earth below. She leaned out, and her wings flexed by reflex. The wind whistled around her, and January smiled. She never felt so alive as when she was high above the ground.

The Michigan State Capitol was a Gilded Age masterpiece of stone and marble. The tall, iron dome above which she perched was painted bright white, while the four story stone structure that supported it was a darker shade of tan. The two main wings of the building stretched to the north and south. While two smaller wings bumped out to the east and west. Massive skylights dotted their rooftops, along with ladders and little walkways to ease movement for workers atop the structure.

That was something January was growing accustomed to seeing. It seemed that these days she saw more of the tops of buildings than their interiors. That rooftop world could sometimes be a hidden environment all of its own, dotted with not only machinery, but even tiny little structures of their own for people to make use of.

January followed the small western section of the building, which she imagined was its rear. A vast parking lot stretched out beyond it, bisected by a red-flagged walkway that ran farther west. The sidewalk continued on past the lot, and crossed over a street that ran from north to south via a small bridge set at ground level. The red walk ran on through a tree-shaded plaza beyond that, which was surrounded by office buildings.

None of those were grand Neo-Classical masterpieces like the one atop which she perched. Instead they were dull rectangular structures of stone and brick, which January imagined housed armies of accountants and bureaucrats. Even farther in the distance the walkway continued through another parking lot. Beyond which rose the semi-circular stones of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and the arc-shaped Hall of Justice behind it.

Well dear subscribers, it seems the Motor City is in the news again. No, it wasn't giant spiders, or neo-Nazis. It was a podcast! By now we all know about Crow Tales, the literary blog put out by our finely feathered friend Stormcrow. But guess what your pal Gilda discovered today? There is now an unofficial companion podcast to go along with it! Okay, so the podcast is not created in the City on the Straits, or officially affiliated with our loveable corvid in any way. But their latest, special video edition did feature none other than local author January Ward. Her novelette This Spell for Hire was featured on Crow Tales a few weeks ago. So clearly Stormcrow is looking out for her peeps in her hometown. Maybe in the future we will be seeing more local talent featured on the show? In any case, be sure to bookmark, like, and subscribe this one.

January's inner capitalist could not repress a smile. That was the second time Gilda had said her name on her show. The first time had created a huge spike in her book sales. With any luck this would do the same, for both This Spell for Hire, and for Artemis Argent. She needed all the money she could get after all. Her bills, and college tuition, were not going to pay themselves, much less gender confirmation surgery. She still had no idea how she was going to pay for that.

January pushed those considerations from her mind. She was here on business after all. She brought up Sága with a voice command, and double-checked the address of her destination. Then her eyes gazed out across that ring of office buildings between the capitol building and the court house. She settled upon a thoroughly ordinary sandstone building among the cluster of government edifices, and nodded in satisfaction. That was where she needed to be.

She leaped out into space with a sideways somersault. Her wings snapped out fully once she was clear of the spire of the capitol dome. They caught up the sky underneath their hagfish feathers, and propelled her across the parking lot, toward the office buildings beyond. She passed by pedestrians here and there, some of whom looked up with surprise, or with phones already in hand.

January came down upon the red stones of the broad walkway in front of the office building. At least she guessed that it was the front. She did see a pair of double-glass doors set into the otherwise uniform row of windows that filled that face of the building. A row of trees set in upraised planters gave some life to the scene, as did a few scattered benches. People in suits moved to and fro, many carrying either briefcases or backpacks.

January brought up Sága once more and fired off a quick text to Duquesne, to let him know that she was there. Then she dutifully filed into the building behind the very professional-looking people. Some stopped to stare. But most simply raised a few eyebrows, or fought to contain smiles. At least until they saw her wings, and realized that they were not cosplay props, but rather real appendages.

She folded them upon her back so they would not get in the way. Clumsily knocking over every trash can in the lobby was not going to earn her any points. Nor would knocking people over. January saw a wide receptionist area ahead of her, and beside it a row of metal detectors manned by police officers.

"Wow you're, I mean, you're really her aren't you?" a young woman in a gray suit asked her.

"Yes I am," January answered. "Really me that is. I mean Stormcrow. I mean, well, you know."

January tried not to let her features show how flustered she suddenly felt. This was supposed to be easy by now. But somehow talking to people in groups never was. Blood Raven made it look so simple. She just overawed everyone so much with her foreboding presence that no one dared to speak with her. Somehow, January knew that was not the route she wanted to take however.

That brought more professional types flocking in. Suddenly everyone wanted to see her, and get a picture of her, and with her. As ever, January did her best to be friendly and accommodating. This was her chance to show that she was a nice person after all, rather than just a fist planted in an evil-doer's face.

"Ms. Crow," Duquesne's ever serious voice rang out across the lobby. "The attorney general is looking forward to meeting you."

January felt a curious sensation of relief at being saved from the Stormcrow fans, along with a new sense of tension. It was not every day that you met the top prosecutor in your entire state. Even ordinary lawyers were intimidating enough. Just a month ago, she could not have imagined such a thing.

But January was doing many things that she never would have imagined just a few months before. She stepped into this the same as every other first, with back straight and head held high.

"Good morning Mr. Duquesne," January forced a smile to her lips as she walked up to the Special Assistant AG. As ever, he was dressed in a dark suit, with a US flag pin on his tie, and sporting a dour expression on his perpetually lined features. His large frame had grown saggy in old age, but still hinted at muscle underneath. He struck January as being a boxer, or some other type of athlete, now faded into his golden years.

"Good morning Ms. Crow." Duquesne waved her past the metal detectors, and deeper into the hallways of the building. He took them to an elevator, which they boarded alone and rode to the top floor.

"You know you can just call me Stormcrow," January tried to break the awkward silence that filled every elevator trip.

"Perhaps Ms. Crow," he murmured.

"And perhaps I could call you Bill?" January offered. The older man simply stared back at her, face a stone. "Or William? Or maybe I'll just stick to Mr. Duquesne?"

It took forever for the elevator doors to open.

When they did Mr. Duquesne led her down a hallway that bustled with more professional people. They passed offices, conference rooms, a copy room, and other office facilities. At the very end of the hall Duquesne paused to knock on the last door. He opened it at the sound of a voice within, and motioned for January to enter.

She stepped inside, but Duquesne remained in the hall, and shut the door behind her. Within January found a simple office, with a wide black desk that sat in front of a pair of American flags. A long window took up one wall, giving her a view of the capitol building beyond.

January noted a coffee cup on the desk with a black cat that brandished a knife. "I am small and sensitive, but also fight me," was written across its side. Beside it were pictures of a blond woman and two young boys. January recognized the woman as the attorney general's wife. The picture of the two of them kissing on the night of her election was usually the first thing that came up when she did a search on the AG.

Sitting at the desk was the attorney general herself - Dana Essen. She tapped a final key on her laptop, then closed its screen. She was dressed in a dark blue suit jacket, with a lighter blue blouse underneath. A Star of David hung from a thin chain around her neck, and a simple wedding band graced her left hand.

She rose to her feet and brushed an errant lock of long raven black hair from her eyes. The light skin of her features was interrupted by laugh lines that creased either side of her thin lips. The smile that now created those lines was wide, and so far as January could tell, genuine. January took her outstretched hand with a smile of her own. But none of that kept her heart from doubling its beat, or a familiar feeling of tightness from forming within her chest. She was not here to fight. But that did not mean she lacked cause to feel nervous, as the darkening sky outside revealed. Not given what she was going to ask.

"I am so glad to finally meet you," the attorney general practically exploded. "Ever since your fight with Lighthammer in that hotel in Southfield, I have been following you. You are practically all anyone in the state talks about these days, especially since you came out. Congratulations on that by the way. I know exactly what that is like. Oh, I am gushing. I do that when I get excited."

"The pleasure is all mine, erm, your Excellency? Your General... ship?" January stammered. She had looked up the proper way of addressing an attorney general the night before. Honest. Of course now that she was standing right in front of one, she could not remember a word of it.

"It's 'the Honorable'." January could see that Essen was trying not to laugh. "Or just madam. But we don't have to be that formal. It really, really is good to meet you. My wife Anna is your biggest fan. She is going to be so jealous that I got to meet you and she didn't. Speaking of which, she wanted me to ask you something."

"Oh, anything," January replied. This was not going anywhere near how she expected talking to her state's attorney general would be. But she had to admit, that was not a bad thing.

"I hope this does not sound creepy, or exoticizing, because that is not the intent." January braced herself. She prayed that some form of transphobic spiel was not about to follow. Instead it was nothing so mundane.

"Anna wanted me to ask about your wings," the attorney general said. "You didn't have them at first. You had a wingsuit right? But now... well... there they are."

Essen emphasized her words by gesturing at the two jet black raven's wings that remained folded up on January's back.

"Oh, yes!" January smiled in her perky phone voice. Her wings stretched out, almost as if they knew they were being talked about. She let them flex gently, so as not to send the papers atop the attorney's desk flying in all directions.

"So she wanted to know, are they mechanical? Did your inventor friend Gadget build them?" Essen went on. "Or are they a part of you?"

"Yes," January answered with a short laugh.

"It's complicated," she went on. "I create them. I transform them from my cape. But they are a part of me. It took me a lot of time and practice, and pressing need, to learn how to do it. To be honest I'm still learning everything they can do. Everything I can do. In fact, I am not sure if I even need the cape to create them anymore. They are as much me as my arms or legs."

The latter idea had not even occurred to January until she put it into words. But now that she had, the thought would not be pushed from her mind. Did she really need to transform the cape? Or could she simply transform herself?

She took a deep breath, and took a moment to center herself. She felt her mana flow through her, and wash her clean like a cool mountain stream. Her elemental mantra ran through her mind, specifically the line relating to Fire. She focused on her wings, and directed her power there. Her will took hold of reality and remolded it into the image she desired.

Fire give me passion and energy. Transform me in the night sky.

The words turned around her in glowing golden script. Not in English, but in Elder Futhark. She closed her eyes, and felt the spell rise about her, changing her. Her wings felt, strange. They tingled. She felt... everything through them, in a way she never could before. It was as if they had always been numb, and now her circulation had finally been restored.

She heard a soft thump, and looked down to find her cape pooled around her ankles. Her wings, on the other hand, rose up around her in a glossy black majesty that she had never seen before. Before the wings had been of hagfish fibers, shaped like feathers. Now they were comprised of real feathers, soft as the down of any bird. January could feel the air from the vents wafting gently across them. She could feel the warmth in the room through them. She could feel her own fingers reach out to touch them. She could feel everything.

"Well that's new," was all January could breathe. But inside, she rejoiced. She could not wait to show Gadget this, or Blood Raven!

"Yes I am," January answered. "Really me that is. I mean Stormcrow. I mean, well, you know."
- - Haha! Jan has still to learn that sometimes ‘less is best’ and probably realizes she should have simply added a smile to her first utterance. This, combined with the awkward elevator ride really shows us how nervous she is. The darkening sky, once inside the AG office was a nice touch. And I was giggling as she fumbled to address the Honorable Excellencyship of Madam AG.

Blessedly, the AG seems quite the fan and well-skilled in putting nervous people at ease. It will no doubt be helpful to have the state's AG as an ally!

A wonderfully done development in the evolution of Jan’s wings!

That's a good point about her seeing the tops of buildings more often than their interiors. How very astute. I always love seeing the roofs of some skyscrapers in California, for instance, and they've got frickin' pools or cabanas way up there.

Gilda Gladfly again. I always imagine her voice as sort of edgy. She manages to catch our attention as we're in the middle of ironing clothes or whatever. Not at all like the hushed tones of the NPR folks featured a few chapters ago.

Yes, I was gonna ask how much she is making from her tales, because she is going to have to pay for student loans eventually since daddy probably won't do it, or maybe never did help her. And I assume Mom doesn't make enough money to support daughter fully if she's working at a library. I have no idea how much gender-changing costs, but I know it ain't cheap. And January does not seem the type to go flying off to Thailand or Mexico to try getting reduced costs there.



Lol.

Cripes, she's meeting the AG. Oh gosh, she really is awkward! Quite endearing though because of this, at least to me.




The Stormcrow Show.

This is good, mostly because I have been that woman, as well. Falling apart, waiting for that phone call from him, only to hear bad news (Oh by the way, I do have a wife...I thought you knew!) when it comes. Fortunately, all of that was in the past. Over time (especially as I got into my 30s) if dating was going badly, I began to just walk away, and not look back. So I can identify with Jan's mother doing the same.

Acadian: January's awkwardness is one of the things that I work on portraying, since it helps keep her down to earth and ordinary, in spite of the wings and lightning bolts.

This was a big step for Jan, meeting personally with the top prosecutor in her state. As she said, so far her "official" contacts are a very short list of people: Trooper Mercado, Mr. Duquesne, and The Sterling Police Chief. AG Essen is a big add to that list.

And finally Jan's wings reach their final evolution. Well, unless I get more ideas and maybe turn them into wings of pure energy of some form or another. When I started writing her, I never intended January to be such a wing-focused character. They were originally just a travel power meant to get her to where the stories were taking place. But since Crystal Death, I have found it more and more appropriate to focus on the wings, and her avian nature. Especially once she began using her wings to fight with.

With that in mind I have given more thought to January's helmet, and decided it is a winged valkyrie style affair, with the top half covered up, similar to how the old Viking goggle helmet looked.


Renee: When I am writing January's flight segments, I typically open up Google Maps and follow the route she takes. That way I can add in little details about what she sees. Thanks to that I am often looking down at rooftops myself. Sometimes I wish I had a drone, just to take some airborne pictures of the places she goes.

In my head I often hear Gilda talking with a 1920's radio announcer voice. But that would be totally off for a modern infotainment announcer. She is very much a tabloid style reporter, so I am sure her voice is catchy.

I do mention Jan's finances in next week's episode. I do not want to get in the weeds of specifics with it. I have come to find that being a little vague about amounts tends to work better than accounting for every dollar, at least when I can. That gives me more wiggle room. But suffice to say, Jan herself is definitely counting every penny. I don't see her ever being rich. Though her mother is going to get a pay raise at the end of Season Two. And of course Blood Raven has an unspecified amount of loot. Enough to own an entire skyscraper, among other things.





As I told Acadian, I have had some ideas on Jan's helmet. I can picture something like this as the base, only black, and without the spike on top.

Then add in the upper right helmet's goggles area built into the winged helmet above


David Bowie - We Can Be Heroes



Book 7.12 - Hammer Down
June 20


"Thank you," January looked back to Essen. "If we had not been talking just now, I might not have thought to even try that. Like I said, I am still learning a lot."

The other woman was at a loss for words. She just stood there and gaped for long moments. January was not sure what to say. She folded her wings up on her back, so they would not be so, overawing. Then she reached down to pick up her cape. She did not imagine that she would be needing it anymore.

"Here," she reached out with the cape and handed it to the attorney general. "This is a gift for your wife."

"But I couldn't..." she stammered, "I can't. It's your..."

"Sometimes I think I rely on gadgets too much," January said honestly. "I think I should be creating my own power from within instead. This is me moving forward, not losing something."

"Ok," the attorney general got out. "I think I can understand that. And thank you, for me, and for Anna. You have no idea how this will make her feel, or our kids. For the last few months you have been the hero our state has always needed."

"We can all be heroes," January said. "Even if just for one day."

"I always liked that song too..." Essen mused. She turned around, and laid the cape down upon her desk with reverence. However, when she turned back, a deep frown was etched across her features.

"I hate to say this, because I really like you," she continued gravely. "But I know why you are here, and I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint you."

"You know?" January's heart nearly stopped. Lighthammer was the only other person she had discussed it with. Not even Gadget knew that she was there, let alone Blood Raven.

"After William - Mr. Duquesne - spoke to me on Tuesday to arrange our meeting I met with Governor Whitaker. We had a long discussion. A very long one, and I assure you we do not take any of this lightly. We do not take you lightly. Nor are we ungrateful for everything you have done."

"As you know the state constitution grants me the right to appoint special agents with the powers of a peace officer." Essen summed up. "But we just think it is too early to grant you full, legal empowerment. There have been other capes who have appeared before, only to retire or disappear shortly afterward. We just think it would be prudent to wait until-"

She stopped when it was apparent that January was fighting to keep from laughing.

"That's not why I am here at all," she shook her head. "I don't care about that. Well that's not true, I do. But like you said, there is no hurry. So long as we can work together, it doesn't matter to me if I have a badge or not."

"It doesn't?" Essen stared back at her blankly. Then she gave out a huge sigh. "I mean, that is great. And of course we can! It is such a relief to have a cape who will walk through that door and just talk to me. Blood Raven has never done that with any of our AGs, ever."

"Well, she has her reasons," January tried not to scowl. She had read up about the '67 Uprising after she and Blood Raven had met with Isaac. A four year old girl had been killed with a heavy machine gun. All she had done to deserve that was walk in front of her window. Even though a National Guardsman had confessed to the shooting, nothing had ever been done about it. Less than a month later Blood Raven had made her first appearance in Detroit. It was not hard to see a direct line between those events, and where her disdain for law enforcement had originated.

"I just came here to ask you a favor," January pushed those thoughts from her mind. She had to focus on the present. "I need to meet with the Ohio attorney general, and soon, really soon. I didn't want to call him up out of the blue, or just show up on his doorstep. Trooper Mercado and Mr. Duquesne are the only legal types I know. So I was hoping you might set something up."

"This is about what happened Monday night at Cedar Point, isn't it?" Essen tilted her head, and narrowed her eyes in thought. She walked around to the other side of her desk, and tapped a button on her phone. "Get me AG Ost, tell him it's an emergency."

"Now what is this all about?" she looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"A ton of drugs is about to come into Ohio," January said. "I mean that literally. Lighthammer found out about it, and the cartel behind it tried to kill him. He has it all: the date, the location, everything. He wants to come in and talk about it. He wants to make a deal."

"What?" the attorney general stared back at January in amazement. "What are you even doing associating with someone like that? Do you know what kind of record he has? He's not as nice as you."

"I know he was there when I needed him at Motor City Pride." January set her hands onto her hips. "I know he's a big reason why I have these wings on my back, rather than just a wingsuit. I know he wants to do something more with his life than he is now. And I know I need to give him that chance."

"You really are as loyal as people say," Essen breathed. "I-"

"This is Attorney General Ost," a male voice rang out from a speaker on Essen's desk.

"Mr. Attorney General," Essen quickly changed gears. "This is Attorney General Essen. I have you on speakerphone in my office. With me is Stormcrow. She has something she needs to discuss with you."

"Right, and I've got Thunderbolt and Riven here too," the man's voice did not sound impressed.

"Mr. Ost, when it comes to thousands of pounds of drugs and a gang of assassins, I don't have a sense of humor." January stepped up to the desk to insure that her voice was clear. "I am Stormcrow, and I must speak with you in person. Now if you have something better to do, I'll just take it up with the FBI. Or maybe Lighthammer and I should just deal with this ourselves. Blood Raven would prefer it that way anyhow."

"Ok, you have my attention," the attorney general from Ohio sounded much more serious now. "What is this about assassins and drugs?"

January reiterated what she had just said to Essen. "Lighthammer wants to come in and make a deal with you on this. He wants full immunity for anything he may have done in the past. In return, he will lay the entire operation out for you. And he will be there to back you up for the takedown."

"That is a very big ask," Ost said plainly. "His record is... troublesome at best. How do I know he's not going to go back to his old ways? I am not going to throw around immunity for someone I'm going to have to turn around and prosecute a week later."

"He wants to put that behind him," January insisted. "I think those three assassins on the Valravn gave him a wakeup call. And I think he's finally coming to realize that what he has been doing has not made anything better. Not for him, or anyone else. He wants to be one of the good guys. He wants to work for you in fact."

"Work for me? Full legal empowerment? Now you are really asking for the moon," Ost scoffed.

"That is between you and him, and can come later, if at all," January said. "For now he wants to stand up for Ohio, just like he stood with me against those Nazis. Now do you want to make the largest drug bust in American history, or should I tell him we are going to handle it ourselves?"

"You've got my interest," Ohio's attorney general said. "Ok, meet with me in my office tomorrow morning, 9 am sharp. Bring Lighthammer, and all of his evidence. If there is something there, we'll work it out."

"Thank you Mr. Attorney General," January breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Oh, and you should bring in the feds too. FBI, DEA, I am not really sure who would be appropriate for something like this, but the more, the better."

"I will see that it's done." With that the line went dead with a loud buzz. Essen punched a button on her phone to cut off her side of the call as well.

"I don't like that man very much," January said sourly.

"Well, he does not grow on you," Essen said dryly. "I hope you know what you are doing."

"So do I," January breathed. She leaned back against the edge of Essen's desk. "I've come a long way from trading punches with Lighthammer in that hotel."

"That is for sure," Essen walked around and leaned up against the desk beside her. "Now you are his advocate."

"He's not the only one." January thought of Isaac, and even more recently Gola. "Sometimes we just need a second chance. None of us are perfect. We all make mistakes, and have things in our past we wish we could go back and change. But all we can do is carry the scars and learn from them."

"You know Crowgirl, you really are nothing like I expected," Essen said quietly. "I mean, you are exactly what I expected. I've seen the clips of you on the internet, and I read your literary blog every week. Anna and I watched your entire interview on Worldwide Network News a dozen times. It forms an idea of you. But the actual you, well is just so much more real than I ever anticipated. You're just a person aren't you? Just a regular person, with wings, doing the best you can."

"Yes," January admitted. "I'm not special. I put my armor on one leg at a time too. I just want to be there for other people, the way other people were there for me."

"Since I am putting all of my cards on the table, there is something else I need to tell you about." January went on to relate the full story behind the Summoner, Nátthrafn, and the Abyssal summonings. Well, nearly the full story. She left out the blood ties which she and Blood Raven had to Nátthrafn, and possibly the Summoner. The same with the fact that her family were suspects. In the end there was little to actually tell the attorney general. Just that the summonings were probably not over, and that she and Blood Raven were working on it.

"I appreciate you telling me this," Attorney General Essen replied. She reached into her desk and pulled out a business card, and scribbled on its back. Then she handed it to January. "This is my personal number. Call me anytime, about this, or anything else. I am always here to listen to you."

January reciprocated with her own number, and of course with a selfie with the attorney general. That seemed to be a tradition. Afterward the attorney general led her out by the roof, and January tried out her new - all natural - wings.

They were magnificent!

Ahah, so now we know who Lighthammer wanted Jan to speak to and about what.

"Mr. Ost, when it comes to thousands of pounds of drugs and a gang of assassins, I don't have a sense of humor." January stepped up to the desk to insure that her voice was clear. "I am Stormcrow, and I must speak with you in person. Now if you have something better to do, I'll just take it up with the FBI. Or maybe Lighthammer and I should just deal with this ourselves. Blood Raven would prefer it that way anyhow."
- - The endearing and awkward insecurities we saw from Jan last episode were dramatically replaced in this magnificent display of how she can really cut through the crap and take charge when needed. I wanted to cheer, ‘You go, Stormcrow!’

She is laying a lot of her own reputation on the line for Lighthammer. Not the least of which is a burgeoning genuine friendship with Essen that could prove to be very helpful in the future. Though nothing in life is certain, from what I’ve seen, I think Jan’s trust in Lighthammer is warranted.

Jan's evolution to real wings has been great. I also love your idea of a winged valkyrie helm for her.

Nit: ”Nor are we are ungrateful for everything you have done." - - delete the second 'are'.

That's a great Bowie song. Her helmet looks very ornamental, like something one of our DnD figurines would wear.



I hear her as one of those reporters from tabloid TV shows (like Hard Copy, when that was on) who speak a little too loud, because it's their job to catch our attention. Sort of like JoJo Siwa, but with a bit more discipline (don't click that link and have your headphones on full blast at the same time, lol)

Whoa, she just gave her cape away.

Nah, she's not there to get a badge. I could have told the AG that. Jan just doesn't seem the type. For one thing, with a badge comes accountability. Just imagine the paperwork she'd have to file! The lawyers she'd have to have, ready round-the-clock to explain somethings incidental which have nothing to do with her work as a superhero. Somebody's windshield shatters as she tries to exterminate a gigantic, astrally-arranged spider, yet SHE gets blamed. She'd also have to deal with warrants, I'd assume. She'd have to determine if probable cause rules apply instead of just going in some place where she heard a scream.

...and so on. Not that she isn't ever going to be held accountable on occasion (lawfully), but having a badge makes everything much more official. Just ask Jack Reacher.

Anyway, that's really cool Essen reads Jan's blog every week. She really has some friends in high places, then.



This has me thinking of that cowbell skit with what's-his-name. "I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like you guys. Only once my pants are on, I make gold records."

I can't believe I watched the whole slimy thing.

Acadian: We are getting back on track with the main plot, after our little diversion into Jan's personal life. Though there will be other diversions in the near future as well.

Jan can be very socially awkward. But when she is pushed, it is her reflex to push back harder. That was on full display when dealing with AG Ost.

Jan is indeed putting a lot on the line with Lighthammer, and with Gola, and with Isaac. She does that a lot.

Nit fixed. Thanks for finding that!


Renee: Jan is a superhero, so something a little showy feels right. Plus the wings on the helmet compliment her own wings kind of nicely.

Wow, JoJo is loud!

You are right, in that in the long run, Jan and a badge do not go together. Her goals and those of the police are not the same. The cops would have wanted Jan to arrest Lighthammer in the first book, Isaac in the second, and Gola in the most recent book. Obviously things Jan was unwilling to do. Plus another person next book. It will take Jan a while to accept that however.

Still, you are right, in that Jan is starting to make friends in high places. Who still might be able to help her in the future.


macole: Wow, I did not get nearly that far into that video. But I have little patience for YouTubers.





Book 7.13 - Hammer Down
June 21


January actually felt good as she flew through the sky. Since Gilda Gadfly had mentioned her appearance on the Crow Tales Podcast the previous morning, her book sales had skyrocketed. The same had happened the first time the super gossip reporter had name-dropped her, when talking about the Stormcrow created Crow Tales blog. Ravi from the Crow Tales Podcast had even messaged her, to tell her that her episode was by far their most downloaded one ever, even though he had only dropped it a few days before.

In the very least, this would pay her bills for a long time to come. She was lucky that Blood Raven was not charging her rent to live in the Witch House. But she still had utilities, food, and everything else in life to pay for. Plus somehow worry about school and gender confirmation surgery. Thank goodness she was still covered under her mother's medical plan, which at least paid for most of her hormone replacement therapy.

A glint of light to her left caught her eye. She turned her head that way, being careful to remain on course southward. A bright flash of white and silver resolved itself into the form of Lighthammer. The super vigilante quickly caught up with her, a grin etched upon his features. He even did a loop around her, showing off his years of flight experience.

She did not take the bait and attempt to match his moves. She had gained a lot of experience of her own in the sky lately. But on that score, he was still definitely the teacher and she the learner. Instead she concentrated on winging her way southward across central Ohio.

There was not much to see below. It was farms, followed by more farms, even more farms, and then just to break up the monotony, farms. Sometimes there were small towns of one or two streets. But mostly it was long stretches of quiet cornfields and pastureland.

It reminded her of Michigan. Once one left the sprawl of Metro Detroit, it was much the same in her home state. Just with more lakes, and in the winter, even more snow.

She made sure not to lose track of the road below her. It was her only way of reliably navigating. Well, aside from keeping the morning sun on her left shoulder. She had already been obliged to land and stop for directions at one mini-mart. She did not want to be late to her big law enforcement meeting because she got lost.

"Hey Crowgirl, you changed up your look didn't you?" Lighthammer shouted over the wind. They were both moving fast, faster than January had ever gone before. That was another pleasant side effect of her new - all natural - wings. Not only were they more sensitive and agile, they were also far more powerful.

"Let me guess, it's your hair," the sometimes partner continued. "No, still blonde. Did you do something to your wings? They look, shinier."

"I've had a makeover," January smiled back. She pushed her wings, and coaxed even more speed from them. It felt good, and still did not fatigue her at all. It was like running when you got into a good, solid groove. She knew that could lay on even more speed, if she really wanted to. But this was a steady pace she could keep up for hours.

"Well, whatever you did, it's working," Lighthammer declared. "Do you know how fast we are going? I am clocking us at 280 knots. That's faster than a civilian prop. One of these days you might even be as fast as me."

"Being... fast.... is not something most guys would boast about," January smiled.

"Oww!" Lighthammer made a show of pretending to wince. "I'm gonna need a fire extinguisher to put out that burn."

The farmlands began to transform themselves into civilization below. First it was a few small cities. Then it became a full-blown urban sprawl. A pair of rivers ran through the city streets and lawns, both running from north to south. Then the long runways of an airport stretched out ahead of her. Both she and Lighthammer swerved far out of their way to avoid possible aerial entanglements. He took the lead from this point on, and January was happy to follow. He certainly knew Ohio far better than she did.

He led her along the wider river on their right, down into the heart of what January was now sure was Columbus. There were golf courses, quarries, and miles and miles of suburbia. Then they came to the heart of downtown. It was a cluster of skyscrapers that rose up east of a sharp loop in the river. The banks of the water here were lined with bright green parks. Farther inland rose museums, theaters, and office buildings. Unlike Detroit, only a handful seemed to date back to the Art Deco era. Most appeared much newer, like the Modernist office tower that Lighthammer led them to.

Made of granite, it stood taller than every other building in the city. January guessed it must be at least forty stories, or taller. Like all office buildings, its walls were filled with rows of windows from top to bottom. January noted that the roof had a helipad built into it, marked out by a yellow square, with a smaller triangle painted within that. The usual array of rooftop machinery was tucked away into a depression to one side of the building, so it did not extend above the landing pad.

January saw several people waiting atop the roof. She circled once with Lighthammer, and used the time to throttle back her speed. Still, she came in faster than she would have liked. She was forced to beat her wings furiously to bring herself to a stop. In the meantime Lighthammer made it all seem incredibly easy, actually diving face down toward the roof, before pulling up in a loop at the last second, before landing gently upon his feet.

"Show off," January breathed quietly, too low for the others to hear.

"If you got it, flaunt it," Lighthammer grinned. January remembered those pictures of him from his home. He had worn that same grin in those pictures where he sat in the cockpit of his A-10 Warthog. Suddenly she did not mind him flaunting his skill. Clearly, flying was what brought him joy in life, just as it did for her. He deserved every ounce of happiness he could squeeze from it.

Four men wearing suits and dark sunglasses stepped up to them. January noted the bulges under their armpits, and the thick rolls of muscle in their exposed necks. They looked like professional wrestlers playing government agents. Then she noted the earpieces they each wore, and wondered if she had been correct on both counts.

A fifth person stepped up. This was a woman with long, jet black hair, and a prominent Roman nose. Like the others she wore a suit, but she carried a briefcase rather than a hidden gun. She brushed the hair from her eyes. A futile effort at their altitude, as the wind only blew it across her long features a moment later.

"Good morning." While the men spread out and stayed several paces back, she walked right up to January and Lighthammer. She extended her hand to shake with each of them in turn. "I am Assistant Attorney General Anaya Baqri. The attorney general and the others are looking forward to meeting you both."

She led them down into the building. As was her habit now, January did not dispel her wings, but rather folded them up on her back. The assistant AG could not help but stare. It was not a novel experience for January, though the reason for it this time was new. The thugs in suits did not look at them, but they did not look away either. They were statues, blending into the four corners of the elevator car, watching everything at once.

"It must be really something, to be able to fly. I mean, without an airplane." Baqri broke the long silence that had filled the air ever since they entered elevator. January had to admire her pluck. She was pretty sure that one of the laws of physics decreed that speaking in an elevator was impossible.

"It is," Lighthammer answered easily. "Nothing ever feels so free, and alive, as slipping the bonds of earth. If you'd ever like to give it a try..."

But the attorney was not looking at him. Her eyes seemed to be only for January. She was used to people staring at her in public. It was part of being a cape. But it was starting to feel more personal than that. The other woman did not have the disgusted sneer or aggressive posture of a transphobe. So she could not understand what the intense interest could be about.

Finally the door opened, breaking the uncomfortable moment. They were in motion once more, with Baqri taking the lead. The floor she led them onto looked much the same as the Michigan Attorney General's office space. January was starting to see that most offices tended to look the same: cubicles, conference rooms, copy stations, and coffee lounges.

"I think someone likes you," Lighthammer leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

January shook her head. Clearly he had been smoking the devil's lettuce. She had learned a long time ago that no matter how much she wished, women did not like her, at least not in that way.

Nice banter between Crowgirl and Lightdude enroute. Your level of research on Lighthammer’s USAF background is thorough and ‘real’ (knots vs mph, using the Warthog nickname for Lighthammer’s A-10 tank-killer). Speaking of knots, Jan’s keeping a good clip indeed with those new wings.

Both capes were true to their respective natures in this episode, even as you continue to develop each. Jan not taking the bait and not trying to show off her new wings too much was in keeping with her less flashy tendencies. On the other hand, Lighthammer’s flair for showing off a bit comes very natural to him. In fact, I was pleased to see Jan even support his flashier style now that she knows his background. Nicely done joint character building.

Interesting interaction with the assistant AG. I’m curious now if that will go anywhere.


Nit: ’Then it became a full-blow urban sprawl.’ I expect you meant full-blown.

I feel like she's on the verge of really breaking into true Fame points. Like, if her book sales continue to climb, and especially if somebody puts all the pieces together (January = Stormcrow) she could wind up being called to appear on Oprah or Ellen. Hmm. I think Ellen is getting passed on nowadays. But you know what I mean. Her fame could potentially become Fame.

I like how Hammer appears as a mere glint, first. Cripes, 280 knots = 322 mph!!!

Oh yeah, good point. So since Lighthammer flew planes in the past, in a way he is a little more comfortable with flying than she is.

Anaya Baqri.... sounds like she's of middle-eastern descent. Maybe I'm wrong. First impression, though.



Yes I am noticing this too. I'm not sure if I agree with the Hammer yet, but maybe she does at least admire the Crow as she struts up with her wings folded up.




She just came out, too. These generations coming up can just do this nowadays see, and it's not as big a deal as it was for Boomers and Gen X. But yes, as macole implies, she's totally annoying, but I also have to watch the whole thing (cringing at times, of course). Because how can somebody have that much energy???

Acadian: Jan's flight is knot something to sneeze at. Her increased flight capabilities will allow me to expand her area of operations in the future. I can see her going to the Caribbean in the near future, and Washington DC somewhere in the long term.

Lighthammer's Air Force background is something that heavily informs his character. He is a pilot, and loves to fly. I even got his callsign (Yard Sale) from a real bomber pilot's callsign.

I toyed with doing more with the AAG, but sadly, it just did not play out. At least not in this book. One never knows about the future however.

That was a full-blown nit, thank you for scoping it out for me.


Renee: January is getting some popularity as a writer now. Which thankfully is allowing her to support herself. Though not in any dramatic fashion. Stormcrow's fame is definitely up there, thanks to her coming out nationally. Now she just has to prove that she deserves it.

I looked up the fastest prop planes to get that 280 knots number. January's speed is improving, and will only get better as time goes on.

Anaya Baqri is indeed Middle Eastern. I forget exactly where I got it from, other than it is a common Arabic and Pakistani name.







Book 7.14 - Hammer Down
June 21


The attorney led them into a large conference room. Nearly a dozen men and women sat in office chairs around the long, oval table that took up its center. A projector sat at one end of the table, and a screen was pulled down across the wall in front of it. The seal of the State of Ohio took up another wall, and several large wipe boards graced the other two.

January recognized the Ohio Attorney General. She had looked him up the day before. He was a pale skinned, thick-set man in his middle years. His red hair was beginning to thin atop his head, and was going to gray in patches of his otherwise neat beard. He wore a dark suit with a bright red power tie, and a golden pin that looked like a miniature police badge was tacked to his lapel.

He stood up as they entered. At a nod from him, the four armed men turned around and left. January imagined that they would be waiting just outside. Assistant Attorney General Baqri remained however, and quietly took a seat at the nearest end of the table.

Her boss did not walk over to greet them, or smile. Granted, he did not spit or glower at them either. Rather he appraised each with a cool, calculating stare, before he finally spoke.

"I am Dale Ost, AG of Ohio," he finally said. Then he nodded to the man who sat beside him. He wore what looked like a military uniform, and sat straight as a ramrod in his chair. He was clean-shaven, and his golden brown skin was marred by a few small scars on his chin. He wore a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and was also in his middle years. Unlike Ost, his frame was lean and solid. He smiled back at January, and its infectious good will practically lit up the room. On one hand his military bearing was exactly what she expected from a top cop. But on the other hand, he looked far too kind and friendly for that role.

"This is Colonel Riker Farmborow," the Attorney General said, "the Superintendent of the Ohio State Highway Patrol."

Ost then gestured to the others sitting around the table. "Also with us are representatives of the FBI, DEA, and ICE."

"Hi!" January tried to rein in her perky greeting voice. She really did. It went as well as it usually did. Aside from the Colonel's friendly grin, the stony faces that stared back at her helped to curb her enthusiasm. When she spoke again, it was in a more subdued tone. "Well, you all know who we are."

"We're here because of me," Lighthammer stepped forward. "I want to go legit, completely above-board. I'm not asking for anything like full, legal empowerment. But the fact is, the gray hat life is not for me. I know some of you people think I belong in prison. Well, I dunno, maybe I do. But I have something to deal with, and I think it is more than worth your while."

"The AG said you had intel on a major drug shipment coming into Ohio." A slender man with a bearded face spoke up. "Sorry, I'm Special Agent Jack Ortiz, FBI."

"I have it all here," Lighthammer produced a thumb drive and held it up to the air. "At least two thousand pounds of heroin is on its way here from Africa. It will be coming in any day now. I have the time, and place, and a good idea of who will be guarding it."

"How did you come by this intelligence?" a woman in a suit spoke up. "Andrea Jackson, DEA. We've been watching the drug scene in Ohio intently. It's been chaos here since the Mexican cartels had their back broken earlier this year."

"Yes," Lighthammer stood a little straighter. "That was me. The trouble is, once the Mexicans were out of the way, the Dominicans and Jamaicans moved in to fill the void. Now they are out of the way too. But there is an East African cartel looking to break into the gap. They've been running tests for the last month, and reaching out to the dealers from the older cartels. They've got most of them lined up now. They just need to supply enough product for them all."

"And that is where this shipment comes in then?" A third person spoke up. This was a tall, pale man. Clean-shaven, he wore round, wire-rimmed glasses, and looked more like an accountant than a federal agent. "Oh, I'm Graham Hicks, Immigration and Customs Enforcement."

"That is where this shipment comes in," Lighthammer explained. "They are going to flood the market. It will drive the prices down. But it will also put the dealers who don't sign up with them out of business. They won't be able to compete. In a few months, they will own it all, from Cleveland to Cincinnati."

"Alright, show us what you have," AG Ost said.

"First, I want immunity," Lighthammer insisted. "No prosecution, for anything."

"Son, if this is what you say it is, that's a done deal, you have my word," the attorney general declared.

"A'ight," Lighthammer said. "That's good enough for me."

He walked around the table, and handed the thumb drive to the AG. The older man sat down and plugged it into his laptop. Well he tried to at least. No USB stick ever worked the first time after all. Then after a few minutes of fighting with the software for the projector, the AG had its contents splashed across the wall.

"The MSC Guyane is a container ship out of Mombasa, Kenya," Lighthammer explained. "It is due to dock in Cleveland on Tuesday, the 25th. On board it contains at least two thousand pounds of heroin. All of it is all locked away in a shipping container, one of thousands just like it on the ship."

"Now I see," the DEA agent nodded her head. "With all the conflict in the West Asia this past decade, the old Balkan Route has been severely curtailed. Now opiates from Afghanistan have turned to the Southern Route. It is moved south through Pakistan and Iran, and from there goes out on ships. Some goes to East Asia and Oceania. But most goes to East Africa, namely Mombasa. It is now the second largest drug trafficking hub in the world. From there those drugs go to other parts of Africa, or up into Europe. It was only a matter of time before someone there tried to open up new markets in North America."

"This is being spearheaded by Ahkash family," Lighthammer said. "One of many drug cartels based in Kenya. They have fingers all the way from the poppy fields in Afghanistan to Africa, France, the UK, and now Cleveland. They hired three assassins to take me out. They nearly succeeded Monday night, but they missed. I guarantee that we will be facing them when we take the ship."

"That was what Cedar Point was all about," the assistant attorney general mused from where she sat beside January. "We had been wondering about that."

"I can provide some intel on these individuals." A blonde woman who had been previously silent spoke up with a strong French accent. Her hair was cut short in a pixie hairstyle, and she wore a black suit that looked sharper than a razor blade. January had to fight not to stare. To say that she was easy on the eyes was an understatement.

"I am Isabelle Moulin, from Interpol." She tapped her phone, then looked to the Ohio AG. "I have just sent you the relevant files."

The attorney general brought up the first of the dossiers. This one was of the long haired sniper, who January had thought wore a suit of roughly-shaped powered armor. She was surprised to find out what it really was.

"This is Crosshair," the Interpol agent declared. "He is a technomorph. As near as we can tell, he does not wear a mechanical suit. Rather all of this gear literally grows from his body. He can seemingly create whatever he desires from it, from guns to phones to x-ray viewers. We believe his real name is Fawad Khan, though that might just be an alias. He is a mercenary from Pakistan. For the past four years he has been working for an Afghan cartel."

"The next is Sludge." Now the projector brought up a picture of the goopy, plastic-like man January had encountered atop the Valravn. "He can stretch and mold his body at will. He can seep under the crack in a door, form himself into a parachute, even increase his size. He might even be able to mimic specific individuals. He also appears to be able to regenerate from any physical injury. So don't waste your time shooting him, or punching him, it won't do a thing."

"Yeah," January mused. "I cut his arm off at Cedar Point. It just flowed right back into his body."

That brought some looks of respect around the table. She was not sure what they had thought of her before. But now at least they appeared to be taking her seriously.

"Finally there is Obsidian," the Interpol agent went on. Now a picture of a tall, muscular African came up. January instantly recognized him as the Man in Black who had punched the stuffing out of her. "He is Jaali Odhiambo, a Kenyan by birth, and assassin for the Ahkash family. He has a long record in Africa and Asia. He is strong, extraordinary so, and appears to be entirely immune to all physical attacks. So again, don't bother shooting him. In fact, it is possible that he absorbs kinetic energy, making him stronger every time he is struck."

January thought about that. Two of them were immune to physical attacks, and the third was a sniper. They were an ideal counter to someone like Lighthammer. His hard light was kinetic energy, rather than thermal like a regular laser. The sniper could shoot him down if he tried to fly, while the other two were completely immune to his abilities.

"I don't want to be Johnny Killjoy, but this could get real ugly, real fast," the FBI agent said. "These three are going to be extremely difficult. All of our meta assets are currently tied up on other missions. We won't be able to shake anything loose in time."

"The Sentinels?" The ICE agent put out.

"We don't recognize them in Ohio anymore," the attorney general frowned. "Not since that incident in Dayton."

"Well that was hardly their fault," Agent Jackson of the DEA spoke up.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was," Colonel Farmborow shook his head. "Someone had to take the blame, and it wasn't going to be the governor."

"Did we turn invisible?" January stood up. The table full of law enforcement agents all turned their heads to stare at her and Lighthammer. "We are in this, to the end."

"You too, Stormcrow?" The Ohio State Highway Patrol's Superintendent raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you were just here to make an introduction. Or was I incorrect?"

"You were incorrect," January insisted. Well, of course he was not. January had never intended to add more than moral support. But she could never just sit by while Lighthammer took on three very scary assassins all by his lonesome.

"What about Blood Raven?" Special Agent Ortiz asked. There was no mistaking the eagerness in his voice.

"She will be sitting this one out," January scowled. "We have another investigation we are working in Michigan right now."

Blood Raven had already made it quite clear that she wanted no part of Lighthammer's drug war, his aid at Motor City Pride notwithstanding. And Ryo was just not ready for something like this. It was too soon, for anyone. She never could have faced something like this her first real time out.

"The two of us can handle this," Lighthammer insisted. "I wasn't ready for them the last time. Now I am. We have more than one trick up our sleeves."

January saw that they were looking at her now.

"I have fought mercenaries, robots, and Nazis," January declared. To underscore her words, lightning cracked loudly somewhere outside of the building, and caused the lights to flicker through the conference room. "I have faced down a nightmare from beyond this world, and I destroyed it. If these creatures dare cross us, I will smite their ruin upon the... well... dockside."

"I kind of lost that in the end there didn't I?" she whispered to Lighthammer.

"Maybe just a bit," he shrugged.

"Okay, let's be real," AG Ost stood up. "There is no way in hell that we are going to just sit back and twiddle our thumbs while a literal ton of drugs comes into Cleveland. Let's make this happen people."

A nicely presented meeting with a well-developed and plausible threat – both from the drugs and the trio guarding them. The Interpol Pixie fills in some sobering details as to the challenge they face.

You shed some nice light on the fact that there are white hats who work with authorities. . . and black hats who are just as daunting on the other side of the law. I imagine that the best way to thwart bad capes is with good capes.

No surprise that Stormcrow is all in for this. The lightning and her hero-epic words were nice touches – even as she pokes fun at herself for the dramatic flair.

Ohio's AG has a red power tie. That's so odd. I don't know why, it just stands out. Whole different world for me, I guess. In a way, it is good Jan remains perky under such a serious situation. Just because it portrays how she's now being thrust into this other world I was just talking about.

Uh oh. ICE is there. Why is ICE there? Oh, this [censored] is international. Get it, now.

Lighthammer says "a'ight!" See, he's being himself as well.



So true. So very true.

Wow, Interpol, too.

I was going to ask about Blood Raven, too. I don't know all of her powers, but if she can maybe do some sort of Absorb magic, maybe that's the way to take care of Sludge and Obsidian.

Jan's sermon at the very end sounds like something Branwen would have said.

Acadian: January continues to move up in the world of supers. Now she is meeting with Interpol Pixies! Seriously though, these last few episodes were a way to not only move this particular story along, but also to show her continuing to take a more public role in her super life.

In a way writing a superhero story has made me realize how similar they are to westerns, and to medieval folklore like Arthurian legends. These are simple stories of good vs evil. Ones in which individuals rather than monolithic government organizations take up the fight. It is Champion vs Champion. The only real difference is whether they have a suit of shiny armor and a sword, a six-shooter and a ten gallon hat, or a cape and cowl.

January cannot sit by during a fight. So even though she had not intended to get involved. She is getting involved. That is why she is a champion in the first place.


Renee: The Ohio AG was definitely a guy who would big stuff, and try to show off his power and influence. Hence the red power tie. Of course I have no idea what the real Ohio AG is like. I only found a picture of him. So I invented his character whole cloth.

There is a lot going on here, so it will be a big, inter-departmental task force that goes after this international drug shipment.

Blood Raven's flair for the dramatic is indeed rubbing off on January. As she becomes more comfortable with her power, and more used to speaking in groups, she is more and more willing to make an impression.





As always the locations described today can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map



Book 7.15 - Hammer Down
June 22


"So how does it feel to be a swinging bachelorette?" Gadget's voice sounded in January's ear.

She winged past the star-shaped earthworks of Fort Wayne, which she imagined had been overgrown with grass for at least a hundred years. The 19th Century fortress was dominated by a tall, rectangular barracks made of limestone. It clearly dated back to the same bygone era, with the long row of gabled dormers that jutting from its slanting roof, and a Neo-Classical peak that topped the center of the structure.

January half-expected to see Blood Raven marching upon the old historic site's battlements. For all that she knew the older heroine may have even served there when she was in the Union Army, back in the Civil War.

"It's quiet," January murmured. She did not say empty. But she certainly thought it. Just like old Fort Wayne, the Witch House felt barren with no one to share it with her.

"It must make the whole caping thing a lot easier," Gadget offered.

"Yeah," January muttered again. She no longer had to check to see where her mother was before flying out the back window. Nor did she have to make excuses about where she was going. She ought to be happy. But somehow she was not.

She followed the Detroit River on to the north and east. Wide lots piled with gravel or ore spotted the American shore on her left. So too did other docks, and even the silos of a refueling station for freighters. To her right were the green shores of the Canadian side. Well, except for the gray and white hills of concrete and salt piled up in their own industrial complexes.

Straight ahead was the Ambassador Bridge. The blue-green suspension bridge was another holdover from a bygone era, this one being the Roaring Twenties. Two giant towers supported the long span across the river, with each trailing long suspension cables in either direction. From these countless rows of suspender cables dropped to the road surface below, holding it above the waves. January had read that it was the busiest crossing on the US-Canadian border. The cars and trucks that filled its span certainly supported that statement.

January called upon Air to give her lift. She soared up higher and higher above the green waves of the river below. The steel girders and cables of the bridge filled her vision. That brought her above the massive tower on Detroit side of the river. She allowed her wings to snap back into a cape, and dropped lightly to one of the giant letters that spelled out "Ambassador Bridge" atop the towering structure.

She squatted down, and closed her eyes. She stretched out with her astral senses. She felt for the poppets that she and Blood Raven had enchanted. One by one, she touched their auras, Cassandra, Pythia, Sibyl, Calypso, and the others. All were still humming along just fine, constantly searching for any sign of an Abyssal being summoned. January knew that she did not have to consciously activate the link between herself to them in order to receive their warning. But they were her first magical creations. They were special that way. Besides, it was good for her to practice her astral muscles. She still had a lot to learn after all.

The honking of horns brought her back to the mundane world. She opened her eyes and let the magical one slip away. Cars and truck beneath flashed their lights at her, and she waved back with a smile.

She took a great leap, clearing the massive steel pillar with a few feet to spare. She allowed herself to fall into a swan dive, with arms stretched out to either side. The wind whipped at her face, and the green waves of the Detroit River rushed up nearer and nearer.

She snapped out her wings and arched her back. Air filled her wings, and she angled more and more out of the dive. Gravity tugged at her with jealous claws, and it felt like her body weighed a thousand pounds. But she was Air. She was a crow. She pulled from the dive, and shot back up above the waves of the river.

Her face was wet from the water that sprayed off the river as she skimmed over its turbulent surface. She changed the angle of her wings, and transformed her increased momentum into altitude. She soared back up into the sky, even as she neared a stall. Finally she evened out, and beat her wings ever onward as she flew along the river.

By now the Canadian side of the river had transformed into a narrow strip of parkland that stretched along the river's edge. Behind it rose one and two story residential homes, sometimes dotted with taller apartment buildings.

On the American side sat West Riverside Park. It was a green expanse that literally glowed with life. The space was filled with brightly lit carnival rides, and long rows of tents and concession stands. January saw several stages for musicians, and a huge area was filled with food trucks. Jet skis roared back and forth just offshore, their pilots guiding them through jaw-dropping feats of acrobatics.

It was the River Days festival. The reason January was here. Just in case the Summoner struck. She had to admit, the whole thing looked like a lot of fun.

January banked toward the park, and soared over the festival taking place below. She crossed over Jefferson, which bounded the park on the left, and nosed herself down toward the tall, imposing structure of the post office. This was not an ordinary branch office, but a nearly ten-story structure of brown sandstone, ringed with an upraised parking lot and loading dock.

January pulled back over the roof, and beat her wings furiously to arrest her momentum. Once she came to a halt, she folded up her wings upon her back. She dropped the rest of the way to the bright white polyurethane foam that covered the roof. She landed lightly, and felt the roofing material bend slightly under her feet.

A pair of small structures rose from the rooftop to the northeast. At the far end of the building beyond them rose several more stories of the building, including the massive air conditioning units that serviced the entire edifice. In the distance rose the three skyscrapers of the Riverfront Towers apartment complex. Farther still loomed the concrete and steel jungle of the Downtown landscape, dominated by the Renaissance Center, as always.

"Has your reconnaissance borne any fruit?" Blood Raven stepped from behind one of the smaller rooftop structures nearby. January was not surprised. She had felt the other woman's presence after all.

"I went down all the way to Grosse Isle." January shook her head. "The only thing magical I felt turned out to be some Wiccans doing a summer solstice celebration in one of the parks. It looked really nice."

"Perhaps we might attend one in the future, once this business with the Summoner is over," Blood Raven ruminated. "I go to many in my identity as a writer. They are very positive, life-affirming events. Your mother might come as well. It could be a family outing."

January could not help but to frown at the mention of her mother's name. She turned away from the other woman, and allowed her gaze to travel across the sea of humanity that filled the River Days festival beneath her. She did not really see them however. She simply felt the yawning spot in her home that her mother had once occupied.

"You are still disturbed over her moving out?" Blood Raven observed.

"I know it's stupid," January said. "She told me before we even moved into the Witch House that she could not stay there, because of her job. But I guess I just didn't want to think about that. Things were just, going so well, I guess I didn't want any of it to change."

"Feeling loss is never stupid," Blood Raven said. "You have every right to feel that way. Yet I should be remiss were I not to remind you that she yet resides a scant few miles down the street from you. For that matter, you have that book signing at the library on Monday."

"I know," January nodded, "I know."

"I guess, I've just never been on my own. Not for once in my whole life," she went on. "It's just so... quiet. The house feels so empty when I'm the only one in it."

"Perhaps you should adopt a pet?" Blood Raven offered. "The Detroit Zoo might have a lion or tiger in need of a home."

"You didn't watch that TV show about the guy and the big cats did you?" January laughed.

"Nay," now it was Blood Raven's turn to shake her head. "Cray did. It was - how do you say it - cringey?"

"Yeah," January stared down at her feet. "Well, maybe a nice friendly dragon or basilisk will need a home some day. Until then, I don't think I'm ready to take care of another life form."

"Be careful what you wish for..." Blood Raven breathed.

"I know, I might get it," January finished the saying. She scanned the crowds below, wondering if one of those shapes down there might be the Summoner who had eluded them so far.

I just noticed you've been adding dates lately, under each chapter heading. June 22, it says. Must be the final editing date, because yesterday (publish date) was the 26th. And so I wondered how long you've been doing this, because my memory sucks and have you been adding dates all along? Went back a few pages, and for once my memory has not betrayed me. This is a new thing, those dates.



Very true.

I have known you on the Internet now for about 10 years, Florens. Reading hundreds of your posts over the years, I know you're not a lover of 100% Grade A pure good versus evil. You have a need for gray characters, too. Blood Raven fills this need most of all.

I also think it's good she feels out for those poppet thingies here and there, rather than receive any info they provide passively.

Ah, she's being proactive. Getting to the festival before the Summoner possibly strikes.

Cripes, Raven scared me! As usual, I love the way she phrases things. I'm reading every word. The word 'remiss' for instance. I know this word. I've read it (or heard it in a movie) at some point, yet I can't think of any particular time anybody has ever used it, in everyday speech.

I was going to say an owl, but January should get something Earthbound, I think. She already has a multitude of crows as "pets" in a way. I don't think a large cat would be good; how would she feed it and take care of it? She'd need a huge area to keep it as well. All of this would attract attention. There's also small cats. They pretty much take care of themselves. Something more unique, though. Everyone expects there'll be cat(s) in a Witch House.

Hmm, maybe even something supernatural.

‘She snapped out her wings and arched her back. Air filled her wings, and she angled more and more out of the dive. Gravity tugged at her with jealous claws, and it felt like her body weighed a thousand pounds. But she was Air. She was a crow. She pulled from the dive, and shot back up above the waves of the river.
Her face was wet from the water that sprayed off the river as she skimmed over its turbulent surface. She changed the angle of her wings, and transformed her increased momentum into altitude. She soared back up into the sky, even as she neared a stall. Finally she evened out, and beat her wings ever onward as she flew along the river.’
- - A wonderful depiction of Stormcrow’s growing skill. With probably a hint of showing off for those on the bridge.

Ahh, and we come to our next destination – the River Days festival. Yes, it certainly seems a likely target for the Summoner.

I wonder if Jan will be learning a ‘Find Familiar’ spell?

Renee: I am now including the dates because that is when each episode takes place. You asked me about that before, so I decided to put them in. I wrote the current chapter/book a year ago!

A long time ago (in the misty dawn of Book 6 - Eloise) the team had a council of war in which Blood Raven explained the series of Abyssal summonings, and how she had adopted a strategy of trying to preempt them by being present at every major event. So she and January being at River Days is just keeping with her already adopted strategy.


Acadian: I never realized how many major events there are in Detroit until I started writing this. Practically every weekend in summer there is a festival, race, or what not. Sometimes more than one at the same time, like when the Grand Prix was the same weekend as Ferndale Pride. I made a list of all of them, so I could plot what would be happening all through the timeline.

I am sorry, that was not Chekov's Pet back there. I don't really have any plans for January to adopt a pet just yet. She was just feeling lonely, suddenly living all by herself in a great big house.







Book 7.16 - Hammer Down
June 22


"I spoke with the Ohio Attorney General yesterday, about Lighthammer," she ventured after long moments of silence.

"About his drug war," Blood Raven shook her head. "You should not allow yourself to be drawn into such things."

January set her hands to her hips and stared back at the older woman. "He was there for both of us when we needed him," she retorted.

"He was," Blood Raven nodded. "That does not alter reality. His foolhardy crusade against the peddlers of narcotics is doomed to fail. Do they not teach the law of supply and demand in schools these days? So long as someone wishes to purchase a commodity, another will find a way to provide it. Interdiction does not halt the trade. It only serves to make it more perilous. Which in turn inflates the value of the product, and insures that only the most violent and desperate blackguards are willing to partake in it. Has everyone in this country forgotten Prohibition already? It transformed the American Mafia into a power to be reckoned with. This asinine War on Drugs has done the same for the drug cartels. It is a fool's errand, one that only fills prisons with those too poor to afford a real legal defense. Which begs the question of whether that is the sole reason for it in the first place?"

"Yeah, I get that," January frowned. "He gets it too. He wants out. This is his chance to do it cleanly, legally. I need to help him do that."

"You must follow the dictates of your conscience," Blood Raven sighed. She walked to the edge of the roof. A sudden burst of wind picked up her cape, and sent it snapping out dramatically beside her. "But consider that there is no shortage of windmills to tilt at in this world. Pick and choose the battles you invest yourself in with care."

"About that..." January stepped up beside the elder heroine, and joined her in gazing out across the sea of festival goers below.

"I talked to the Michigan Attorney General as well," January went on. "I told her about the Summoner."

January braced for the other woman's explosion. But Blood Raven said nothing. She merely shook her head, and continued to stare ahead.

"This complicates matters," the other woman eventually spoke. "Please tell me that you did not relate our familial involvement?"

"Of course not," January insisted. She could conjure little good will for her father or brother. But even she did not want to see the Emergency Response Team breaking down their doors in the middle of the night. "I just think that we should be reaching out, and forging relationships. We are not the only ones in the world after all."

"What aid do you believe the police might be able to provide?" Blood Raven turned to face January. "They are utterly incapable of tracking a magician such as our opponent. Were we to have any real suspects..., well, you saw what happened to the Mills family when the police 'investigated' them. Would you care to see more of that rendered upon people such as those Wiccans celebrating the solstice?"

"No, of course not," January insisted. "But keeping this to ourselves feels like ego. Being strong doesn't mean standing alone. It means standing together."

"As much as you probably think it pains me to say it, I do agree," Blood Raven said. "However, I wonder if you have considered all of the ramifications of making others a part of this? Should our enemy truly be a family member, your father or brother say, do you really want the police involved? Do you want the news involved? Every reporter in the state would investigate your family. They will investigate you. Even if they do not discover you are Stormcrow, what do you think that will do to your career as a writer, or your mother's life? You will forever be the daughter, or sister, of a murderer. Do you wish that to hang over your head for the rest of your life?"

"So what, we put people in jeopardy just to protect our good name?" January exploded. "We can't do that."

"It is my utmost desire that no more lives are lost to this Summoner," Blood Raven insisted. "Yet I honestly see no way that involving the constabulary might mitigate that likelihood. As I said before, they are not capable of dealing with this. There is little enough that they are of use for..."

"So then what do we do, if it is my father, or brother," January asked. "What do we do when we catch them?"

"I will kill them," Blood Raven's eyes burned scarlet against the bright blue sky behind her.

"Just like that?" January waved a hand in exasperation. "You're awfully cavalier with other people's lives. We can't just go around killing whomever we feel like."

"I take none of this lightly great-granddaughter, nor should you," Blood Raven replied. "These are no mere thieves or thugs that we face, nor even terrorists such as those Nazis. The law can have such creatures. Nor is our foe some misguided acolyte who is but recklessly using knowledge they have stumbled upon. That was your great-grandfather Jack. He could have been forgiven, could he have been dissuaded from continuing his path. This Summoner is not even a being such as Gola, who has no choice but to take lives in order to survive."

"Rather, again and again, our adversary has called up the Creatures of the Abyss. You have faced them, there is no mistaking what they are. Yet they have deliberately continued this crusade, and intentionally expanded their methods to include murder. Cray was correct. The Summoner has a taste for this, and will continue until we stop him, or he succeeds in calling an army of Abyssals to blot our world from existence."

"I know what you are saying," January said. "But I feel that death should be the last resort, not the first one."

"I should gladly seize upon another solution, were one available," Blood Raven laid a hand on January's shoulder.

"This is the curse upon our family," the elder heroine continued softly. "We are Nátthrafn's means of returning to this world. I fear that will be so for eternity. Were I truly as bloodthirsty as you would seem to think me, I should exterminate every drop of our blood. Yet I cannot bring myself to perpetrate so heinous an act, in spite of what not doing so might cost the world."

"This is now your curse as well great-granddaughter. Even should we stop this Summoner, when we stop them, this danger will never vanish. One of your children, or grandchildren, may well take up this dark crusade once more. This will be their curse too."

"Well, I don't see is any chance of me having children," January glanced down at herself. Even if she ever had surgery, when she had surgery, she would never be able to conceive a child. Before having surgery..., well that was just too gross to consider.

"One never knows. This world is a much wider, and stranger place than any of us can dream." Blood Raven squeezed tightly upon the armored plate covering January's shoulder. "In any event, this burden falls upon us, on us. It is our curse, our doom, and we cannot escape it. We may not ask another to bear this hardship in our place."

"Like most people, I used to dream of being a superhero," January sighed. "I dreamed of being able to fight back against the bullies. I dreamed of being able to fly free of this world, and free to simply be myself. I never imagined it would be anything like this."

"None of us may choose the circumstances of our birth, or the world we are brought into," Blood Raven said. "But we all have power within us. How we nurture that power, and how we use it, that is the true test of our character. Whether we are magical or mundane, superhero or ordinary citizen, matters not. We all make the world what it is. Whether we choose the easy path, or the difficult one, creates the world we will live in."

"I know the world I want to live in," January insisted.

She stared down at the throngs of festival-goers below. That was the world she wanted, one where all people were free to live and love life, without fear and recrimination. She wanted a world in which the circumstances of one's birth did not dictate the course of their life. She wanted a world where a person could live their dreams, without crushing those of others. She would fight for that world.

She prayed that Blood Raven was wrong, and that their enemy was not a member of their extended family. Yet she feared the other woman was correct, and that there was truly no escaping their blood.

I love Blood Raven’s historical (and accurate) perspective on the law of supply and demand. As well as the older heroine’s advice here:
"But consider that there is no shortage of windmills to tilt at in this world. Pick and choose the battles you invest yourself in with care."

Blood Raven and January play off each other wonderfully. Jan can sometimes act impetuously and Blood Raven can sometimes allow her cynicism to temper her willingness to take action. The two of them together have a more effective ‘balance’ and perspective than either alone. This episode really reinforced what a superb compliment they are to each other and how they each influence the other, overall, for the better.

Yes, as you may know, I am sort of obsessed with dates. It's because whenever I go back to read something which I wrote years ago, I like to have some sort of reference with time. Even if this reference is in-game, and not Earth time. Anyway, glad to know I have influenced. That's amazing: what we're reading now was written a year ago. Wow wow wow.

Jan and Raven disagree about the Hammer. I like that the crow is standing up to her centuries-old relative. I mean, remember, she's still pretty new at all of this, right? Not the acrobatics, not the ability to fight, but the ability to fly, the crusade she's donned against Evil in the Michigan area. It's the grasshopper butting heads with the master. Yet, I also think the master is allowing the grasshopper to do what she will. Make her own mistakes (if they are indeed mistakes being made). Or... maybe not. Maybe Raven has it all wrong.

We shall see.



Love the way she speaketh. Any modern sort would say "Like, do what you want, dude." Raven makes every phrase into a small work of prose.



Great line.

AT the end I can just imagine she wants to be at that festival, having some fun. But she's also in the position of being watchful.

Acadian: Blood Raven remembers when you could walk into a shop and buy cocaine and opium. Just like she remembers when it was illegal to buy beer. This whole drug war business is absolutely asinine to her. But then a lot of things governments do are.

Jan and Blood Raven make a great pair. They each play off one another, and balance each other out really well. They make a great partnership.


Renee: January is very new to this. But she is stubborn, and a fighter. That's is why she is doing this in the first place. She cannot walk away from the Good Fight. OTOH, Blood Raven knows all this, and she knows that telling January that she cannot do something is only going to insure that she will indeed do it. If every parent does not know that about teenagers, they sure ought to! As you said, she knows that January has to live her own life, and make her own mistakes if it comes to that.







Yoga Crow Pose pic

Yoga Flying Crow pic

Ôkami video game

Ôkami in folklore



Book 7.17 - Hammer Down
June 23


January was back on the Post Office roof the next day. The River Days festival played out beneath them once more. Bright lights danced from the seas of rides, along with the mechanical roar of their engines, the clatter of steel on steel, and the music that blared from their speakers. People on jet-skis zipped back and forth along the riverfront, and performed acrobatic acts such as mid-air loops. Food trucks were packed together in the center of the space, and filled the air with the aroma of their treats. It was a veritable sea of humanity.

"You have already learned to use your aetherial senses to feel the presence of nearby people, and to sense their magical or meta-human power." Blood Raven stood facing the festival, hands on her hips. As ever, her cape flowed and flapped slightly around her, even though there was no wind. "You can also use it to sense the intent of others. Strong emotion creates a notable impression upon one's aura. It moves brightly about one filled with joy. Upon one intent to do murder, it will be a cloud of darkness."

January sat atop the white polyurethane-coated roof of the building. Her legs were splayed out to either side of her in the side splits. With her eyes closed, she leaned forward and put her weight upon her hands. From there she lifted herself into the air and pulled her legs in, knees beneath her shoulders. She balanced there in the Crow Pose, and felt out with her astral senses.

As always, Blood Raven shone in the magical realm like a supernova. She was a wellspring of power. January had to take a moment to effectively shade her magical eyes from the great font of energy that was her mentor. Then she was able to feel out farther along. Beneath her, she felt the auras of hundreds of people within the massive postal facility. They hummed away like bees going about their daily tasks, which felt appropriate to January, since these people were working.

Farther beyond January began to feel the energy signatures of those on the street behind her. Like the postal workers, they felt ordinary, just individuals living their daily lives without comment. Then finally she came to the festival. These auras stood on in stark contrast to the others. They were charged with energy. The difference between the two was like comparing plain old corn flakes to double-frosted sugar nukes. The festival-goers were bursting with what she read as excitement and happiness. Their power moved about them in bright patterns, just as Blood Raven had said in her understated manner.

"Some have even learned to use their senses to detect impending danger," Blood Raven continued. "A few have honed that sense to the point where they need not even concentrate. They are simply aware of threats before they materialize."

"Like the Spider was back in the day," January murmured. "They say he had a sense of all incoming danger. He could dodge bullets because he moved before they were even fired."

"Yes, much like that," Blood Raven agreed, "He was a meta-human, rather than a magician. Yet the principle is the same."

January turned her Crow Pose into a Flying Crow. She did so by lowering her left knee to just above her elbow. At the same time she stretched out her right leg straight behind her, angled slightly skyward. She breathed gently in and out, and her muscles sang with the effort.

She felt someone approaching from within the building. They were rising between the floors. But not up the access stair that led down into the bowels of the structure. This was in an empty spot, where no other auras were near. January tried to concentrate upon it, but the harder she tried to discern it, the more it slipped from her grasp. A moment later it was gone completely.

"I thought about what you said." Ryo's voice rang out behind her. January felt her heart leap. She turned back out of reflex. But her shifting weight caused her to fall in a heap upon the springy material of the roof. She rolled with it, and came back up on her feet like a cat. Just like a cat, she pretended she had never fallen in the first place.

Even Blood Raven whirled about, and her cape snapped in the air about her armored frame. She stepped closer, and January noted a smile upon her blood red lips.

"Impressive, most impressive," she said. "You have been practicing."

Ryo stood on the roof a few feet away. Even though it was past noon, the air around him seemed dim, shaded, as if the light had been leeched from it. He was shadow in that darkness, that seemed to want to slide away from January's eyes whenever she tried to focus on him. It was as if he had partly faded from reality, and was not entirely there anymore.

January fixed her astral senses upon him specifically. Now he sprang into focus. She felt the powerful current of his magical energy there, warping reality about him like a black hole.

"I have been practicing," Ryo agreed. "I must, if I am going to be a superhero."

"Then you decided to do it after all," January breathed. "You know you don't have-"

"Of course I have to," Ryo cut her off. "How can I not? I am a part of this world after all. I cannot hide in the shadows my entire life. I must be a part of it."

With that the shadows that had previously clung to his frame slid away. He sprang clearly into the focus of January's meat eyes. He was dressed all in black, with a balaclava mask covering his head and face, except for the strip of flesh around his eyes. A katana hung from his hip, with a black-wrapped hilt and disc-shaped guard. January recognized it of course. According to Ryo, it had been in his family for generations.

"We shall have to refine your attire," Blood Raven noted with a critical eye. "I shall instruct Cray to contact Mr. Blackwood, and see to it that the proper amount of dragon silk is forwarded to him. Hardened plates may require longer however. In any case, we shall need your exact measurements of course."

"Mr. Blackwood?" January asked.

"He makes super suits, at least most of them," Ryo said plainly.

"Yes, he tailored my current armor," Blood Raven asserted. "He is a meta. Not an inventor such as Gadget. Rather his abilities appear to run toward molecular rearrangement. This allows him to sew his suits whole cloth, so to speak."

"Wow," January thought about that for long moments. She had never really thought about where all those suits came from that every superhero and villain wore. She had just assumed that as Gadget had done, everyone made their own. But expecting everyone to be a seamstress, or blacksmith, was clearly unrealistic.

"I think Gadget has plenty of cubic born nitride lying around," January offered. "I know he's been working on something lately..." January did not say what she thought that might be out loud. She did not want to steal his thunder after all. Nor his fusion, if what she suspected was true.

"You shall require a new sword as well," Blood Raven stared at the weapon appraisingly.

"This has been in my family since before they came to America." Ryo took a step back, and clutched his katana with a protective grip.

"Exactly," Blood Raven said. "It creates a direct link between you and your alter-ego. How long until it transpires that someone recognizes it, and you, by association?"

Ryo was silent, and stared down at the white panels of the roof under their feet. January felt for him. But Blood Raven was right. There could be no ties between their double-lives. Being a closeted queer person for half of her life had taught her that.

"Fear not, I shall forge you a new sword," Blood Raven said casually. "I have not done so in over half a century. It shall be good practice."

"You forge swords?" The Japanese-American man asked.

"I do a great many things," Blood Raven intoned. She put out a hand and opened her fingers. January felt magic stir there, folding space and time around her hand. A moment later she held a sword in her hand. It is a leaf-bladed longsword, with a double-edged blade made of black steel, that was cut through with watery, irregular patterns of silver-white.

Ogham Runes were etched down the blade. January could not read the script. But she did not have to. She heard the sword repeat the words across the astral. She could not tell if they were in Gaelic or English. But she understood them as clearly as she saw the raven sword before her.

The raven ravenous
Among corpses of men
Affliction and outcry
And war everlasting

The crossguard under the blade was gleaming black, and carved with the likeness of a pair of raven's wings. In its center was a raven's head seen from top down. That gave it a triangular shape, with beak facing the fuller of the blade and eyes that glowed red. The grip below is wrapped leather the color of dried blood, and the bronze pommel was shaped in form of the tail feathers of a raven, forming a "V" shape that trailed to a point at the end.

January could sense that the enchantments upon the blade would render it unbreakable, and likely able to cut through most any physical obstruction, perhaps many magical ones as well. She could not guess what other surprises it might have in store. But she had no doubt that there was even more to the weapon than met the eye, physical or astral.

Something about it also felt familiar. January saw her hand reach out to it. The sword answered with the croak of a raven. It reached back to her. Not in the physical world of course, but in the astral. It felt, familiar, like it was a part of her, or she was a part of it.

"This is Samhain," Blood Raven declared. "It knows you. I forged this steel using carbon from my own bone. I quenched it in my own blood. That is your bone, and your blood, as that of all my descendants. It has taken a liking to you. If ever you shall require it, the blade will answer your call."

"I forged it in Egypt, shortly before the Great War. I came into conflict with what you would now call a black hat. She was armed with the panoply of that land's once great and terrible Queen Nitokris. I required something to counter her weaponry. I have had occasion to use it since."

"That's not the same sword you used in Ferndale," January noted. That particular blade had been unmistakable. It had literally roared like a dragon in the astral, as if it really was that mythological creature, rather than just an enchanted blade.

With that in mind, January allowed her astral senses to fade, and brought her awareness back to solely the mundane world. It still gave her a headache when she spent too long interacting with the astral and physical at the same time.

"Y Ddraig Aur?" Blood Raven raised an eyebrow. "That is a blade not drawn lightly. It must not taste the blood of mortals, lest it grow too fond of such victuals. It was forged to end Abyssals, and that is the only purpose it must ever serve."

"You speak of it as if it was alive," Ryo declared.

"Why it is," Blood Raven answered calmly. "All magical workings are, after a fashion. We breathe our energy into them, forge their patterns within reality, and set their destinies in motion. Many of them live long, long, beyond us. Who is to say in the end, who is more alive?"

"So have you thought of a name?" January asked. She just knew that Ryo was about to start arguing over the definition of life. He could be single-minded that way. It was better to head him off and distract him. "If we don't put one out first, Gilda will end up naming you."

"She appears to have chosen wisely in your case great-granddaughter," Blood Raven noted. Just that easily, the Celtic sword vanished from her hand. Where it had gone to, January did not know. Blood Raven had a way of calling things to her, similar to how January could instantly change into her armor, even over a distance.

"Yeah, she is pretty good at it," January murmured. "Though I imagine the crow symbol on my chest and the lightning storm I created helped."

"Ôkami," Ryo breathed, "the Spirit Wolf."

"Like in the video game?" January wondered aloud.

"That was Amaterasu," Ryo declared. "The okuri-ôkami are the sending wolves, the messengers of the kami."

"Yes, they are protector spirits, who guide travelers home through the mountains, and protect them from harm," Blood Raven nodded. "They are similar to the black dog tales in Western folklore. They are a guide and guardian if treated with respect. A dangerous foe when crossed. You have chosen-."

I found your description of the ability to sense intent using aethereal senses fascinating – and handy indeed!

Haha, excellent job when Jan was distracted by Ryo’s arrival and fell in a heap. Comparing her to a cat who projects, “I meant to do that, of course,” was cute and very easy to picture.

Mr. Blackwood’s Superhero Shoppe! I love it! And how astute of the experienced Blood Raven to point out that Ryo should change to a more untraceable weapon.

Okami it is for Ryo then!

Have you left us with a cliffhanger then? I wonder what has interrupted Blood Raven?


Nits:
’Bright lights danced from the seas of rides, along {with?} the mechanical roar of their engines,’
’Then she was able to feel out father {farther?} along.’

This part

..."Some have even learned to use their senses to detect impending danger," Blood Raven continued. "A few have honed that sense to the point where they need not even concentrate. They are simply aware of threats before they materialize."....

is really important. Though they are aware of threats before they materialize, they might not even be aware that they are aware. It's a subconscious activity, in other words, but also something which is right on the edge of consciousness. Something might bother them, yet they don't really know why. And so on.

Whoa, Ryo returns. Even the capes don't know he's coming entirely, though they can sense him coming.

That's also a good point about suits. Right! How do all those suits get made in the first place? I'm not very knowledgeable about superheros, but somebody has to make their suits. I suppose the Marvel and D.C. Comic characters all had some explanations.

Old Norse!





I wonder why it just cuts off at the end. Branwen is speaking and it seems like she's been interrupted mid-sentence.

Acadian: I am leaning on my Shadowrun experience with the idea that you can see a person's mood in their aura. And for that matter, that the moods of many people will spill out and affect astral space around them. They call the latter a background count. Happy, positive events like concerts will create a positive background count. Dark and cruel places like prisons will create a negative one. This way that astral space is altered effects how magic works, as the count will add to or subtract from magic cast within the area, depending on whether it aligns with the count, or is counter to it.

Jan's surprise and fall into a heap was a little way of showing that she is still not perfect, in spite of being a superhero.

After all this time since I asked for advice on the name, Okami is now officially a thing.

As ever, thank you for finding those nits and helping me correct them.


Renee: I was basically putting a magical explanation on how Spider-Man's danger sense works. I am not sure if I am going to incorporate it into January or Ryo's toolkits or not. It would be a handy way to get them to danger spots in time to react to them. But I have not decided yet.

In comics they do occasionally show people making their own suits. In the Batgirl comics they did a change up to her outfit a while back. They explained why by saying there was a fire that burned up her suit, so she had to whip up a new one quickly. And they had a couple panels showing her sewing it.

OTOH, in shows like The Incredibles, there are people like Edna who create the suits that supers wear. I created Mr. Blackwood with her in mind, and decided that he would have superpowers of his own to make the suits with. And that would allow him to do really unique and scientifically impossible things with them. Like unstable molecules that grow and shrink with the wearer. I got his name from an old fashion critic named Mr. Blackwell, who is no longer around. That and Michael Caine's character from Miss Congeniality. We will meet him in the next Book.

We are about to learn why Blood Raven's words cut off at the end...







Ambassador Bridge Pic


Video of the Ambassador Bridge



Book 7.18 - Hammer Down
June 23


Blood Raven stopped in mid-sentence. She turned from the pair of young heroes, and stared intently out across the river. January followed her gaze, and called on Sága to turn on her telescopic vision. A pair of eye-pieces slid down over her eyes, and a moment later the Ambassador Bridge leaped up in sharp focus before her.

She saw a semi-truck slide sideways down two lanes of traffic. It must have struck something, for an instant later it tipped over onto its side, and sent an eruption of sparks skyward as metal scraped across concrete. The long trailer behind the cab did not like that, for it jumped skyward. Gravity pulled it back however, and it came crashing down to the roadway and bounced sideways.

It slammed into a Mazda, and sent the much smaller vehicle rocketing to the side of the bridge. The compact car crashed through the barrier on the edge of the bridge, and sent concrete plummeting to the river over a hundred feet below. The Mazda followed, and bounced between two steel girders that rose skyward at opposite angles. It hung there between the girders, and teetered on the edge of the abyss.

January's heart leaped in her throat, and lightning scattered across the sky overhead. Blood Raven was already airborne, knifing through the sky toward the danger. January's wings snapped out from her arms a moment later. She crouched down to get a good spring before leaping skyward, when Ryo leaped on her back, between the two wings.

"Take me with you!" he cried.

January did not say a word. Instead she shot into the firmament, and hoped that Ryo could hold on. No, not Ryo, he was Ôkami now, just as she was Stormcrow.

He clung to her shoulders, then slid his grip down to the straps that held the chest plate of her armor onto her torso. Otherwise he did not interfere with her flight at all. In fact, he seemed to hardly weigh a thing. It was if he had nearly faded from reality, and she only pulled along his ghost.

Which January imagined was probably true. He seemed to almost fade from existence when he used his powers. She had thought he might be phasing, as she knew some metas could do. Or that he controlled shadows, and transformed into them. Perhaps he did both, and neither. She wondered if he even knew exactly what he did just yet. After all, it had taken her some time to realize that her powers were shaped by the elements, and remade them in turn.

Air give me quickness in body and wit. Let the weights of the world fall from me.

January pushed her friend from her mind. Instead she concentrated solely on her flight. She coaxed more and more speed from her wings, and willed them to propel her down the length of the river to the towering bridge to the south. Blood Raven remained directly ahead of her, and January followed her right up to the blue-green girders of the massive structure.

"The driver has suffered a massive stroke," the older heroine said calmly. "Can you deal with the car?"

"We've got it," January assured the other woman. Inwardly, she had no idea whether or not that was true. But she would not concede defeat before the battle had even begun.

January focused on the car. It was a bright red hatchback. The rear end was caved in, and now jutted precariously over the side of the bridge. Even as she watched, the car slowly tipped, and began an inexorable plunge toward the water below.

Not one inch farther. January willed the vehicle to stop. Her body made it reality. She slammed into the back of car, and grabbed hold of both sides of its frame. Her wings separated from her arms, and beat furiously against the air. The car teetered, then hovered there above her. A child's face stared back at her through the back window, eyes wide in horror. She was just inches away through the glass. Close enough for January to count every strand of the dark hair plastered against her cheeks.

January barely felt Ôkami somersault over her back. She saw him fade right through the cracked glass and twisted steel of the car. He took hold of the child in one hand, and then she faded with him. They vanished through the front of the car above. But January heard screams coming from inside. So there were still clearly people left in danger.

Blood Raven was a red flash over the surface of the bridge. January heard the scream of steel tearing. A moment later a door from the truck went tumbling over the side of the bridge, only to splash into the rushing waters of the river far below. The older heroine came into view a moment later, cradling a bearded man in her arms.

"Can you hold this?" She stared at January intently. "I can maintain this one's life for the nonce. Yet without a hospital, he shall certainly perish."

"We've got it," January insisted. "Go!"

Blood Raven was a streak of red and black across the sky as she sped eastward, across the river into Canada. In the meantime January could see the faded shape of Ôkami delving back into the Mazda. He took hold of another person, and pulled them into his half-real, half other state of being. Then like with the little girl, he leaped through the car with them, to vanish onto the surface of the bridge over head.

The steel of the car groaned in her hands. She could feel the frame twisting above her. Glass popped from the side windows, as it contorted into shapes that Mazda's engineers had never anticipated. The car groaned, as if angry at how it had been misused, and it seemed to want to take that anger out upon January.

January's wings beat against the crushing weight of the vehicle. It was small, a compact in fact. If she had been on the ground, it would have been child's play to pick up. But her feet had nothing to brace themselves against. She had no way of exerting her strength. She had only her wings, and her power to defy gravity. Right now, it seemed that gravity was slowly beginning to win...

"Hurry up Ôkami," she breathed. "I can't hold this much longer!"

"Last one," she heard her friend say from within the car. She saw his shadow move across the front seat. Then she heard a yelp as he took hold of the final occupant. A moment later he was a dark stain that rose through the windshield, only to disappear from view a moment later.

"All clear," his voice called out.

A wave of relief washed over her. That was her undoing. She let her efforts relax for just a moment. That was all the tortured vehicle required to finally tear completely free of the bridge. That crushing weight became an unstoppable force, sending January straight down to the river below. Her wings beat against it to no avail. It was just too big, too heavy, for her to hold aloft.

She tried to dart out of its way. But the force of the wind at her back pinned her against the car. Her hands dug down through the steel of the car, but it just tumbled and rolled above her, almost shapeless now as the frame snapped. Tortured steel groaned in her ears, competing with the growing noise of the waves.

Then she hit the surface of the river. It was like slamming into concrete. It knocked the wind right out of her, just like her first day in krav maga class. January saw stars for a moment. She could not move. She could not breathe. She felt water against her face. A moment later she heard her mask snap shut over her features, and sweet, sweet oxygen return to her lungs.

She was able to move again. But the car was still on top of her, pushing her down. Her wings beat against the water, sending it roiling in great, chaotic riptides. It kicked up mud from the river bottom, and turned the green water to dark brown. That almost completely blotted out the light that filtered in above. She struggled to get free of the infernal car. Just when she thought she was about to make it, she felt her back hit something soft, but unyielding.

It was the river bottom. All of her life January had heard that not only could the Detroit River's currents be treacherous, but that the mud that lined its bed was an impenetrable mire. Once something went into it, it never came out again. All of the weight of the Mazda came bearing down upon her once more. It shoved her down into the soggy floor of the Detroit River.

Her heart raced, and for a moment, she did panic. She railed against the hatchback with hands, feet, and wings. The car dimpled and shattered beneath her. But all her efforts did was plunge her deeper into the cold embrace of the mud.

"January hold on," she heard Gadget's voice in her ear now. "Ôkami is on the way."

That snapped her back to reality. She forced her breathing to slow, in and out, just as years of yoga and meditation had taught her. She felt her energy. She let it flow gently through her body, and cleanse her of the toxicity of fear. The words of her elemental mantra came unbidden to her mind, and she let them roll around her thoughts.

Earth give me strength, keep me grounded, protect me from harm.

Air give me quickness in body and wit. Let the weights of the world fall from me.

Water make me flexible in thought and form. Let me flow, let me crash.

Fire give me passion and energy. Let me burn bright in the night sky.

Spirit weave all together in balance. Bring me peace.

"I'm okay," January insisted. "I've got this. Tell our spirit wolf friend I'll be right back up there."

She was water, and just as it could crash, it could flow. So too could she. She concentrated upon that idea, and willed it into reality. Instead of straining against the overbearing weight of the car on top of her, or against the impenetrable mire of mud beneath, she simply flowed through them.

In a moment she slipped free of the mud, and undulated through the smashed rear window. The back seat was instantly in her way, torn loose from the floor and hurled diagonally across the interior of the car. Again, she flowed around it, imagining herself as a serpent rather than a woman.

The safety glass of the front windshield was a mass of spiderwebs, but otherwise it was still intact. Whoever had made that, had clearly done their jobs well. January was unperturbed. With one wing, she sliced through the glass as if it was tissue paper. A second swipe with her other wing shattered the tortured glass into a dozen small shards that flowed away with the current.

She sprang outward through the glass, free of the vehicle at last. The water was so muddy, that she could not see a thing. Then she remembered something she had seen in a nature documentary. When divers became disorientated, they could have trouble telling up from down. But they could always follow their bubbles back to the surface.

With that in mind she took a deep gulp of air. Then she turned off her air supply by swiping a finger across Sága's display on her forearm. Cool water instantly slapped against her face. She released a little air from her mouth, and was pleased to see the bubbles stream their way along. She beat down hard against the water with her wings. That gave her a great burst of speed, and propelled her up through the waves. The light returned in moments, and she kicked hard for the surface above. Her head broke through the waves moments later, and then she was clear of the water and rising skyward once more.

She heard a cheer rise from the bridge overhead. She turned in that direction, and saw that its edge was now crowded with onlookers. That included Ôkami, who now perched on one of the giant steel cables that curved above the girders of the bridge, and rose to one of the massive towers beyond.

January pushed herself skyward. Just as when rising from a pool, the water of the river clung to her, weighing her down like lead. But she pushed through it, and willed herself higher. She took a great gulp of fresh air, and breathed easily once more. That had not gone anywhere near how she would have liked. But at least she was out, and the people trapped in the car were safe.

She saw them standing on the edge of the bridge. She recognized the young girl by her features of course. The other two were easy enough to guess at, as they were the only ones with hair and clothing mussed, and skin purpled with bruises and abrasions. January forced away a frown at the sight of the injuries. She knew exactly how that felt, and worse.

She winged her way over to the bridge. Massive suspension cables gently curved up to the nearest of the span's two towers. They held up the body of the road beneath them with thick ropes of steel. Those steel cables formed a vertical row of barriers to her flight. If she caught one wing upon them it would send her falling to the street below, or worse, back into the river. That would look wonderful on Worldwide Network News.

January blocked everything else out, and concentrated solely upon her flight. She willed herself to thread the needle between two of those vertical cables. Then she pulled in her wings, and dropped lightly to the concrete roadway below. Once she was safely down, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had not screwed that up in front of everyone. Otherwise she knew that she would be seeing that on social media for years.

She folded her wings up against her back, but did not transform them back into a cape. She was getting used to having them around more often, and using them for more than just flight. It was good practice. Besides, it certainly was a good reminder that she was the Stormcrow after all.

She glanced up to Ôkami, and motioned for him to come down. He stared back at her, but otherwise did not leave his perch. January resisted the urge to shake her head. She certainly understood his desire to avoid crowds. But it was part of what they were. They could use moments like these to make a positive impression with people. To show them what they stood for. If only they grasped at the opportunity.

January moved to the family from the ill-fated compact car. She took a moment to study the injuries of each. The last thing she wanted was for one to suddenly fall dead on the pavement because they had slashed open an artery on a jagged piece of metal in the crash. She had to make sure that did not happen. But she saw no signs of anything worse than bumps and scrapes, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry about your car," January said to the family. "I don't think you'll be getting it back, at least not without help from Jacques Cousteau."

"It's insured," one of the two adult women insisted. "Thank you so much for being there when you were. If not for you and your friend, we would be goners for sure."

"Now I know how that guy in the old asylum felt when the ghost attacked him," the other woman murmured. "I wish I had worn my brown pants today too."

"I can relate," January nodded. "Color-safe bleach helps too..."

"But you're a hero!" their little girl cried. "You can't be scared!"

"Maybe." January knelt down to look the child in the eye. "But I'm still no different from anyone else. No different from you. We all feel scared sometimes. Well, maybe not Blood Raven. The monsters are all afraid that she's under their beds. But it's ok to be afraid, or angry, or sad, or anything else. It's what you do with those feelings that matter. Believe me, you can do anything."

"So who is your friend Stormcrow?" A new person stepped up with their phone's light glowing brightly. More people took up the question, and January was about to look back up again, when the crowd recoiled slightly. January felt a rush of air beside her, and heard a light scuff of feet landing on concrete.

"I am Ôkami," he said simply.

"Like the Japanese spirit wolf," January added when everyone merely stared back blankly. "He's my friend. We'll be working together from now on."

"We are blocking traffic," Ôkami noted. January followed his glance back and saw that while the overturned truck had blocked all the traffic headed to the American side, all of the cars going in the opposite direction had stopped as well. Even now their drivers were getting out and pulling out phones to record everything.

"EMS is on the way," Cray's voice said in her ear. "Blood Raven has the truck driver at a hospital. He suffered a massive brain hemorrhage. Looks like she will be there for a while, so don't wait for her."

"Ok, let's see if we can clear some of this." January walked back to the semi. It looked like it had been gargled by a space slug and spat out. The front windshield was cracked in a dozen places, the metal frame was scraped up and dented, and one door was completely missing. The long trailer that stretched out behind was in little better condition.

"If I can tip it back on its wheels, maybe we can get it to the side," she murmured. "You think you can do that - thing you do - to make it lighter?"

"I do not believe I can fade anything that large," Ôkami said.

"Every little bit helps," January shrugged. With that she stepped around to the roof of the tractor half of the vehicle. She dug her fingers into what she hoped were the strongest, load-bearing parts of the structure. In the meanwhile Ôkami took hold as well, and the cab seemed to dim slightly, as if a cloud has passed over the sun. January heaved with all of her might, being careful to lift with her legs rather than her back.

The truck did not budge. Gravity seemed to glue it to the concrete below.

January took a deep breath. She felt her energy flow through her, and cleanse her body like a cool mountain stream. She visualized the truck rising from the ground. She saw it tip back over onto its wheels. She poured her energy into that image, and willed it to become reality.

Earth give me strength, keep me grounded, protect me from harm.

With that the battered cab of the truck lifted up under January's hands. She felt her fingers dig deeply into the metal. But she did not slow down. She pulled, and pulled, and felt her muscles groan with the effort. She would not be deterred. She knew the reality she wanted to create, and would not stop at nothing until it took form.

Then the truck fell free from her fingers, and dropped onto its giant tires. It rocked back and forth as it settled back to its proper place on the earth. January looked back and saw that the trailer had tilted back up with it. That is when she realized that if perhaps she had uncoupled it first, she could have probably moved each separately, and with much less effort.

Ôkami got into the cab to steer, while January pushed it as far over to one side as she could. There were only two lanes of traffic on this side of the bridge, but that opened one up. By the time they were finished, an ambulance had come up from the American side. Its team of paramedics set to looking at the occupants of the ill-fated Mazda.

"I think we should leave now," Ôkami noted. January followed his gaze to the crowd of onlookers that had gathered. Traffic on the bridge was still halted in each direction. But now it was solely because of them.

January gave a wave. Then she grabbed hold of Ôkami, and rose up into the sky. They still had to keep watch out for the Summoner after all.

Batgirl's suit burned up!? Yikes. So that's closer to basic human apparel, then.

Those telescopic eyes sound convenient. I was doing some bird-watching this week (bluebirds have returned to central Maryland after decades of absence!) and binoculars are really frickin' hard to hold without micro-shaking. That would be cool to have something which is fixed right on someone's head like that.



Sure that's fine. Like a sort of safety net (story-wise), just in case.

Whoa! Yikes! Oh gosh, Ryo jumped on her back! He'd better not slip off... Okay yeah, he's able to transmute his physical self away. So it's good that Ryo is there to save those trapped in the car.



Even in moments of peril, Branwen speaks like someone from the Victorian age!

No, no, let go of the cAr!!! .. Uh oh, she's trapped. But can't she just call upon the element of water? sorry. Talking to my screen again. Ha! I was right.

I like her sermon at the end. That's very superhero-ish, to give a sermon like that to the crowd. This episode is interesting because it seems random, by the way. It doesn't seem like any of the villains in this story so far were involved, eh? Just a random accident, which was witnessed by Raven. Maybe I'm wrong, of course. We shall see.

Nice how Okami and Stormcrow’s powers worked together to enable a flight for two to the bridge.

The line that Renee quoted is indeed a perfect example of the ‘Blood Raven’ speak that you write so well and consistently for the older heroine.

Wow, that was quite the nail-biter for a time as Jan struggled into the mudmire at the bottom of the river with a Mazda on top of her. As Renee mentioned, becoming one with the water was the perfect solution for Stormcrow.

And in typical Stormcrow fashion, she does not ‘Rescue and Run’, but lingers to help deal with the aftermath.

Renee: Branwen is someone from the Victorian age. Well, older. So it is not difficult for her to sound that way. Quite the opposite in fact.

She did call on the element of water in the end. I wanted to show that while January is super, she is not omnipotent with that scene. In the end she was done in by a Mazda. I also wanted something nice and low level to give Ryo a first outing as a super. Plus to show that a super's life is not all fist fights with supervillains. They do pure rescues as well.

So this was not part of a supervillains master plot. Just a slice of superhero life. At some point I do hope to work in January saving a cat from a tree as well. It's a classic after all.


Acadian: Okami has some really neat powers, sort of a mix of phasing and shadow transformation/manipulation. He fades from reality. That makes him a great sneaky sort of person, and a great rescuer, since he can walk through walls, or cars.

The Detroit River is incredibly dangerous. It is not very long, or wide, but its current is fast and treacherous. The water is murky, and the mud at the bottom is infamous for swallowing things whole. So I have been looking for an opportunity to include the river somewhere in January's tale.

January usually tries to stick around, rather than rescue and run, like her seven-times great-grandmother. She is very conscious that how she behaves shapes people's perceptions of her, and also how they behave themselves.






The Warren Civic Center Library can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map

Warren City Hall/Library

January in her book signing outfit



Book 7.19 - Hammer Down
June 24

The Warren Civic Center sat directly across Van Dyke Avenue from the General Motors Technical Center. A great blue high rise office building within the latter was clearly visible from the civic center, in spite of the bank and day care center that sat between the center and the main road beyond.

The civic center itself was a complex of buildings, dominated by the four-story, glass faced structure of the combination city hall and library. Some might call it a Modernist masterpiece, others an eyesore. The squatting beside it was a simple sandstone parking structure, connected to it by a glass annex. Finally, the brown brick police station squatted like a sleeping turtle farther north, and behind it sat the tan blocks of the district courthouse.

The library took up the ground floor of the main building. January had never been within the floors above that made up the city hall. But the interior of the library was cozy. The ends of the book stacks were cut into wavy lines, rather than just plain rectangular blocks. The floor was carpeted varying bands of orange, brown, and dark purple, and the walls were decorated with the works of local artists.

Right now January stood within a conference room that was literally filled with people. There were so many that they were standing in the back and around the sides. Most of those people were in their teens and early twenties. But a few older faces stared back at her. Some of them were familiar, starting with her mother, who practically beamed with pride. Branwen hovered next to her, looking casual in a green summer dress and strappy shoes.

January also noted Avery in the back, flanked by Blackjack and Ryo. The latter was of course half-hidden in the background, as was his wont. All of them were dressed simply, in jeans and tees.

January had stepped up her own clothing game. She wore a pink dress decorated with flowers. She draped a velvet blazer of deep blue over that to give her a slightly more professional look. Both had been practically a steal at the local resale shop just down the street from the Witch House. A pair of strappy flats rounded out her look, and made up with comfort, what they might have lacked in style.

She paused to step back to the podium and take a sip of water. She had been talking for at least an hour - relating her experiences with self-publishing, making use of crowd-sourcing, and just writing in general. When her mother had convinced her to give this talk, she had been afraid that she would have nothing to say. It turned out that being a writer, she had a lot of say! But finally she had run out of steam. So she wrapped up her prepared remarks, and asked for questions.

"Do you know Stormcrow?" was the first one from the audience, asked by a girl who could not have been more than a few years younger than herself.

"I wish," January said. "But I am afraid that we have never met."

"Who are your heroes?" asked another one.

"If you want the long list, we will be here for years," January said. "But for the short one... Mary Shelly, Princess Diana, Katherine Johnson, Ada Lovelace, Katherine Hepburn, Pearl Buck, Harriet Tubman. The list goes on and on. Some of them are not perfect. A lot of them are not. But that is one of the things that they taught me. You can be a mess and still make the world a better place."

"But my real hero is my mom," January nodded to her mother, Barbara. "Like me, she's made her mistakes. But she always keeps fighting. She taught me to fight in fact. She taught me that I can keep on going, in spite of everything the world throws at me. She will always be my guiding star."

January saw Barbara tearing up. Which made her own eyes water. She was thankful when the next question was something more mundane, about the tools she used to write. The rest of the Q & A was a similar gamut. From very personal things like whether it was true that she was trans, to technical things like how to start a crowd-funding site.

Afterward came a book-signing. She had actual, physical books, thanks to a deal that Branwen had helped set up. Because of that she had a whole stack of This Spell for Hire hardcopies to sell and sign. Though signing mostly meant taking a selfie with the buyer rather than writing in their newly purchased novels.

She even had some free copies of Artemis Argent and the Secret of Mystery Hill to give out. They were not full versions of course. Rus was still toiling away at the grunt work of drawing and coloring the first issue. But she did have copies of a four page teaser from it, all hand-bound by herself. These she gave away for free to everyone who bought a book. She kept her fingers crossed that the advertising would translate into sales down the road. Otherwise she had wasted her printer's ink cartridges for nothing.

Her phone dinged in the middle of the book signings. She glanced over to see that it was a text from Rus. She read it, and could not contain a whoop of joy. That caused all around to stare at her with varying mixtures of surprise and amusement.

"That was Rus," she explained. "He officially quit working for his dad, because we just hit our goal for Artemis Argent on Jumpstarter!"

"See, I told you that the donations would come rolling in after Gilda Gadfly talked about you last Thursday!" Barbara grinned. "That's the second time she came through for you."

"I guess it was a good thing that I went back and did that podcast the second time after all," January mused. It had certainly been stressful, to the say the least. But as her alter-ego of Stormcrow was wont to say, giving people a second chance was important. It had certainly been good for her this time.

By the time it was all over, she was exhausted. She had spent the entire afternoon making mini-comics to hand out, and finally the evening schmoozing with fans and hopeful writers. She had actual fans! That part was difficult enough to wrap her brain around, though certainly welcome. But all of this socializing was wearing. She could not imagine how real celebrities could do it all the time.

Most of her days were so easy: a few hours doing yoga and gymnastics, followed by a few more hours of sparring, and then the rest of the day writing, goofing off on the internet, and reading books. Being outgoing with people, being perky and fun and thoughtful, and trying not to say stupid things, was so much work. Her mother made it look so easy. But January would rather spend the evening pushing semi trucks around. It was much less exhausting.

When it was all over she could not wait to just go home and crash in bed. She had a big day tomorrow. The drug shipment was coming into Cleveland, and there was no doubt that she would have a real fight on her hands when it got there.

A wonderful interlude before Lighthammer’s drug war begins, as Jan’s writing career really begins to break into the big time!

I love your opening as we start not really knowing what this episode will be about, then you work us down into the library as we begin to realize Jan is doing a real book signing! And I got a kick from your opening description about the police station squatting like a sleeping turtle. What a mishmash of architectures Detroit sounds like.

I also liked that you took the time to describe the wardrobe opted for this event by both Jan and Branwen.
Edit: Complete with picture now! Nice.

Jan is still not comfortable being the center of attention or ‘performing’ in front of strangers but she really is getting pretty good at it. It also says a lot that all the folks in her life who are important were there supporting her.

Ope! I forgot to add a link to a pic of January in her book signing outfit. It is a picture of Georgie Stone, my model for January's appearance.

Nice to see all the main characters, and some of the side characters, all in one place. Branwen in a dress in particular has me ... Red & green, the particular combination which seems so odd, yet it often works.



Yikes! She is forced to tell a lie at that moment. Don't blame her, but still.... that's one pretty close call.

Princess Diana is a great hero on her list. I just read about her here online a few months ago. In particular I love the fact that before she stepped up to her duties as princess, she actually held some rather common job(s), displeasing some of the royalty around her. In general, somewhat of a rebel.

Pearl Buck too.

This is really touching, the fact that she's giving out early, hand-bound copies of her work. *Renee sheds a couple tears*

Acadian: We have just episodes left in the chapter. But before we got to the superhero crescendo I wanted to get a slice of January's personal life in there as well. This whole series is very much a balancing act between the two.

Detroit is a weird looking place because the city is so old. It was started in 1701 by Cadillac. So it has a mish-mash of architecture going back for centuries all sitting side by side. Then you get the new stuff like the Warren Civic Center. The old city buildings were all torn down about a decade ago, and the current ones put up. But when they did it, they used a variety of art styles. The main City Hall/Library is this glass Modernist affair. While the police station and courthouse are almost Brutalist structures in their simplicity. If they had been made of cement, they would look like something from the Soviet Union.

This was also a nice opportunity to show how January is gradually getting better at speaking to groups, thanks to both experiences like this in her normal identity, and as Stormcrow.


Renee: Branwen has red hair and green eyes in her civilian identity. So I went with the green dress to really go with that.

The podcast You're Wrong About has a 5 part series on Princess Diana. She was very much an outsider in the Royal family, and never fit into their strange and frankly abusive world. She was just too nice, and just too joyful and free-spirited. As you alluded to, she was a school teacher. She was born to an aristocratic family, but she lived a pretty normal life. For example, she got in big trouble with them because she left their Scottish castle to be with a friend of hers who was dying of Aids. And one of the reasons she was selected to marry Charles was that she was a virgin. They literally interviewed every boyfriend she had ever had and questioned them to find out if she had ever had sex.

This was all a nice little moment to show that January's personal/professional life is finally starting to go well. Well enough for her to be truly self-sufficient when it comes to her day to day living.












Cleveland Docks

First Energy Stadium

MSC Gayane

Nitrokis armor

Khopesh


Book 7.20 - Hammer Down
June 25

January sat in the side splits, legs spread out horizontally in either direction. She did not sit on the concrete floor however. Instead she was suspended in the air by a pair of chairs, one under each of her feet. Her eyes were closed, and she slowly breathed in and out. She moved her mana through her body with each breath. The cool energy washed her clean, and left her feeling calm and ready for anything.

"That looks painful," she heard Special Agent Jack Ortiz mutter. "How does someone even do that?"

"Shhh," Anaya Baqri from the Ohio Attorney General's office whispered. "She's trying to concentrate."

"It's ok," January breathed, "there are always distractions. One of the reasons I do this is so I can learn to concentrate in spite of them."

"How's that working out so far?" Andrea Jackson from the DEA asked.

"Pretty good."

Even though January's eyes were closed, she had reached out through the astral. She could sense all of her surroundings through its sometimes kaleidoscopic rush of sensations. She could not just see things in her head, she could smell them, touch them, even taste them sometimes. She never knew how she was going to perceive any one thing. But the more she practiced, the easier it became to accept the chaos.

They were perched high up within the framework of First Energy Stadium, where the Cleveland Browns played - badly - every Sunday in the fall. Thankfully it was not football season yet, so the giant, open-air amphitheatre was empty. They were perched beneath the bleachers of the upper stands, two-thirds of the way up the stadium. The wide concourse that circled the stadium's interior was beneath the concrete under their feet. A short half wall hid them from outside view, with the name of the stadium written across its outer face. But that opened up just a few feet away to provide a perfect view of the docks beyond.

It was not a place meant for people to sit. Rather it was just an empty space normally only accessible to maintenance crews. It was amazing the number of places that federal badges opened up, not to mention state prosecutors. Now January and a handful of agents waited in their perch, keeping a close eye on the port below.

January stretched her feelings beyond her immediate surroundings. She sensed the dead and cold concrete street that circled the stadium. Beyond it was the warm and inviting scent of a thin ring of trees. Farther out stretched a still and sterile parking lot that was nearly empty of vehicles. January could sense a large, rectangular warehouse, or some other sort of port structure, within the lot. It was empty however, with no warm glows of light inside except for a few birds that flitted among its metal rafters. Past the lot were the blue-green waves of Lake Erie, contained within the breakwater that divided the port from the wider expanse of deep blue water beyond.

To her left January could sense the docks. They were indentations cut within the solid concrete, creating long piers between each that were wide enough to hold two freighters apiece. The nearest was empty, with a giant white crane that loomed up at its near edge. But several piers down, she did perceive a long, dark lake freighter tied up to the shore.

To her right the barren parking lot that faced the lake ended with another Great Lakes Freighter. This one was permanently docked, and served as a floating museum. January could feel a sea of auras within, warm with life and motion. Farther east along the shore stood the Great Lakes Science Center and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She could never have described either, except that both buildings were modernist masterpieces that defied both gravity and straight lines. Each was filled with an even greater multitude of people than the museum ship.

January hoped that the coming battle would not stray that far. That one would take place seemed inevitable. Even now the container ship Lighthammer had identified was making its way through the breakwater at the mouth of the Cuyahoga River, and beginning its slow turn toward the nearby dock. January could sense it too, a massive rusting hulk of tired and worn out machinery, piloted by an equally worn crew.

Thankfully the docks had been evacuated. That made it easy for January to sense along its length. She felt the dozen members of the Ohio Special Response Team lurking within the nearest warehouse, along with a dozen more heavily armed federal agents. A few squirrels hopped along the outside of the walls, and a possum nestled within a pile of old junk.

She could easily pick out Lighthammer from the mass of troops in the warehouse. Unlike them, his aura was a strong and bright, a halogen spotlight among 40 watt incandescent bulbs. She could sense what she imagined was a mix of nervousness and eager anticipation within him. It was easy to recognize, because she felt the same within herself.

"You take this all very calmly," Baqri noted.

"That is why I mediate, and do Yoga, and exercise my energy," January replied. Part of her was glad that she at least appeared unflappable on the outside. On the inside, she felt that familiar tightness in her chest, and dryness in her mouth that preceded every real fight.

"So does that all that woo-woo mumbo-jumbo really work?" Ortiz murmured. January could sense his excitement as he leaned out into the open to scan the docks below.

"Focusing your will, setting a clear goal, taking responsibility for your emotions, these are all valuable tools to hone yourself into something greater," January said. "But they are only part of the equation. I have spent years exercising, practicing, sweating, and working to come to where I am today. And I am still working and learning. It never stops. It is the same for any professional athlete or concert pianist."

"Yeah, but I could spend years learning to play the violin, and I would still sound like I was torturing a cat." Agent Ortiz murmured.

"Try spending a thousand hours doing something you are naturally inclined toward instead," January countered. "I spent over half my life trying to be a boy, and I failed spectacularly. It was never who or what I was, and never could be. Find your own truth and live it."

January rolled forward, and put her hands down onto the concrete below her. She shifted her weight, and lifted her legs up into the air above her into a handstand. She let her wings spread out to either side, catching the chairs that had suspended her. She pushed each out of the way with her wingtips. She could feel the metal and plastic pieces of furniture just as clearly as if she had touched them with her fingers. That was something her old wings never could have done.

She lifted herself up onto her finger tips. Then she pulled one hand away, until she balanced on just a single finger. From that position she stretched out her legs forward and back, then side to side. Then she changed hands, and did the entire thing all over again.

"Now that is just showboating," Agent Jackson sighed. "You know she's recording you right?"

"I know," January could not restrain a smile. "This is one of my centering skills. It helps me concentrate, by keeping me busy enough that I don't spend my time over-thinking. It helps me to remain silent in the presence of the divine."

"It still sounds like mumbo jumbo to me," Special Agent Ortiz muttered.

January pushed herself up into the air and performed a somersault. She came down on her feet, facing the lake. She opened her eyes for the first time, and saw that Assistant Attorney General Baqri was indeed filming her with her phone.

In that moment she did not look like a prosecutor, or any sort of attorney at all. Instead she just looked like a twenty-something woman with her phone. She was a bundle of radiant energy, so full and alive. January had a nearly overwhelming desire to lean closer and kiss her. But she pushed that down, as she always did when she had those feelings. School had taught her better than to try that sort of thing.

"The ship has docked," Colonel Farmborow's voice crackled over the radio. "We are moving in."

"All clear so far," Ortiz replied.

January could sense the army of law enforcement agents as they rushed from the warehouse to the boarding ramp of the now docked vessel. As before, Lighthammer was easily distinguishable among them, rocketing up into the air above the ship.

"Lighthammer, look east," January said over her own comm. "I sense something near that museum ship."

"Trouble?" came his reply over the radio.

January did not respond. Instead she raced out of the alcove that they stood within, and leaped out into the sky. She dropped her astral senses so that she could better concentrate on her physical actions. Her wings beat down with a great sweep, and sent her higher into the air. She banked sharply to the east, then abruptly nosedived as a rifle barked in the open air. She could hear the whip-crack of the bullet pass by her ear. Then she was faced the museum ship, and poured on the speed.

"Trouble," January reiterated. "I've got Sludge and Obsidian coming across the lot. I don't see Crosshair, but he sees me."

"I've got eyes on him," Lighthammer said, "on top of the rear super structure of that museum freighter.

January silently cursed herself for not sensing them sooner. She must have failed to note the auras of the villains among the throngs of tourists on the boat, or she just wasn't good enough to pick them out from a distance. Either way, she still had a lot of work to do on her astral sensing.

"Ok, just like we planned," Special Agent Ortiz's voice came over the comm. "Ground team continue and secure the ship. Air team, engage the enemy metas."

January poured on the speed, and the distance between her and the charging metas melted away second by second. Lighthammer flashed by her, blasting his signature hard light bolts from his hands. They flashed across the sky and landed home on the museum ship. But if they struck home against the enemy sniper, she could not tell.

January nosed down closer to the ground, and transformed her altitude into even more speed. She aimed for the spot between Sludge and Obsidian, and stretched out her wings to either side, making to clothesline them. Of course she knew the futility of that. So at the last minute she pulled her wings in and hit the ground with a roll. She somersaulted past them, but dropped a present as she went by.

Brilliant lights strobed behind January, bright enough to cause afterimages to bloom behind her tightly shut eyelids. She heard her two opponents shout with anger and dismay, and allowed a faint smile to cross her features. Apparently they had not done their homework on her. Five minutes on MeTube would have brought that one up.

January rolled to a stop, and raised her hands to the firmament. The sky was now packed with dark thunderclouds. January pulled them down, and ripped a stream of lightning forth. It hammered upon the two supervillains, then January herself as she leaped into the conflagration.

She waded into the electrical storm and spun like a ballerina. Her wings snapped out edge on, cutting the air like a blade. One wing sliced neatly through Sludge, bisecting him beneath the shoulders. Another gout of electricity leaped from her wings into the hapless villain, bringing smoke from his goopy body.

Her other wing crashed into Obsidian. But it felt like hitting a brick wall. Her razor-sharp wing edge stopped cold. He actually grinned for a moment. Until the lightning that now wreathed January also exploded into his body. That sent him flying backward through a parked truck.

"Crow, look to the Rock Hall of Fame," Gadget, heretofore silent, finally added his voice to the action. "You've got trouble incoming."

January turned her gaze in that direction. She saw Lighthammer buzzing through the sky around the museum freighter. He had created his small hard light shields on his arms now, and was trading shots with the technomorph sniper. Farther east across a small inlet stood the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. From its roof rose a woman with a pair of wings that were comprised of golden light. She was clad in what looked like some sort of ancient Egyptian armor. A bronze helmet covered her head and most of her face. A breastplate of gold sheathed her chest, with a long tunic of red-brown leather that fell past her waist in a wide skirt. Her waist and neck were likewise girded with a golden belt and scaled gorget. Shining yellow plates girded her shoulders and forearms, and the shins above of her sandaled feet.

She held a bow in her hands, and before January could react, she let fly. An arrow of brilliant yellow light darted forth, sailing right at January. Without thinking, she became water, and flowed out of the way of the shot.

But an instant later it slammed home, burning its way through the cubic boron nitride of her chest plate as if was not even there. Her ribs erupted with pain, and she felt herself fly back across the parking lot from the force of the blow. She skidded across concrete for several feet, until she was able to kick off and come back to her feet in a somersault.

She glanced down, and saw that a neat hole had been burned through both her breastplate and the hagfish fibers underneath. Her skin was a bloody, bruised mess, making it hard for her to tell just how bad the injury was. She was able to stand however, and that meant she could still fight as well.

The arrow that had struck her was gone. It might have been consumed by the energy that it had emitted. Or perhaps it had never existed in the first place, and had simply been a bolt of magical energy that took the form of an arrow?

"Lighthammer, can you help with lady pharaoh?" Gadget said over the comm.

"Hooah!" came the flying vigilante's response. Twin bolts of white light tore across the sky. The new woman in Pharaonic gear lowered her bow, and the weapon vanished. In its place appeared a rectangular shield with a rounded top. It looked for all the world like a door, albeit painted yellow and emblazoned with a winged scarab beetle. She brought this to bear, and Lighthammer's attacks scattered to nothingness upon its surface.

Worse, the other two villains were coming back to their feet. Obsidian was flailing about in the truck he had landed in. It was now a twisted mass of steel and wiring. He looked most displeased as he fought to escape the wreckage. Sludge too, was now stirring. The two piles of goo he had fallen into were now slowly rolling together into a single mass.

"Who the hell is that?" Obsidian stared at the newcomer with as much surprise as January.

"I'm your backup," the lady pharaoh replied from across the inlet. "Your masters thought you incapable of discharging your duties. They were correct."

January tasted blood on her lips. But she did not have time to see if she had suffered a new injury, or if the previous one had been worse than she originally thought. She raised a hand to the sky, and focused on the newcomer. But before she could bring down a bolt of lightning, her new enemy flew across the small harbor and parking lot to stand directly before her.

Up close, January could see that her golden armor was intricately carved with eagles and scarab beetles. Cartouches that she had no hope of making sense of stretched across her belt. A bronze helmet protected her enemy's face, and covered part of her features. All that January could see was olive skin and a strong nose, and thin lips set in a blood-red line.

A bronze sword with a sickle-shaped blade had formed in the lady pharaoh's free hand, opposite her shield. She brought the khopesh down in an overhand sweep, and January pulled one wing up to block, just as she had done against Gola. Bright sparks erupted where the two met. The sickle-sword did not pierce her wings. But the force of the blow pushed January down into a crouch.

Since she was down there anyway, January put her weight on one ankle. She spun her body around that point, and swept out with her other leg. But the lady pharaoh leaped high to escape being toppled from her feet. While she was still in mid jump, January rolled backward and sprang to her own feet.

January pushed back forward, and brought a wing around in a horizontal slash. But the pharaoh blocked with her shield. She replied with her khopesh, and hammered January back. Before January could reply with another wing strike, the new villain punched out with her shield, knocking January off her feet and on to her back.

She brought that sword sweeping down at January in an overhand blow. But this time January was quicker. She kicked out, and forced the lady pharaoh to leap skyward once more to avoid having her shins crushed. With a sweep of her wings, January propelled herself back across the pavement and out of range. She was once again on her feet in an instant. But her opponent darted forward in mid air, and brought that sword around once more. January lifted up one wing to block, and prepared to riposte with the other.

Steel rang on bronze, as a rune-carved Celtic sword thrust itself in the path of the sickle-sword. January found Blood Raven standing between her and the lady pharaoh, Samhain in one hand. Her scarlet hair flowed out behind her head, even though there was no wind. Her eyes burned like fire. She towered there like a goddess, larger than anything else alive in the world.

She pulled her sword up, and swept the newcomer's own blade aside in the process. That left the Egyptian open for just a moment. That was all Blood Raven needed to slam home a massive push kick. The newcomer brought up her shield to block it. But it did not matter. She still went tumbling back a dozen feet.

"Nitokris!" Blood Raven cried. "Such a delight it is to renew our acquaintance."

’She could sense all of her surroundings through its sometimes kaleidoscopic rush of sensations.’
- - Nice description. And the beginning of a wonderful way to set the scene and quite ‘paint’ a picture of where Stormcrow was and what was going on around her.

’She heard her two opponents shout with anger and dismay, and allowed a faint smile to cross her features.’
- - January of the Faint Smile? Stormcrow makes an impressive and powerful entrance, getting this terrifying fight off to a good start.

Things were beginning to look pretty good until Nitokris made an even more impressive entrance. This fascinating new warrior simply reeks of ancient magicks that appear to outclass what the Stormcrow has been able to master during her short lifespan. Given the totality of what Lighthammer, Stormcrow and the uncaped law enforcers are now up against, things are looking grim.

The final dramatic entrance of this episode was by none other than Blood Raven – and what an entrance it was! I suspect Blood Raven will improve the good guys’ odds notably.

That's pretty neat she can sense all of that as she meditates. Trees, boats, docks, water, people. My mom claims she had some astral projection experiences when she was college-aged. Fortunately for me, this ability seems to have ended when she had children, otherwise I'd have been in a LOT more trouble growing up here and there. Do you know anyone who has abilities like this, Rosa?

Ah, I see. So Lighthammer already knows which ship is carrying the illicit cargo. Wow, she can even see the different people as different luminosities as she searches. Sort of like Detect Life in Skyrim I guess. Red = enemy, blue = friend iirc.

Again with the camera! Even the AG can't help but start playing with a gadget as she's trying to focus. Well, I guess it leads to documentation. For legal purposes, somehow.



Right, that would be bad timing. Maybe after a couple glasses of Chablis after this is all over she can think about trying something like that.

Whoa she sliced into Sludge! But I thought.... okay. I See. That's clever bringing some lightning into that fool. See, he's not impervious.

Cripes, her armor's been wrecked! Argh!

lol... Lady Pharoah seems to think they'll screw this up! I'm picturing her armor as all Egyptian and dynastic-looking! Every enemy in these sort of stories always has such style. She could easily be a villain on the original Batman series along with Riddler and Joker and Penguin.

Wow, Raven does show up, and just in time. Poor Jan is getting her ass kicked in this one, pretty badly. I like how Raven already knows Lady Pharaoh, and even refers to her in a chummy kind of way. "Such a delight..." she says. Phew.

Huh, so THAT'S what that sickle sword is called. A khopesh. I'd seen it before but never really thought about what it was actually called. Looks so cool. And that armor in the picture you linked is dope too. The Egyptians had some really rad-looking outfits and weapons (including Egyptian-looking stuff that isn't or probably isn't historically accurate).

Summoning and "de-conjuring" weapons and shields and such is one of the coolest superpowers to have. (I wish I could do that....) Unfortunate that a villain is the one that can do it. Could January do that with lightning, though? That would be seriously badass to create swords, shields, etc. out of pure electricity.

Acadian: Lighthammer and Stormcrow did their homework, and had this fight worked out in advance. At least until Nitokris crashed the party. Just one example of how things don't go quite the way you expect.

Nitokris was originally going to be a powered armor character, wearing a suit of ancient themed armor. I was originally looking at ancient Greek Hoplite armor turned power armor. Then I found some Egyptian themed suit of futuristic armor. Then I came across that pic of the Egyptian armor I linked to. Once I saw that, I knew that had to be it. But that was not going to work as a suit of power armor. So I pivoted to magic.

Then I thought of Nitokris, who was a real queen of Egypt, who reputedly invited all of her enemies to a feast in a special banquet hall. The room was below the Nile, and once they were all there, she opened up the floodgates and drowned them. Whether any of this is true or not, I liked the cut of her jib. She makes a great villain. The HPLHS folks used her in a few of their Dark Adventure Radio dramas. So I thought I might as well jump on the bandwagon as well.

Rather than have it be the original Nitokris still alive, I took another step, and decided it was just her suit of armor which was magical. It has been passed on from one wearer to another. There is a lot more to it than that. It is a curse. I can see the armor and its next bearer becoming a major arch-enemy for January in Season Two. Maybe then, or later, we will dig deeper into its history and the reality of its power.

As you noted, Blood Raven's arrival changes everything. Just as team LightCrow was not prepared for Nitokris, Nitokris was not prepared for Blood Raven. I wanted to show both sides receiving unexpected reinforcements to change the odds in unexpected ways.


Renee: Jan is getting better and better at her astral sensing. I cannot say I have any experience at that sort of thing IRL. But I have played plenty of RPGs that give me a lot of material to draw upon. Astral Space is very prominent in games like Shadowrun and Earthdawn, as it is where magic originates from in both. Using magic means using astral space, and vice-versa. They are inseparable.

There is a picture of the Lady Pharoah's armor in the last post. It is what inspired me to create Nitokris. It has a lot of style. Once I saw that, I knew I had to build a character around that outfit.

Blood Raven and Nitokris have a lot of history together. Well, Blood Raven and the Nitokris armor do at least.


RaderOfTheLostArk: I forgot to put up a picture of khopesh the last time. I fixed that this go around. Those are some of the coolest swords I have ever seen.

I originally got the idea of summoning items after working on January's quick change ability. In the old RPG Champions it was a power you could take. Basically you can instantly change into your costume, no matter the circumstances. I wanted to do something like that with January. I worked it in as a form of magical transference. She swaps her suit with whatever clothes she was wearing last. Blood Raven has taken that to a higher level, in that she can also call certain items to her at any moment. Mainly things like her magic swords.

If you ever watched the old Highlander TV show, a lot of fans sort of half-joking speculated that one of the Immortals' powers was the ability to store their swords within a sort of inter dimensional pocket. They could draw their sword from it at any time. So they could be at the beach, and still pull a katana out of their bathing suit. It is also sort of inspired by that idea.

Creating a sword out of lightning? Now that is a neat idea! I had never considered that. But I might go there. In Seven 2.0 I made conjured weapons like aetherial swords look like they were made of lightning. January might learn to call lighting and create a sword with it. Or she might actually enchant lightning into a permanent sword. For Season Three or maybe Four I see her going on a big adventure across time, space, and the multiverse. I pictured her going into the past during that and learning longswording from Scáthach, who also taught Blood Raven and Cú Chulainn. She might learn to make such a sword after that.




Since I forgot to post this the last time, a Khopesh

Active Denial System - Heat Ray

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (on the left)




Book 7.21 - Hammer Down
June 25


Blood Raven glanced back. Before January could ask, she answered the question that was in the younger heroine's eyes.

"I apprehended that since you had become involved, these miscreants might call in reinforcements," the scarlet-haired woman explained. "Hence I felt it prudent to lurk nearby, just in case."

"Finish the original three," she continued. "I shall deal with Nitokris."

January moved her eyes to Obsidian, who was now free of the ruined truck and back on his feet.

The black hat came charging in, and January was forced to duck out of the way of his fists. She did not want to block his attacks. That would just give him more kinetic energy to absorb. So she became Water, and used every ounce of her gymnastics and fighting skills to slip, dodge, duck, and roll out of the way of every one of his assaults.

In the meantime Blood Raven leaped upon Nitokris, and began to trade sword blows with the Egyptian villain. Celtic iron clashed against Egyptian bronze. Magic crashed against magic. It was a battle of titans.

"Your skills have improved Nitokris," January overheard Blood Raven say to her opponent. "Shall I find another mountain to pull down upon you?"

"I don't know who you are woman," the Egyptian said in a strong accent. "But you sealed your fate when you crossed me."

"Have you forgotten me so soon?" Blood Raven jibed. "Let me refresh your memory."

Bright golden light flashed as Blood Raven sent an arcane bolt from her fingertips. Nitokris dodged aside, directly into Blood Raven's sword. The scarlet-maned heroine had reversed her grip, and now held the sword by the blade rather than the grip. Its wolf-carved crossbar hammered down into Nitokris' gleaming bronze helmet, and drove her to her knees.

January was too busy to see what happened next. She somersaulted away from Obsidian, and moved them both away from Blood Raven and Nitokris. She snapped out her wings and took to the sky. She saw that Lighthammer was still having problems with Crosshair, and an idea bloomed in her head.

"Lighthammer, Throw!" she called out.

The silver, white, and gray armored vigilante came zooming toward her a moment later. She poured on the speed, and shot right at him as well. They both swerved slightly out of each other's way to avoid colliding. Their arms reached out and their hands clasped together. Lighthammer then poured on the speed and whipped them both around in a circle. He let go after a single revolution, and sent her rocketing away faster than she could ever manage on her own.

The rear superstructure of the museum ship rose up in front of January's eyes. She saw Crosshair there, doing something with his rifle. He stripped away parts and exchanged them for other components. The latter sprouted from the knobby pieces of metal and tech that sheathed his frame. In a moment he had transformed the weapon from a long-barreled sniper's weapon to a shorter assault rifle.

He raised his new rifle to bear upon January and opened fire. She rolled forward, and brought her wings up around her body in a cocoon. She felt a stream of automatic fire stitch across her frame. But her wings warded them all off. While faster, this new weapon did not pack the same punch as the sniper version he had used on her in their previous encounter at Cedar Point.

Then January was upon him. She would have put her feet through his face if he had not ducked out of the way. Instead she hit the superstructure of the ship just above him, and allowed her body to collapse into the steel like an accordion. Still in mid-air, she pushed out with her feet and somersaulted to the deck.

Again, Crosshair rolled out of being crushed underneath her. She snapped out with her wings, and he raised his rifle to block. Her first slash hacked the weapon in two. He backed up, and dropped both halves of the now useless gun. She followed, and cut at him again and again. He raised his arms defensively, and January sliced metal parts from them with every blow.

He produced a pistol from seemingly nowhere, and January ducked as hot energy sizzled past her head. She came up and grabbed the new weapon with both hands. She shoved it back into Crosshair's face, and the weapon shattered with the force of the blow. She followed with a power punch that left him swaying. Since he was clearly dazed she allowed herself to show off, and finished him with a roundhouse kick.

She lifted his unconscious body in her hands and leaped off the ship. She winged back across the dock, and dropped his body to the concrete below. Ahead of her she saw Lighthammer hovering in the air above Obsidian. Light streamed from the vigilante's palms, and bathed the villain in their glow. This was not the vigilante's signature solid light however. Instead the air rippled with heat haze, and the clothing on the African's body smoldered. It looked like he was being baked or microwaved. After long moments, the villain dropped unconscious from the heat ray, smoke wafting from his frame.

"Hooah!" Lighthammer crowed at the success of his newest tactic: an active denial heat-ray.

January cast her eyes around to find Sludge. She saw him ooze over the side of the dock and into the lake. Clearly, he was done as well. That only left Nitokris.

The Pharaonic villain actually gave as much back to Blood Raven as she took. She punched forward with her rectangular shield and pushed the elder heroine's raven sword back against her body. With the weapon so trapped, Nitokris cut at her exposed side. But a force field of golden light sprang up from Blood Raven's free hand, and the khopesh was turned aside.

The vampire then pushed in even closer and delivered a head butt to the Egyptian's face. She followed with a push kick that drove Nitokris back. But once the space had opened up between them, the Pharonic villain's sword and shield vanished, to be replaced with that bow she had shot January with earlier. A moment later it drove an arrow of golden energy into Blood Raven's force field. But Blood Raven turned it aside without even flinching.

Then the elder heroine closed the gap once more, and hammered away at Nitokris with Samhain. Nitokris' bow vanished, and her sword and shield once more appeared in her hands to turn aside the assault.

January could not help but to stare. She had literally never seen anyone able to stand toe-to-toe with her mentor. But the two hammered back and forth, blade against blade, magic against magic. Neither seemed able to gain a clear advantage in the exchange. It was like watching two mountains battering away at one another.

Now that she had a moment to concentrate, January could clearly feel the power within their newest enemy. As Blood Raven did, Nitokris glowed like a sun in the astral. The armor she wore whispered tales of time, and sand, and blood. Her wings were those of the sky gods. Her sword tore the flesh like a sandstorm. Her shield was harder than the stones of the pyramids. This was an ancient and terrible power, far older than Blood Raven, or even that elder heroine's own nightmare of a father. Perhaps it was even older than history itself?

She remembered what Blood Raven had told her, after she had revealed her true nature.

"Before there were meta-humans, there was magic. There has always been magic. There always will be."

"I thought Blood Raven didn't want to get involved in my sordid affairs?" Lighthammer's voice snapped January from her contemplations. She looked around to find him standing beside her. Then she stared back in amazement at the two arcane champions who dueled just a dozen feet away.

Blood Raven gestured with her open hand, and a snake of golden energy lashed out. It fixed itself around Nitokris' ankle. But before Blood Raven could yank it back and pull the villain from her feet, the Egyptian slashed down with her khopesh, and sliced the energy whip in two. That caused it to fizzle from existence.

"You'll find she's full of surprises," January murmured. She nodded to the older heroine. "I guess we should get involved in that."

"I kind of think we would just be getting in the way," Lighthammer shrugged. "But what about you, that looks nasty."

She followed his gaze down to her chest. The hole that Nitokris' arcane arrow had burned through her armor was coated in dried blood. Her chest hurt, even more than that time the djieien had impaled her on its fangs. But it was not enough to stop her. She knew how to take a hit after all.

"I'll live," she said simply. Then she looked back to the fight still going on. "We really should get in there."

"Ladies first," Lighthammer graciously gestured toward the combatants.

With that the two superheroes advanced in a pincer move. Each flew around one of Nitokris' flanks, while Blood Raven stood right in her face and traded sword strokes. The Egyptian must have seen that she was now outnumbered and outmaneuvered, for she darted skyward with those shining golden wings of hers. Momentarily free of Blood Raven, she drew a burner phone from her pocket, flipped it open, and pressed a button on it. Then she threw it down to the concrete below.

"You have two minutes until the bomb goes off," she crowed as Blood Raven shot up into the sky after her. "Pursue me, or disarm it, your choice."

With that she darted higher in the sky. Blood Raven spared only a moment to stare after her. Then she turned east, and soared over the small inlet of water between the museum ship and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

The building itself was a bizarre collection of geometric forms and cantilevered spaces. It was anchored by a high, square tower with a curved roof. A glass ramp, shaped like one face of a pyramid, stretched down from this to the main entrance. It reminded January of the Louvre. A second, round tower seemed to float in mid-air beside it, held up by only a narrow round column. It was connected to the main tower by a thin tunnel, and an odd bump protruded from the main structure opposite it.

Lighthammer followed in a blur of blue and white light. He actually landed on the roof before Blood Raven did, even though he had started after her.

"This was the first place I saw her," Lighthammer insisted. "It's probably close."

In the meantime January darted back down to earth, and scooped up the phone. It lay in pieces, shattered against the concrete.

"Get the sim card," Gadget said in her ear. "You can plug it into Sága."

January fiddled with the broken bits of plastic in her hand, and produced the tiny little electronic chip. She found that it would indeed snap into one of the ports built into her wrist computer.

"Ok, I've got this." Cray's voice now came over the line. "I have the number that the phone just called, give me a second to find the GPS... got it!"

"It's in the Rock Hall of Fame alright," Cray's deep, but mellow voice January's ears. She was already in the sky, and came down on the roof just a few seconds later. Blood Raven and Lighthammer had disappeared. The door torn off its hinges hinted at where they had gone. January folded up her wings on her back and raced inside.

She found herself in a stairwell that led down to a mechanical room, filled with pipes, dials, and valves. Cray's voice guided her out into the exhibit area beyond. Glass cases showed off outfits such as purple suits and leather jackets, alongside guitars, drums, flags, and all manner of memorabilia. People of all shapes and sizes milled in front of the displays. They wore cut offs or slacks, sweatpants or tights. They were young, they were old, they took pictures with their phones, listened to music piped through headphones attached to the exhibits, and just generally had a good time, until now.

The fire alarm blared to life around her, and people began to move quickly for the exits. January noticed Lighthammer standing next to a broken alarm handle, and nodded to him. There had to be thousands of people within the building. His quick thinking might save a lot of their lives if things went badly.

Time ticked away, and January raced down deeper and deeper into the building. Cray had pinpointed the location of the bomb down to two meters. But that did not take elevation into account. Unfortunately there were seven floors within the building, and the bomb could be on any one of them.

Thankfully there were three of them. That allowed them to split up and take one floor each. January leaped, and even flew over people to move as quickly as possible. All the while Avery's voice guided her this way and that. Finally she made her way into a small theater. It was blessedly empty. A documentary on the Who played on the screen. A very young Roger Daltrey was singing about his generation. The music was old. But she had to admit, it was still good. January was struck by how similar Daltrey looked to Rus, with his glorious mane of curly blond hair.

January turned on her night vision. That filled the darkened theater with bright blue-white illumination. Following Avery's minute instructions, she finally came to her prize. It was a shoebox stuffed under one of the seats. January pushed aside a half-eaten bag of popcorn, and gently slid the box out into the open. She held her breath the entire time, praying that it did not blow up in her face.

"Got it!" she exclaimed.

"Ok, check for tape holding it shut," Cray coached her while Blood Raven and Lighthammer came up to look over her shoulder. January found none. "Now gently lift the cover, and watch for any wires inside. There could be a second trigger glued to the bottom of the lid."

January did as he asked, and peered intently under the top of the box. Again, she saw nothing, and breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to safely remove to top and toss it aside.

Her feeling of relief vanished quickly when she saw what was inside. She saw two blocks of material wrapped in what looked like green plastic. The writing on the side proclaimed it as "Charge Demolition M112 with Taggant", plus more numbers and letters. Numerous wires snaked their way into and out of the blocks, connected to a cellphone.

Lighthammer swore loudly. "That's C-4. They used it all the time in IEDs over there."

"What do we do?" January asked the men on the comm unit. "Can I just pull the wires out of the explosives?"

"No don't!" Gadget cried out. "I see a failsafe, do that and it will go sky high."

"Thirty seconds," Cray intoned emotionlessly.

"I will deal with it," Blood Raven scooped it up in one hand, and turned to the doorway. But Lighthammer interceded.

"No, give it to me, I can fly faster," he insisted.

The flame-haired heroine did not argue with him. She simply handed him the box. With that the vigilante literally jetted from the room in a silver-white blur. January and Blood Raven followed - but as he had noted - with less speed. They reached the giant entrance to the Hall of Fame just in time to see him crash through the slanted glass ceiling and rocket into the sky.

January felt a wave of pressure pass through her as Lighthammer broke the sound barrier, and a deep boom rang in her ears. The building shivered around her. For a moment it almost felt like an earthquake. All around her people cried out in shock, and January took her eyes from her partner as he rapidly disappeared into the firmament. She had to insure that no one was injured.

Blood Raven was doing the same. She gestured with one hand, and a golden force field appeared in the air above the crowd. Broken shards of glass bounced and scattered harmlessly across it a moment later. January leaped closer, and began to move people out of the way.

Both she and Blood Raven turned to gaze upward once more, along with everyone else. Then the bomb burst into brilliant life high overhead and out over the lake. It was so far up that she barely even felt it, or heard the sound of the explosion. Lighthammer had been correct. He was a lot faster than either of them. Still, out of reflex January flexed out her wings to create a protective umbrella above the people around her.

Soon all that remained was a cloud of dark smoke that rapidly disintegrated in the winds high up above them. January held her breath. A glowing streak of light circled down, and resolved itself into Lighthammer's armored form. She breathed again, and relaxed as the crowd erupted in cheers.

Blood Raven disposed of the glass by carefully realigning her force field. Then she snuffed the energy screen from existence. She made her way out using the same exit Lighthammer had created. January went through the front door, bringing a crowd of people in tow. She imagined that was for the best. Besides, the fire alarm was still blaring inside the building, and it was really annoying.

She met up with her two partners back on the dock across the inlet from the museum. The FBI had already taken the two unconscious villains in tow, and were loading them up into an armored vehicle. Now the assistant attorney general walked their way, along with several of the federal agents.

Lighthammer turned to Blood Raven before the authorities could come near enough to overhear them.

"Thanks for the help," he said, "I appreciate it."

Blood Raven simply nodded in approval. "I may have misjudged you," was all she would say. Coming from her however, that was a lot.

"So you know that Egyptian?" January asked.

"We have fought many times," Blood Raven turned her gaze to the sky, as if searching for her opposite number. "I first encountered her in Egypt, before the Great War, then later in London, and still later in Greece. The last time was in the Sinai in 1956. I left her buried under a mountain. It appears she escaped."

"So is she... like you then?" January said tactfully.

"Nay," Blood Raven shook her head. "The first time I faced her, she was blonde and spoke with an English accent. I believe she was an antiquarian robbing Egyptian tombs. Later she was dark-haired, and spoke only Greek. This time, she was clearly another as well."

"That was an Arabic accent she spoke with too," Lighthammer added. "Not Pashto or Dari, and definitely not Farsi."

"So it's different people, wearing the same armor?" January imagined. "That was the panoply of Queen Nitokris you mentioned a few days ago?"

"Indeed," Blood Raven nodded, "it is an ancient curse, one far older than even that of our blood."

* * *

This is Gilda Gadfly, and do I have the dish for you dear subscribers. Less than an hour ago the Cleveland docks lit up as the Blackbirds from Detroit joined Ohio's own Lighthammer. The meta trio spearheaded a joint taskforce of the Ohio State Police and federal agents from enough agencies to fill a bowl of alphabet soup.

What was this unlikely combo's target? Well it was a shipment of just over two thousand pounds of heroin laced with fentanyl. That's right, a literal ton of drugs, estimated to be worth $150 million at street level.

Those drugs weren't going to just go quietly into that good night of course. An international quartet of baddies were there to throw down against our heroes. Three of them previously ambushed Lighthammer at Cedar Point last week. The fourth was new to the party. But she brought her own favors, in the form of a bomb that she left within the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame! But thanks to the fast as light work of Lighthammer, the explosives were spirited away, and detonated harmlessly above Lake Erie.

Our favorite crow and her raven partner were conspicuously absent in the aftermath of the victory over the drug-smuggling fiends. But Lighthammer joined Ohio Attorney General Dale Ost in a post victory press conference. In it the AG announced that this had been the Hammer's operation all along, and that all pending investigations into him have been dropped. When asked if this was just the beginning of an official relationship between the Hammer of Light and the police, both sides were equally cagey. We will have to just wait and see folks.

So there you have it. Lighthammer is now officially a white hat! Does this mean he has joined the Blackbirds as well? Just a few days ago Ôkami joined this Great Lakes Alliance. This would make the Allies a foursome. This smells like a real super team folks, not just a temporary join up, and we are watching it form right now.

Another heart-pounding episode with lots going on! Well and clearly described, it was.

Plenty of superhero growth going on here. The scarlet-haired soloist is getting more comfortable working with others. The crow of storms is really developing those wings as both conveyance and weapons. But the real growth here is the hammer of light - he has learned to incorporate the care of innocents around him into his actions.

’A glowing streak of light circled down, and resolved itself into Lighthammer's armored form.’
- - A wonderful piece of prose!

”So there you have it. Lighthammer is now officially a white hat!”
- - I couldn’t have said it better, Gilda!


Nits:
’He stripped away parts and exchanged them {for?} other components.’
’Each flew around one {of?} Nitokris' flanks,’

Again I think it is awesome that Raven and the Egyptian Lady Pharaoh already know each other, and even taunt each other casually. I predict after all this is over, Pharaoh will somehow survive & escape, but let's read further...

The Lighthammer just did something cool, there. Wicked! He whipped her around like an ion particle!

Man, Crosshair is an oily one. She breaks his gun, at least. Oh cool, Crosshair is done after she pushes his own pistol right into his face! Unconscious, at least.

Lol the hammer microwaves Obsidian. And that's clever, since he has the Earth equivalent of Reflect Damage. This chapter has a lot of stuff going on, it's overly stimulating (as Acadian says) and I'm a little hungover today. My brain feels like it's ping-ponging with all this activity.

Sludge slips over into the lake!

I like that January and Hammer let the two remaining fighters duke it out alone for awhile. It's sort of like that is THEIR fight, which Raven must face alone.

Ha WOW that is clver!!! I mean clever! The Egyptian has a burner phone which she claims will trigger a bomb. Holy [censored]!



NOOOO!!!!

They're arguing briefly over who should take the bomb away. The way you describe Lighhammer breaking the sound barrier is really wicked.

And I was right. The Egyptian with the golden armor escapes. Goodbye, until next time.



I wish I could have Ryo's superpower. Disappear at will, or fade away at least. Especially when I was younger, and got into trouble quite a lot! I'm afraid of heights big time, so flying is out. And I'd have no use for a lot of the things Raven and Jan do. I'd probably burn down some whole, entire neighborhood if I could gather lightning! Oops.

Is Sludge inspired by Clayface, SubRosa? Sounds similar based on how goopy he is and how weapons can cut through him the way they do here.

The ancient Egyptians sure loved their curses.

Lighthammer and January sound like they could be a killer figure skating or dance team with how he can whip her around like that and she can take it easily.

Move over, Chuck Yeager. Lighthammer doesn't need a plane to break the sound barrier.

Acadian: We have seen January and Blood Raven working together as a real partnership in the past. This whole book was all about a larger team coalescing around them. One that will be vital to the endgame of Season One of the Crow show. Okami and Lighthammer are now front and center with them. Gola, Isaac, and Archie are out there as well. Wait until you see who else gets introduced in the new book I start today.

Thanks for those nits. It is invaluable having another set of eyes to look at things to see what slipped through the cracks of my own awareness.


Renee: Well, Blood Raven knows the Egyptian, after a fashion. She and that armor have a history. Even if the current wearer is not aware of it.

These last two episodes were a challenge to write, as there are so many characters involved, and each has their own unique abilities. But it was good practice for things to come. I have a truly gigantic battle coming up in the new book that makes this one or the big fight with the Nazis during Crystal Death look tiny.

Burner phones and IEDs really go together these days, which is why I went for that combo. It is another variation on the supervillain standard escape plan: put innocents in danger and force the heroes to choose between saving them or catching the bad guy.

That is exactly what Ryo has that power to fade away and disappear. As an autistic person he has issues with being in public, and people looking at him and paying attention to him. It stresses him out to the point where eventually he has to escape. So that is the natural route his magical ability took. While January is a fighter. She stands up to bullies. So her magical abilities developed into invulnerability, strength, speed, etc...


RaderOfTheLostArk: Sludge is definitely inspired by charaters like Clayface or Sandman (the Marvel Comics version, not the Gaiman one). I wanted someone that would be immune to the kinetic damage of Lighthammer's solid light. For the same reason Obsidian is inspired the X-Men's Black King, who absorbed kinetic energy.

Things like figure skating did inspire me, as did the old fastball special by Colossus and Wolverine. I wanted a nice piece of teamwork to show that unlike the villains, January and Lighthammer were in fact, a team, not just a collection of powered individuals.

One of the ways that Lighthammer stands out from Blood Raven and January (who also fly) is that he is much, much faster than either of them. Not to mention just plain more skilled at it. I don't know his top speed. But its well over Mach 2 at this point. I can see him eventually learning to turn his body into solid light. At that point he will be able to travel at the speed of light. With all of its inherit time dilation.










Ryo (RL Alex Mallari jr)

Samurai Armor

Chujitsu inspiration

Witch Bottles

Saturn Sky

Hoverbike example





Book 8.1 - Blood

June 25 - July 5, 2019

The inner sanctum of the Witch House could be confusing at times. The way the designs laid into the pebble mosaic in the floor shifted under the eye. Or the how the metal strips set into the walls morphed from one form to another. Or how the beads that hung from the ceiling flowed and undulated to transform it from a high vault, to an irregular landscape of inverted hills and valleys.

January always had to be mindful of her thoughts in this place. The sanctum responded to them. It recreated itself in reply. Blood Raven had once told her that all things were possible here, as well as all places and all times. Her own power always felt so much stronger here. As if the room echoed it, amplified it, and brought it bubbling right up to the surface of her being.

Right now the room did not distract her with the phantasmagoria of shapes and colors it was wont to form itself into. She was far too concerned with using her left forearm to sweep aside the palm strike that Ryo had directed to her face. She followed through with that same motion, and twisted her hips like a fulcrum to bring her right fist forward in a power punch. He slapped the blow aside with ease, and countered with a kick to her knee. She raised her leg and took it on the shin, and followed up with a snap kick at his groin.

Again, he blocked, and delivered a side kick at her head. January ducked under it, and went low to his gut with a flurry of punches. He could not block them all. Instead he faded even as January's fists drove home. He slipped from the world of the physical, and became a shadow cast upon the warp and weft of reality.

But that did not save him from the assault. January's fists slammed home, and he was sent sliding back across the floor of the sanctum sanctorum. He tapped out, and rubbed his stomach absentmindedly with one hand. He turned to Blood Raven, and awkwardly spat his mouth guard into his gloved hands.

"How is she able to strike me?" he asked.

Blood Raven's cape fluttered slightly, even though there was clearly no breeze in the windowless chamber. January still wondered exactly how she did that. Clearly it was magic, part of how she radiated a sense of power from deep within her being. The world just reshaped itself around her, to make her look and feel more impressive and imposing.

"Just as you have enchanted yourself, she has done the same," Blood Raven explained. "January does not simply strike your body, she strikes your aura. Her attacks are inherently magical in nature, as is the rest of her being. It is the same with an arcane bolt spell, or my own claws. The physical harm they cause is incidental. The true damage is in the aether."

"So I can do that as well..." Ryo mused. It was not a question, rather a consideration voiced out loud. "So how can I counter that?"

"You must steel your aura, just as you do your body." Blood Raven explained. "Forge your magical self into an adamantine entity. Or perhaps, into one that it is no more present than your body. Fade your essence from reality, just as you fade your body from it."

"So more practice then?" Ryo said.

"More practice," Blood Raven intoned. "There is no substitute for action in the real world."

January ran one hand over the hole that Nitokris had shot through the chest plate of her armor that same afternoon. She was still sore, even though it had taken place hours earlier. Now she understood why that arrow of magical energy had burned through her armor like it was tissue paper. It was an inherently magical attack. It had probably not even been an arrow at all, but rather an arcane bolt that merely took the appearance of an arrow. It had struck her aura, and perhaps even the aura of her armor. Nothing physical could have stopped it.

In the meantime Ryo put his mouth guard back over his teeth. Then he moved back to spar with January. He wore padded headgear to protect his face, chest, and forearms. She however, was clad in her Stormcrow armor. Now that she had discarded her cape, she kept her wings folded up neatly upon her back. They molded themselves to her body, as a bird's wings did. Only the trailing feathers at their extremes hung free, as an ordinary cloak might.

Fists and feet went flying once more. January forgot everything else. Now that Ryo was out as a physical mage such as herself, she could really let go with him. She could never do that with a mundane opponent. She sensed that likewise, he felt the same. That made them ideal sparring partners. For neither had to hold back against the other. They could truly push one another to their limits.

Ryo was fast, so very fast, more so than January was herself. That was a new feeling for her. She had to think ahead, and search for every little telltale clue that might telegraph his moves. Every minute shift of his weight, every tiny glance of his eyes, all were oracles hinting at the future. Often times she read these signs and portents well. Other times, not so much.

The latter was clearly underscored when he went for a leg sweep that sent her airborne to escape. She came down and struck hard with a power punch. But he was ready, and slipped aside and caught her arm. He used her forward momentum even as he twisted aside. The next thing January knew, she went sailing over his hip. She slammed down hard on the floor a moment later.

She rolled to one side, and his foot stamped down at the spot she had inhabited a moment before. January sprang back and up into the air. Her wings snapped out, and she beat them down in a great sweep. A tremendous blast of air howled through the sanctum at Ryo. But he stood firm through it all, as if he was not even there.

He was not there of course. Ryo had faded again. The hurricane of force simply washed through the shadow of his being, and broke harmlessly upon the distant walls.

Blood Raven clapped her hands loudly, and stepped between them to signal a halt. January dropped back to the floor and looked around. She had been so focused on Ryo, that she had not noticed that Cray had entered the room. As ever, the bespectacled man was dressed like Mr. Rogers, with a green cardigan over his button down shirt. January's eye traveled to the black garment bag slung over his shoulder, and she could not refrain from cocking her head slightly to one side in curiosity.

The gray-haired man's mustache rose in a smile. He swung the black leather bag off his back, and presented it to Ryo.

"Clothes make the man," the elder hacker declared.

"That is because naked people have little or no influence on society," Blood Raven finished the quote from Mark Twain. January idly wondered if she had heard Mr. Clemens say that in real life?

"This just came from Mr. Blackwood," Cray explained. "So you can have some influence in society."

Ryo said nothing, but January could sense that the attention was making him uncomfortable. He had never liked people staring at him. Who did? But Ryo had a few more issues with that than most. January studiously looked away. At least until she heard the metal on metal of the zipper opening. Then she could not help but turn her head.

Hanging neatly within the garment bag was a suit of black, gray, and white armor. January imagined the base layer was dragon silk, the same as Blood Raven used in her own armor. Along with it came boots, gauntlets, a chest piece, and even a helmet. All of which she suspected was made of the same nanotwinned cubic boron nitride as the solid plates in her own armor.

January wondered how they all fit within the bag, which was no more than a few inches thick. But given some of the things she had been witness to since becoming a superhero, and some of the things she had done herself, it was not really that remarkable. Mr. Blackwood clearly was a master at his art.

Ryo did not say a word. Instead he doffed his protective gear. A moment later he peeled off his shirt, which revealed a body of wiry muscle that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo. January turned away to grant him some privacy, as did Blood Raven.

January took advantage of this quiet moment to sit and meditate. She closed her eyes and ran her elemental mantra through her head, first in English, then in Old Norse. She wove her mana through the words, and blended them together like the fibers in a dress. She allowed her power to wash about her, and it left her feeling cleansed and calm. She spent some time there, just breathing deeply in and out, and bathed in her magic.

"There," Cray's voice rang out. "How does it fit?"

"Perfectly," Ryo's voice came back in reply.

January opened her eyes and let her mana ebb down quietly into her frame. She turned with Blood Raven and they both looked Ryo over.

He was every inch a high tech samurai, starting with a body suit of woven fibers. Over that he wore boots, gauntlets, and arm guards made of metal strips there were painted black and white. A cuirass of the same material protected his torso, made from overlapping horizontal bands of the meta-steel. More strips of the metal girded his shoulders. Finally his head was encased with what looked like a samurai helmet, with its characteristic visor, long neck guard of overlapping plates, and a crest of a wolf's head. A face mask - also clearly Japanese influenced - covered his features. That left only the strip of flesh around his eyes uncovered.

"Yatta!" Ryo breathed.

"Who-ta?" Cray wondered.

"It's a good thing," January explained.

"There is one thing missing," Blood Raven noted with a critical eye. She held out her hand, and January felt magic blossom from her fingers and call across space. A moment later she held a sword there. Appropriately enough, it was a katana. Its curved blade was blackened, except for the cutting edge, which was polished silver-gray, and showed the characteristic wavy pattern created by the hardening process. Its hexagonal crossguard was decorated with carvings of wolves, as was the very tip of the pommel. The grip appeared to be encased in some form of bumpy white leather, and was wrapped in crisscrossed black and white cloth.

January felt power howl within the blade, like a wolf baying at the moon. Clearly the enchantment made the weapon harder, sharper, and more flexible than an ordinary blade. But she also sensed something more. She suspected that it might be something to do with that howl, something aural. But she could not be sure. What she could be certain of was the sword's name. It announced itself proudly within the astral.

"Chujitsu," Ryo intoned as he took the sword in his hand. He stared at it as if in awe.

"Faithful," Blood Raven murmured.

They all stepped back as he took a few practice swings with it. Then he laid the blade upon one fingertip, just above the crossguard. It balanced perfectly there.

"I only finished it this morning," Blood Raven continued. "It is a blade of star-fallen steel, forged in the old ways. It will serve you honorably."

"I do not know how to thank you," Ryo lowered the sword to his side. "You have all done so much for me."

"You can thank us by using these tools with wisdom. Be the beacon of hope our city needs. Remain faithful to the ideals that brought you here." Blood Raven ended her words by opening her hand once more. This time a scabbard of black lacquered wood formed there, decorated with fittings of horn.

Ryo nodded solemnly, and stared down at the sword in his hand. January wondered if the enormity of his decision might be weighing down upon him. She had entered this life without really thinking about it. It had not been a conscious choice, so much as a string of events that she had allowed herself to be swept along into. Only afterward had she truly understood the covenant she had made, and the responsibilities she had assumed.

Ryo - no he was Ôkami now - took the scabbard and sheathed the sword within it. Then he attached it to the belt on his armor. He truly did look like some sort of science fiction samurai, with one foot in his ancestry, and the other in the future.

Sága chimed. January looked down upon her digital assistant's screen that was mounted in her forearm. She smiled at the text message she saw there.

"There is one more thing," she said to all, "and it just pulled up in the backyard. We will have to go down to see it though. It's too big to bring inside."

"We should change then," Ryo noted. Blood Raven stopped him from unbuckling his sword belt however. She raised her hands, and her eyes glowed bright red. January felt mana pour off of her, and connect with the Witch House. January sensed it flow through the house like water through pipes. It paused at one point after another, and each time it appeared to awaken some formerly dormant power. A spider web of energy quickly blossomed to life, and surrounded the building and all around it.

"We are now free from prying eyes, both mortal, and mechanical." Blood Raven lowered her arms, and her eyes went back to normal.

"I can feel it," January said. "It extends beyond just the building, and across both the front and back yards. I can feel... nexuses - like wireless access points - throughout the house and property. They seem to be broadcasting the signal."

"Good," Blood Raven nodded. "Your power grows. They are witch bottles that Keziah placed within the walls and floors long ago, and buried on the property. I have... upgraded them. They form a barrier against all harmful magic, as well as unwanted surveillance. Since you are now strong enough to sense them, it is time you learned to control them. Once we are finished."

The older heroine glanced at Ôkami for a moment, and then allowed January to lead the way out of the sanctum. They trundled down the stairs to the second floor, and finally the ground level of the house. Then they were out the back door. The driveway that hugged the right side of the building ran all the way to the back of the yard. There it ended at a detached garage. Ôkami's blue Saturn Sky sat running in front of the closed garage door.

Avery turned the engine off and climbed out of the driver's seat. Isaac clambered out of the other side a moment later. Both wore dirty work clothes, and their hands were stained with grease and grit. But the two meta-inventors looked quite pleased with themselves.

"Ôkami, welcome to your new car," Avery preened.

"It looks like the old one," Ôkami noted bluntly.

"Well, it is the old one," Isaac murmured, "but we made a few adjustments, as promised. Come on have a seat, and we'll show you what we have done."

Ôkami obliged them by stepping up to the car. He paused for a moment to unhook his sword from his belt. But again, he was stopped before he could do so, this time by Avery.

"You won't need to take that off to sit inside." the meta-inventor insisted.

Ôkami raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead he stepped through the open doorway, and slid down into the driver's seat. As promised, his sword did not catch on the car's frame or upholstery. Instead the fender and seat seemed to morph out of the way to accommodate the weapon. Ôkami took a moment to look over the interior. Other than the malleability, it appeared exactly the same to January.

"You'll notice we added..." Isaac's words trailed off as Ryo pushed a button under the dash that January imagined was new. At least she had never noticed him use it in the times she had ridden in the car in the past.

She heard a click from the back of the car, and saw that the trunk had popped open. She stepped around to get a better look. The trunk was small, really small, a situation made even worse by the fact that the bump of the gas tank protruded up into the center of the space, and blocked off more than half the area.

She saw that this large bump had detached itself from the body of the car. Now it rose up into the air, and floated out over the empty space behind the vehicle. She stared in amazement as stretched out and unfolded, again and again, in a series of transformations. In just a matter of seconds it had changed into the familiar shape of a motorcycle. But this bike had no wheels. Instead it floated above the ground. Otherwise it had a sleek, modern look to it, much like her own Victory.

"I took out the car's gas tank after I replaced the engine with a cold fusion power plant," Isaac explained.

"Then I put in the hoverbike," Avery preened. "The altitude is limited. But it will get you over most traffic if you adjust it higher. It should be able to work over water as well. I haven't really tested that though. So you might want to pack a snorkel and flippers the first time you try that."

"Impressive, most impressive," Ôkami breathed as he sat down upon the seat. The bike dipped for a moment with his added weight, then rose back its normal height a moment later. He tried the throttle. In a flash of speed, he darted backward down the driveway. He was halfway to the street before he was able to stop it. January fought to suppress a smile. She still remembered her first time on her own motorcycle. She had come just inches from planting it into the side of Avery's Geo.

"Does it come with a manual?" Ôkami shouted from down the driveway.

Avery's fingers danced over the screen of his phone. "I just sent it to you."

Ôkami dug into his belt, and drew forth his own mobile phone. Again, January had to suppress a smile. The figure he cut was just so antipodal. He was a science fiction samurai sitting on a hovering motorcycle, reading from his smartphone. Granted, she was an armored crow with a computer on her wrist.

"You made a manual for it?" Cray said in a low tone, too soft to carry down the driveway to where Ôkami sat.

"He's the only one I know who actually reads them," January said in an equally quiet voice.

"Yeah," Avery chimed in. "He reads them front to back for everything, and I do mean everything, even a can opener. He has every one of them saved in a box, just in case."

"So, are you guys going to stay for dinner?" January raised her voice so all could hear. "I was going to get pizza."

"Does a minotaur excrete in a maze?" Gadget grinned from ear to ear. "Your pizza place is the best in the city. I can't believe we have gone without it for most of our lives."

"Pizza?" Isaac wondered. "Well you can count me in for that."

"I think it a capital idea," even Blood Raven nodded. "Afterward I shall instruct you in the art of manipulating the Witch House's magical defenses."

"You know, this place is starting to feel like a second base, after the Raven's Nest," Cray said.

"You should all move in," January joked. Well, maybe she was not really joking. "There is plenty of room."

"Now that is a thought," Ôkami noted.

Though we’ve been exposed to Ryo’s magicks before, this episode really felt like the birth of a superhero, as he capably holds his own sparring with the SuperCrow and gets fitted out with very appropriate gear.

Neat advice from Blood Raven, given Okami’s skills – he needs to learn to turn his aura to either steel or air when needed to protect it from magical attacks. Even more important, however is this bit of Blood Raven advice: "You can thank us by using these tools with wisdom. Be the beacon of hope our city needs. Remain faithful to the ideals that brought you here."

That Witch House sounds really neat. I love the way it responds to our thoughts, although this can get one in trouble too, if he or she can't control their thinking. In a way, the Witch House sounds like it's based from our dream realities. I can just imagine the crazy amount of CGIs which would need to get resourced if Stormcrow were a movie, or TV series, just for this house.

Ryo uses his super power even when they're sparring! Well, both of them are using their powers. I suppose it makes sense to practice in this way, because you never know when magic might be needed.

Ryo gets his own suit. And sword. Very nice.

Ôkami drives a Saturn! Guess he'll look good driving around with Gadget's Geo in tow. Oh wow. So Ôkami's Saturn now sounds like a cross between a Transformer, and something James Bond would drive.

Time for pizza. Capital!



Yes. I am glad to see you say this. Some of these chapters are more challenging than others, for sure. How long (on average) do you spend on each chapter?

Acadian: It took a while, but I finally got Ryo into the mix. The previous book was basically his introduction. From here on out he is a regular member of the ever-growing team.

I deliberately chose the name "Faithful" for his sword to serve as a reminder of what is expected of every superhero. Also because I wanted something that was not ridiculously hyperbolic. Most Japanese swords tended to have pretty humble names. One of the most famous ones was "The Grass Cutting Sword". So I wanted something in a similar vein.


Renee: I actually have a floor plan for the entire Witch House now. I will be posting it in later episodes, when January takes someone on a tour of the place. The sanctum is very much what you described. It is a place that is not entirely real, not entirely part of our universe. That is what makes it such a great place to train. It is a place where it is easier to shape reality however you want.

Ryo needed not only a super suit, but a travel power. The latter is something that I have been forced to pay a lot of attention to since I started writing. In most super team comics they have some sort of vehicle that the team all uses to get to wherever the story is. The X-Men have the Blackbird, the Avengers have their Quinjets, and so on.

The Allies have a challenge in that unlike those other teams, they don't all live together in one central base. So they each need their own way to get to where the action is taking place. Most of them can fly. So that is their travel power. I couldn't have Ryo taking the bus to the get to the super battles. And a regular car would just get stuck in traffic and the battles would be over before he could get there. So now he has a hoverbike, which he can fade with to drive through things if he needs to.

I think I mostly answered the question on length in our PM. I really do not know how long I spend on each individual post, since I don't write them separately. I write the entire book in one block, then split it up once it is finished. It is a lot of hours though.





The Rauðskinna

The Lakeside Mall can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map

Lakeside Mall - Aerial View

Lakeside Mall - Closer Aerial View

Lakeside Mall - Food Court Entrance

Lakeside Mall - Food Court (empty as I took this during lockdown)

Lakeside Mall - Food Court Carousel

Lakeside Mall - Kids Playscape

Lakeside Mall - Upper Balcony





Book 8.2 - Blood

June 26, 2019


January stared from her tablet to the print outs that littered her bed. She knew she should do this on the kitchen island, or the old desk in the study, or even on the living room floor. She had the entire Witch House to herself after all. But she was used to doing all of her research in her bedroom, and old habits die hard after all.

A digital copy of the Rauðskinna was splashed across the screen of her Fire 7 tablet. Thankfully Cray had scanned the real book and saved it as a .pdf long ago. The one time she had been in the presence of a physical copy, it had utterly revolted her. It had felt like a spider walking across her spine. She could not understand how anyone who found it - like her great-grandfather Jack Parsons - would ever want to use it. Just being near it was repellant.

At least her strong reaction appeared to assuage Blood Raven's paranoia. The older heroine had suspected her of being of the Summoner before. January was still not sure if she accepted that she was innocent. January knew that asking for a copy of Nátthrafn's red-skinned grimoire did not engender trust. But the fact was she had to know what she faced if she was ever going to help stop her eight times great-grandfather.

Her eyes moved from the Rauðskinna's pages to photos of the Summoner's crime scenes. Blood Raven had documented all of them. At least those she knew of. January compared the summoning circles from each source. She could see that the Summoner's first two were identical to those illustrated in the Rauðskinna. But after that they began to diverge, in greater and greater ways.

Gadget had said that the one he used to summon the djieien in Ferndale had been a circuit. It had two power sources and a load. So she had her desktop computer turned on, and simple circuit diagrams splashed across its screen. She was no electrician like Kell. But she could understand what the meta-inventor meant. There was nothing random about anything in the rituals. It all served a purpose. She could see where energy was raised and where it was funneled to. She could also understand how the symbols inscribed around the circles and paths between them controlled it all. Enough so that she imagined that just changing a few key runes might alter the entire summoning.

The Summoner had adapted his tools in his third and fourth conjurings. He had expanded beyond the purely Norse runes and Latin text of the Rauðskinna. But he had not truly diverged from the basic ideas. He had simply gotten more diverse with his means of accomplishing them. Blood Raven had been correct. He was expanding his repertoire, flexing his muscles, and gaining power.

This was what she had to face, and defeat, before it was too late.

Her phone chimed. It was not the usual tone. This was the cawing of a crow.

January nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden intrusion into her thoughts. She knew that tone. It was a call from her Stormcrow line, being forwarded to her normal phone. She took a moment to call up her mana. An instant later she was clad in her armor, and tapped a button on Sága's screen to answer the call.

"This is Stormcrow," she said simply. For once she had not used her perky phone voice. She tried not to smile, or otherwise preen over the little victory.

"This is Captain Nowakowski of the Sterling Heights PD," a decidedly masculine voice rang out through her digital assistant's screen. January double-checked the number, and it was the same that the police chief had given her while working the Crystal Death case.

"Chief Now." January found herself standing up a little straighter. "What can this finely feathered crow do for you?"

"You can head over to the Lakeside Mall." The top cop of the suburb in which she nested got straight to the point. "There's some sort of meta disturbance taking place there. Reports are sketchy right now. But it looks like someone is disappearing and reappearing out of thin air, and someone else is walking through cars and walls."

"I am on my way." January insisted.

She took a moment to center herself. Her elemental mantra ran through her head, and sprang to life around her in a glowing circle of Eldar Futhark runes. Her mana flowed through the words, and washed her clean.

Earth give me strength, keep me grounded, protect me from harm.

Air give me quickness in body and wit. Let the weights of the world fall from me.

Water make me flexible in thought and form. Let me flow, let me crash.

Fire give me passion and energy. Transform me in the night sky

Spirit weave all together in balance. Bring me peace.

Physical eyes still shut, she opened her astral gaze upon her surroundings. She felt the awesome power of the sanctum above her, threatening to overwhelm everything else. January shut that out, doing the equivalent of holding up a thumb over the sun, in order to better see the sky around it.

She felt the witch bottles scattered through the walls of the house, and across the grounds outside. Each was a nexus within a magical web that both protected, and permeated, every inch of the abode. As Blood Raven had taught her, January tapped those bottles, and woke their apotropaic powers. A screen of energy hummed to life in the astral, and cloaked the house and grounds from watchers.

She let her awareness drop back to the physical world. There was no sign that she had activated the wards. The breeze that wafted through her open window was just as soft, the birds still sang outside, and hardwood floor still creaked slightly beneath her feet. But part of her could still feel the power glowing outside the bounds of ordinary reality.

January glanced at the window. That had been her method of entry and egress when her mother had been living with her. She decided to give the screen a rest from being bent into and out of the frame. Instead she bolted down the stairs and out the back door. Then she hurtled skyward with black wings unfolded. She soared above the trees that crowded both sides of the Clinton River, and made her way toward the mall.

"I got the call Stormcrow." Avery's voice was now in her ear. "I'm looking at parking lot cameras right now. I don't see anything yet."

"Chief Now, could you ask your people to hold back?" January shot across M-59 as she flew north and east. A nice, green, suburban subdivision stretched out below her now. But the little homes and streets ended in no time at all at a long, narrow swath of grassland that stretched for miles to the north and south. Massive electrical transmission towers ran the length of the cleared space. They reminded January of the steel bones of giants, roped from one to the next with heavy black cables.

January gained altitude to avoid the power lines. She was not worried about being electrocuted. She and lightning were clearly on good terms. But she did not want to cause a blackout either. It was bad enough that she robbed people of sunshine every time she was in a bad mood.

With her added height she could easily see the sprawling complex of the Lakeside Mall ahead. It was just a few miles from the Witch House, as the crow flied. Well, as she flew. It only took her moments to traverse the final stretch of suburban homes beyond the power lines, and cross over the divided lanes of Schoenherr Road. Then she was over the mall itself.

The temple of commerce was surrounded by a massive parking lot. That in turn was ringed with numerous smaller stores and restaurants. Two small lakes actually did gird the southern and eastern edges of the lot, with more suburban homes and apartments clustered about their far shores.

In the center of it all was the mall itself of course. As with the Oakland Mall, from the air she could see that it was not so much a single massive structure, but rather half a dozen buildings seemingly welded together. It reminded her of a starfish, with each major department store forming a leg. The image was underscored by a second tier of the roof that rose up over the main level of the ceiling. This did spread out in five legs along the central spine of the massive structure, and this higher space was dotted with numerous skylights.

January did not see anything overly dramatic taking place. There were no laser beams tearing through the sky, or giant beasts rampaging through the lot, nor even ill-tempered Canadians brandishing unobtanium claws. She did notice a large knot of people standing near the food court entrance in the south face of the edifice however.

Here a rounded entrance protruded from the rest of the commercial palace. It was fronted with glass from ground to ceiling, creating an open, airy feel. Orange awnings jutted out to provide shade from the sun, and signs lined the edge of the roof prompting onlookers to shop, eat, and the like. A valet station stood right next to it, built into a slanted rectangle that seemed to jut from the rest of the structure.

January nosed down to the earth. That caused her speed to increase dramatically. She was obliged to feather back her wings to slow her descent to a manageable speed. Voices raised, and all eyes turned to her as she brought herself to a stall above the ground. She pulled her wings in close above the heads of the onlookers, and dropped the last few feet to the concrete below. She did not have to even bend her knees to take the impact. Dropping seven feet was no more remarkable than taking an ordinary footstep after all.

People shouted all at once, and several pointed to the glass doors leading into the mall. January briefly considered trying to get them to slow down and speak one at a time to learn what had happened. But she realized that she would find out soon enough if she just followed their gesticulations and went inside.

So she did. The automatic doors slid open to allow her within. Directly in front of her was a massive carousel. It was two stories tall, and loaded with artistically inspired horses, zebras, giraffes, tigers, and other animals. Naturally it was filled with laughing and shouting children, while their adults lurked around it.

This created somewhat of a traffic jam for January to pick her way through. By the time she got around the last of it, her nose was assaulted by the smell of fried, baked, grilled, and otherwise overly-processed foods. It was a phantasmagoria of dozens of scents all mixed into together. Every manner of mini-restaurant ringed the boundaries of the area, with glowing signs overhead advertising their wares. Overworked and underpaid people of all sizes and shapes had paused from their labors underneath. They were all staring deeper into the mall. At least until someone shouted Stormcrow's name. Then all eyes turned to her.

All except one pair of eyes. These belonged to a person who was in such a hurry to move through the asteroid field of tables, chairs, and mall-goers that clogged the interior of the food court that he literally did not step aside to avoid them. Instead he moved right through them. He was clad in black tactical gear, but nothing that looked like actual armor. His head was covered in a black balaclava - or was it baklava? January could never remember which was a ski mask, and which was a tasty treat.

"Ok, this guy can either phase or become intangible. Or maybe he can change his quantum state from particles to a wave, so he has the probability of existing on either side of a barrier." Avery noted in her ear. "But at least he doesn't disappear like Ryo does. Maybe we should call him in for this?"

"Let's hold on," January mused absentmindedly. "We don't really know what's going on here."

Her brain was busy gauging the amount of space between the ceiling and the heads of the people below. She could fit in there, but the down strokes of her wings would definitely knock more than a few people out. She would have to do this the old-fashioned way.

A single leap took her up into the air, high enough to feel the ceiling scrape against her back. It also took her forward, over the heads of the worst of the throngs. She landed just shy of woman pushing a stroller bearing a blue-bedecked toddler. To avoid crashing into them she instantly sprang back into the air. One somersault later and she was back on the ground, and through the worst of the food court.

She became water, and flowed this way and that around the people who still went to and fro, but usually in her way. In moments she darted out of the court entirely, and into a wide hallway. The center of this was small playscape of plastic toy-like cars and trucks for children to sit in. She planted one hand on the roof of a miniature truck, and used it to give her the boost she needed to bound over a knot of shoppers.

The corridor opened up into a large indoor atrium, and January realized that she was on the upper level of the mall, not the lower one. Hooray for building on a hillside. She stood on a balcony that ringed the wide, open space. To her left a set of escalators endlessly trundled up and down between the two levels, in front of both stories of what used to be Sears. The sign for the bankrupted department store had long since been removed, and its entrances were shuttered off. Directly beneath her on the lower level was a small lounge area sunk into the floor. Across the balcony from her on the upper floor was a massive shoe store, and flanking her were a sports hat store and a combination clothing and shoe store clearly aimed at teen and twenty-something males.

"Get away from me!"

A distinctly feminine voice rang out to her right. January followed the sound to the other side of the atrium, where she saw the black tacti-gear man accost a slender woman. She wore black leather pants and a strappy, open-backed top that left little of her willowy frame to the imagination. One side of her head was shaved, and her jet black hair flopped over it in a very stylish punk side bob. Her features were obscured under a dark scarf, but her sloe eyes flashed with emotion from across the space.

January's instincts kicked in, and she acted without a second thought. She leaped over the balcony and into empty space. Her wings instantly snapped out from her back, and she soared through the open air to the walkway that ringed the far side of the atrium. She came down right beside the pair a second later. She casually brushed the man's hand from the woman's shoulder, and quickly inserted herself into the space between them.

"Slow your roll chummer," she fell into Shadowrun slang without thinking about it. "This chica's not slotting what you're running."

The man cursed in something that sounded Chinese.

"What does that even mean? Get out of my way you lunatic!" he finally insisted in perfect English. He punctuated his words by trying to shove January away. She responded with a forearm block that swept his hand aside, and had to restrain herself from instantly replying with a palm strike to his face.

"I'm trying to play nice here," January gritted out. "Now why don't you take a deep breath and leave this nice woman alone."

"This is none of your business," he growled. "If you will not get out of my way, I will go through you."

"Valhalla awaits..." January snarled in return.

Yeah that is true, you couldn't have Ryo taking the bus or a cab or even an Uber, if he has to be somewhere right away! And yes, they do not live together, so it'll be a challenge sometimes to meet all as one from now on. Maybe Ryo can live with Jan in her gigantic Witch House.

That's crazy how that ancient tome has actual negative power Jan can pick up on. I wonder if Cray feels anything as he was scanning it to make those images...

One of my Skyrim characters (Mycharonna) has an actual, negative power to her too. Go ahead and laugh whoever reads this. I mean, she's a toon, right? She's nothing but a collection of images onscreen. But I'm not kidding about this. She's a terror. She's one of my only characters who can communicate indirectly with me. She can do so through dreams and nightmares. Well, a couple years back I was doing some mod-testing, and needed someone else to confirm something, so I sent one of my Mycharonna game saves to Lopov. He opened up my save, looked slowly at Mych, closed the game, and never reopened it. Because HE felt her negative power, too.

I'm just saying that I believe there's stuff out there which we can't know about 100% as humans. But we can pick up on stuff.

There is some mistrust, just a smidge of it, between Raven and January, still. Phew.

Oh wow. I'm reading the part when she's figuring out that electrical diagram. That is crazy, that all of that seems to correlate to how this ancient Summoner works.



Didn't I say this a few episodes ago? Her perky voice will never really go away, especially for moments when she is more relaxed and "herself". But as life experiences began to set due to her dual identity, that voice won't get used as often. Poor girl. Seems her stomach must constantly be in knots.

Uh oh, this "someone" the chief speaks about sounds like Ryo actually.

.. . It was just a few miles from the Witch House, as the crow flied...

Nope, it's not Ryo. I like how she has to be so careful now that she's in this enclosed space. Everyone must be standing around gawking instead of getting out of her way!