Acadian: Looking back at January's ancestors, her most notable antecedent (besides Blood Raven and Nátthrafn of course) was Jack Parsons. He was a rocket scientist and wizard. But he did not have January's discipline and grit. Which is one reason that he killed himself trying to summon Natthrafn. So when Blood Raven said that her other descendants were naught but pale shadows compared to January, she was being completely honest. January is one of a kind.
I am not exactly sure what is going to shake out in regards to Hannah. She might indeed get her head on straight. She might never do so. Bigotry is a hard thing to shed. Some people grow beyond it. Many people never want to. In any event, Jan's relationship with her was simply an example of what happens when you only know someone for three days: You don't really know them at all.
Renee: I think I first heard of the Googol and Googolplex in Cosmos. Carl Sagan talks about them in one episode, about atoms and big, big numbers, like for the number of atoms in the universe.
Hannah does have dark hair. She is Chinese after all. But she does not have hair that length. So it is a piece of misdirection.
Everyone who tries to summon Nátthrafn dies. There is a trap built into the summoning. The Dark Lord does not share power after all. So when Julian started down this path, his own death was certain.
As I mentioned above, Hannah is one of those times where you meet someone and you think they are really cool. Until you finally start to get to know them. Then you see all the things you did not want to before. It is why you shouldn't rush into relationships with people you have only known a few days. And lets face it, January has more than her fair share of baggage was well.
Book 9.1 - Ashes
Ooh Burn Reaction Gif
Miggy is Miguel Cabrera
One of the lions at the Detroit Zoo was rescued from a trap house
As always, the site of the Tiger in the Trap House can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map
July 6th, late morning
"You know Gilda is in town right?" Avery's voice rose over the clacking of plastic keys. Clearly, he was busy working on his computer. January could easily imagine what on. The hunt for the Hierophant was going strong. At least everyone else's hunt was. As of yet she had done nothing, except stand at her mother's side for Julian's funeral.
"I know, she mentioned it in her broadcast yesterday." January murmured back into her phone. It felt strange, talking to him the old fashioned way. These days he was usually a voice in the ear of her helmet. But except for the team meeting the previous day at Green Island, she had not worn the Stormcrow suit in a week. Life without it was beginning to feel strange.
"So I don't think she's here to talk to me," Avery ventured. January knew his tone. It was his pointing out the obvious voice.
"I don't need to do another interview," January insisted. "One was enough, and that was with a real reporter."
"Ooh burn!" Avery laughed. "C'mon, cut Gilda some slack. You know back in the day she was a real investigative reporter. She found Whitey Bulger's secret vaults, and his sweet, sweet, list of bribes that took down the mayor and police chief of Boston. Besides, she did give you your super name after all. And she sure hasn't hurt your career any."
"I know, I know," January shook her head. "But let's face it, Gilda hasn't done any real journalism in decades."
"So what?" January could easily imagine her best friend shrugging in his basement. "A girl's got to eat after all, and being the Queen of Super Gossip puts the avocado toast on the table."
"I don't need to be talking, I need to be acting," January groused. "You know I got so bored at my grandma's that I taught myself to breathe underwater? I need to do more than stick my head in the bathtub."
"You got to talk to Blood Raven about that," Avery said. "She's-"
January leaped off her bed when the raucous croak of a corvid suddenly issued from the speaker of her phone. Her screen lit up, showing a call that had been forwarded from her official Stormcrow number. The caller ID said it was the Detroit PD.
January was in her Stormcrow armor a moment later. She tapped a button on Sága's interface, and picked up the call.
"Hi!" she blurted out in her perky phone voice. She slapped her free hand against her now armored forehead in frustration. She had thought she was over that. But it seemed that some things were easier to change than others, like becoming single again.
January glanced at the clock on the wall. She had gone an entire ten minutes without thinking about Hannah. It was a new record, something to be proud of.
"This is Stormcrow, how can I help?" she continued in a more somber tone. It was funny how thinking of Hannah storming off made that easy. She still was not sure if she had broken up with her, or if it had been the other way around.
"Thank God this number really worked..." she heard a deep voice mutter on the other end of the line. Then the man's speech rose in volume and took on a firm, confident demeanor. "This is Captain Robert Arnold of the Detroit Police. We have a situation, and could really use your help..."
"You have it."
January closed her eyes and reached out to the wards that defended the Witch House. They tasted her blood - well, actually her seven-times great-grandmother's - and answered her call. She turned to the bedroom window, and beckoned to it with one hand. The wire mesh and glass frame both swung open, as if from their own accord. She sprinted toward the window with eyes still shut, and leaped through the opening. Once free and in the sky outside she snapped out her wings and took flight. Behind her the screen and window clamped shut once more, and she let go of her connection with the wards. Finally, she opened her eyes once more and skimmed across the treetops that lined the Clinton River.
"Good," the captain said. "We raided a trap house today. But we ran into a big surprise."
"They had a meta?" January could already see where this was going. She turned south, toward the city of Detroit proper, and turned up the speed.
"No, there weren't any drug dealers in it at all. It seems they abandoned it," the captain explained.
"What is it, a ghost?" January's imagination began working. It could not be an Abyssal. The poppets that she and Blood Raven had placed throughout the metro area would have detected a summoning, especially one in Detroit. The city was at the center of their web after all.
"No, it's a tiger," Captain Arnold said. "And no, not like Miggy, this is a real one, with claws and fangs."
"A tiger in a drug house?" January had to admit, that had not been even one of her wildest guesses. As Blood Raven was wont to say, the world was indeed a stranger place than anyone imagined.
"That's the problem, it is not in the house anymore." the police captain said. "It's in the street. SWAT is on the way, but I really don't want to have to shoot this thing."
"You won't have to," January insisted. "Keep everyone away from it. I'll be there in no time at all."
The captain texted her the street address. It popped up on Sága's screen a moment later as a pin that glowed within a map of the city. Now she turned on even more speed. She willed herself forward, and poured her mana into her flight. She even fused her wings into her arms to gain every last ounce of power.
It only took a few minutes. But January begrudged every second that the streets and subdivisions crawled by underneath. She passed over Van Dyke and then Mound Road as she banked slightly to the west. The major mile roads counted down beneath her. 14 Mile Road put her at the border between Sterling Heights and Warren. 8 Mile put her past Warren and into Detroit proper. In no time at all she was across Outer Drive and then 7 Mile.
She realized that she had just passed by Global Titanium, maybe just a half mile to her left. That brought back memories of her second battle with Archie there. Once again, it felt strange to now have landmarks of her past super battles. But that was her life now.
Finally she was over a subdivision laid out in a rectangular grid. It was an old neighborhood, with small houses, small yards, and narrow driveways. Most of the homes were of red brick, but some were faced with siding. Only a handful of cars sat parked in the street or against the houses. It was not even noon yet, so January imagined most people were still at work.
She did not need to double check Sága for directions to the exact spot. The red and blue lights of police vehicles made her destination obvious. One entire street was blocked off at both ends by police cars and SUVs. Officers with pistols and shotguns manned them like barricades, weapons pointed down the street between them. January saw a massive armored vehicle pull up to one of these road blocks. A moment later a squad of heavily armed and armored troops boiled out of its rear. So apparently the SWAT team was now here as well.
A lone police car waited in a driveway at roughly the mid-point of street. The steel-barred front door of the house it sat in front of had been pried open, and now hung crookedly upon its hinges. January aimed for this spot, and feathered back her wings to slow down. But that was still not enough, so she pulled back up for a moment, and traded velocity for altitude. That was the last little bit she needed to bring herself into a stall. From there it was child's play to reorient her wings to lower herself gently to the earth.
She swiveled her head this way and that to take in the scene from the ground. The street was empty from end to end, like a ghost town. Nothing moved upon it. Not even a squirrel. She took a moment to wave to the police manning the road block at one end of the street.
The sound of a dog barking brought her head around. It was followed by a high-pitched screech. January instantly saw that the latter had been created by a woman who had stepped out of a cream and brown one story home nearby. Her dark brown skin was wrinkled with age, and a pair of sharply pointed glasses rested upon her nose. She had a pair of neatly folded up shirts draped over each of her shoulders, and led a little poodle on a bright pink leash. The woman spun around and groped for the handle of the door behind her. All the while her tiny dog continued to yap and snarl in a thin, high tone.
"Dammit, where did she come from!" the captain's voice rang out. "Take the shot!"
January did not think he was speaking to her. She leaped upward and deployed her wings once more. She was Air. She was sky. She was the wind. She rocketed down the street and dropped to the concrete steps below the tee-shirt carrying woman, who was still fighting to open the door behind her.
January was just in time for everyone. A blur of orange and black filled her vision. Fangs gleamed in the morning sun. Then the nearly ten foot long tiger was atop her. Its forepaws clamped down upon her shoulders, and its thick fangs snapped at her neck. The massive weight of the predator fell upon her, trying to crush her down to the ground.
January made no move to block the tiger's attacks. Instead she took the full bore of its assault. Its claws raked at her cubic boron nitride chest piece. Its fangs bore into the hagfish fibers that sheathed her neck. But the armor was superfluous. For January was Earth now. She was stone, she was the mountain, she was adamant.
Instead of fighting back, she wrapped her arms around the tiger's great frame and lifted its three hundred plus pound body up into the air. Then she spread her wings out and clamped them about its squirming frame as well, cocooning it in a blanket of ebon feathers.
The bark of a rifle reverberated through the air as all this took place, and a bullet whip-cracked past January's ear. It was a sharp sound that she had become all too accustomed to. The sniper's round crashed home against one of her wings, right where the tiger's head would have been had she not covered it. Thankfully her wings were just as invulnerable as the rest of her, and the high-powered round merely shattered against the black feathers.
"No shooting!" January cried. "I've got this."
She stepped down to the sidewalk, away from the woman on the porch. She continued toward the street with her charge, and took each step with caution so as not to lose her balance. The big cat was not pleased with any of this. It hissed and snarled at her between bites at her face and throat. It squirmed and strained against her. But January was inviolable. She knew how to take a hit after all.
January was careful not to squeeze too hard with her arms, lest she harm the tiger. Likewise, she insured that her wings created only a barrier to its movements, rather than cutting and slicing its limbs to pieces. She did not want to hurt it after all. It was just a wild animal, and it had as much right to live as anyone else.
"Ok," I need to put Tigris here somewhere," January breathed.
"I spoke to the Detroit Zoo on another line." Captain Arnold's voice was in her ear. "They have people on the way to tranq it. We just need to hang on to it until then."
"I am not sure how long I can do that," January noted. The tiger continued to fight against her grip. As anyone who had ever tried to hold a house cat against its will knew, it was a task easier said than done. This was a lot larger than a little tabby. January knew full well that if she had been an ordinary person, she would have long since been dead.
"How about that house with the front door that's down?" Gadget offered.
"That was the trap house," the Detroit police captain explained. "It's empty now. So that should be no problem, if you can keep it inside."
"I can keep it inside," January declared.
So she walked down the street to the house with the police car in its driveway. She spared a glance at the car, and the two cops within stared back in amazement. She was glad that they had stayed in the car. They could have just shot the tiger and been done with it. Hiding may not have been the macho thing to do. But by deescalating the situation, they had saved the big cat's life.
January climbed the concrete steps to the little porch in front of the red brick home. It had a security door of steel bars whose locking mechanism had been pried off. But the door itself still hung from its hinges, albeit crookedly. Behind that was the normal wooden front door, which now lay in several large pieces on ground.
She stepped through and over each, and was in the living room of the small, one story house a moment later. She could see a kitchen to one side, separated from the living space by a counter and hanging cabinets. An open door past the refrigerator revealed a set of stairs going down to a basement. At the far end of the living room there was a narrow hall that led farther back into the building, to where January imagined the bedrooms might be.
The interior was a prime example of modern squalor. The couch was ripped and stained. The carpet was a soiled and burned mess. Literal garbage was strewn everywhere. Old Burger Baron wrappers, empty bottles, glass pipes, bent spoons, discarded lighters, plastic bags, filthy toilet paper. You name it, it was there growing mold. Then there was the smell. It was a mixture of... well the truth was January could not describe it, other than to say that it was utterly revolting.
January hated the idea of putting the tiger back in this place. It was no wonder it was so angry! She would be frakked too if someone had held her in this house. Beyond the simple filth and decay, she could only imagine what the drug dealers had done to the animal. They were not the kind of people known for having warm and cuddly demeanors after all.
January tossed the big cat onto the remains of a couch. Again, she was careful not to throw the tiger hard enough to injure her. The time the massive feline spent twisting in the air in order to land on her feet was just enough for January to somersault back to the door. Once outside she immediately slammed the security door shut behind her.
With its lock broken off, there was no way she could latch it shut. So instead she leaned back against the steel door. She was just in time, as a moment later the full weight of the tiger came crashing against the vertical bars. But January was Earth once more. Mount Everest would move before she did.
She stood there for long moments as the tiger slammed at her, trying to get out. January's heart went out to the poor animal, and she hoped she was not injuring herself in the process. She had been able to feel the animal's ribs through her skin when she had grappled with her. Clearly, she was malnourished. But the fact was she could not let a tiger roam the streets either. At this point all January could do was wait things out.
Soon enough the big cat ceased its attempts to batter her way through the steel barrier. Instead it reached through the metal bars and clawed at January. But as before, its talons scratched her armor and flesh to no avail. In time it gave up, and slinked off back into the living room.
January slid down and sat on the porch, her back still firmly pressed against the security door. She closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the smell that wafted from the trap house. Instead she called up her magic and let it flow through her. She allowed it to slow her racing heart, ease her muscles, and loosen that tightness that gripped her stomach whenever she went into action.
She stretched out with her astral senses and felt back into the trap house. It was an effluvium of despair in the magical realm, a soiled imprint of addiction, greed, brutality, and hopelessness. January pushed beyond the astral pollution, and easily found the aura of the tiger. It bore the dull gray tones of a mundane. But these were more faded and thin than most. Whether that was from malnourishment, sickness, or abuse January was not expert enough to tell. Though she imagined someone like Blood Raven would know instantly.
At the same time she confirmed that the house was indeed empty. The only life that her astral senses detected were insects and a few mice. She breathed a sigh of relief. It would have been very embarrassing if a neighborhood kid had sneaked into the house while everyone had been busy outside.
Now all she had to do was wait.
Full Version: The Stormcrow
What better way to get glum Jan’s Stormcrow blood pumping again than a rescue call on the Crowphone! And a noble, worthwhile rescue it is. Glad that Captain Arnold took the extra steps to try to save the tiger, even though he had to give priority to protecting the neighborhood. Turns out, Stormcrow was the perfect resource for this task.
Nice job writing the fight. A tiger is no fire dragon from the depths of Oblivion, but it is still a stunningly capable and fearsome foe among ‘mortals’.
I hope things wind down smoothly once the zoo folks arrive and Tigris can be salvaged into a reasonable future.
I bet Gilda’s really gonna wanna talk to her now!
Nice job writing the fight. A tiger is no fire dragon from the depths of Oblivion, but it is still a stunningly capable and fearsome foe among ‘mortals’.
I hope things wind down smoothly once the zoo folks arrive and Tigris can be salvaged into a reasonable future.
I bet Gilda’s really gonna wanna talk to her now!
QUOTE
Everyone who tries to summon Nátthrafn dies. There is a trap built into the summoning. The Dark Lord does not share power after all. So when Julian started down this path, his own death was certain.
Wicked!
QUOTE
As I mentioned above, Hannah is one of those times where you meet someone and you think they are really cool. Until you finally start to get to know them. Then you see all the things you did not want to before. It is why you shouldn't rush into relationships with people you have only known a few days. And lets face it, January has more than her fair share of baggage was well.
The thing is, this is January's first attempt at a relationship, right? Well, the first one which she has seen a bit of success.
So all she can do really is to go for it. Rush right in. I don't blame her for that. It's what we all want, after all (those of us who are interested, anyway). 
Yeah I agree with January. No more interviews. Not now.
Too much has happened. Just Breathe, girl. Nice, her perky phone voice is back.
Whoa...the police is calling for her. Not 'cause she's in toruble, because they NEED her assistance. Oh cool, she's rescuing a carnivorous animal. Yikes. That is so true about trying to pick up housecats, my mom can't do it for instance. Every time she's ever tried, she winds up getting clawed or bitten! Anyway, good job, Stormcrow. Good job rescuing that animal. Heh, maybe she can train it somehow, and have it for a pet at the Witch House.
Only thing missing from this episode are the throngs of smartphone users, with their cameras running video footage.
Acadian: I have had the idea for January fighting a lion or tiger in my head for a long time. As one of the previous links showed, two of the Detroit Zoo's lions were rescues from similar situations. Obviously it is not something I can make the centerpiece of an entire chapter/mini-book. So I put it down in my list of possible side-quests that I can slide in somewhere. It is a nice way I can add some action and show January doing something useful for the community, but without it being a world-ending event.
January is about to discover that what Gilda wants, Gilda gets, no matter the best laid plans of crows and women.
Renee: Hannah was indeed January's first real girlfriend. The first that lasted beyond a first date at least.
I suspect that January's perky phone voice will be with her for a long, long time.
January won't be trying to keep the tiger. She could never afford to feed it! Let alone really care for it. But maybe someday she will adopt a nice basilisk or hippogriff...
Hold on to your butt, those smartphone users are about to arrive.
Gilda is inspired by Ricki Lake from the 90s
Dr Ann Duncan is inspired by RL Dr Amanda Duncan of the Detroit Zoo
Book 9.2 - Ashes
She felt the auras of the two police officers get out of the car in the driveway and approach, cautiously. Several more cops came up the street from either direction as well. The captain's voice issued from one of them.
"Let's get some people around the back, to make sure it doesn't come out that way, or through one of the windows."
"No need," January raised one hand to ward off the command. "I can sense her presence. If she tries to get out, I will stop her. Please keep your people back in the meantime. I think Tigris is hungry, and they may as well be walking Big Baron Burgers, if you get my drift. Let's not give her more reasons to want out."
"Ok, I see your meaning," Captain Arnold said. January felt their auras move back. Except for the top cop, who continued to speak. "Do you need a medic? That thing looked like it really laid into you."
"I'm fine," January said quite honestly. "I'm more worried about the tiger. I hope I didn't hurt her."
"You really are the Queen of Nice, like they say," the Captain replied.
"I try," January said, "and I fail. I'm not special."
She heard the captain snort, and felt a wave pass through his aura. Again, if she had been more skilled at reading the astral, she imagined that she would have been able to tell exactly what emotion that had been: humor, sarcasm, or disbelief. As it was she had no idea.
The beating of helicopter blades came to January's ears, and from more than one direction. But their authors were too far away for her to sense them in the astral. She felt the captain move back to rejoin his men, leaving January alone on the porch. Well, except for Tigris of course. She could still sense the big cat prowling through the back rooms of the house.
"The local news is there," Gadget said in her ear. "They've got you on TV right now."
January resisted the urge to wave. Instead she remained still and waited. As ever she meditated. She moved her power through her body. She practiced feeling in the astral. She became quiet in the presence of the divine. At least as much as anyone could be, given the smell of the trap house...
She sensed a commotion from down the street. There were raised voices, but too far away for her to make out the words. Then someone came running down the sidewalk. Their aura was plain and ordinary, but brightened from what January imagined might be excitement, or just simple exertion. This aura came right up to the steps at the bottom of the porch, and finally halted there.
"Oh, you are not going to believe who that is," Gadget practically laughed in her ear.
"Stormcrow!" a female voice cried out. "I'm so glad we could finally meet. If I had not known better, I would think you were avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you Gilda," January sighed. "I have just had... things to do. But you got here quick enough."
"She probably bribed the cops to tell her about any Stormcrow sightings..." Gadget murmured in her ear.
"Nothing can stop the news, and you are news honey," the super gossip reporter remarked. "In fact, I hear today was another rescue in the nick of time."
January finally opened her eyes. Before her stood Gilda Gadfly. The reporter was a large woman, with tanned skin and jet black hair. A pair of cat eye glasses sat upon her long, knife-straight nose, and her chin narrowed to an elfin point. Floating through the air behind her was a small, spherical device. A single camera lens pointed from its face, and a red light blinked beneath it. Another, identical remote leaped from her hand and circled around the two women, followed by a third.
January raised an eyebrow in Spockian incredulity.
"Oh don't mind them," Gilda waved a dismissive hand. "Those are my camera bots. I don't leave home without them. Now I heard there was a tiger..."
"Tigris?" January said nonchalantly. "She's looking at you through the living room window."
January did not turn her head. But she could indeed sense the big cat there, staring. Gilda took a step back out of reflex, then steadied herself once more.
"Tigris, now that is a good name," Gilda said. "You know there was once a cape in Iraq with that name. She had these big...
"But I digress," Gilda stopped herself. "I am here because of you, and Vortex. Is she here by chance? She has not been seen since the Battle of Gull Island. Nor have you. That's led some people to speculate that the two of you... Well that you might be getting to know one another better."
January felt an icicle tear through her stomach at the other woman's name. She had managed to forget about her for nearly twenty minutes this time. Now she was right back there on the shore of Green Island, hearing her level a torrent of racist slurs at Ôkami. It wasn't every day that your girlfriend did that to one of your oldest friends. As much as January wanted to put it from her mind, it had its own way of worming back into her awareness.
"No," January said simply. "We've been doing... other things."
"Like seeking out the Hierophant no doubt," Gilda followed. "Are you hunting him together perhaps? We all saw you two on the coast guard cutter. I mean, you had just thrown up, but she still kissed you. Wow, did she kiss you. And before that was that wedding you two crashed at the gazebo. You two are fire, as you kids call it today. The world wants to know about it."
Of course, she did not want to talk about the innocent man who had been murdered that day. Nor even about her brother, the supervillain who helped, even if he had not done the deed personally. No, Gilda wanted to talk about her lesbian kiss on national TV. That made perfect sense.
January tried not to betray the antipathy that bubbled up inside her. She reminded herself to be nice. This was not the time to not be, especially given all the cameras upon them. Instead she drew her inspiration from Earth. She was stone: impassive, immovable, uncaring. She let that calmness guide her when she spoke again.
"I am afraid things have been blown out of proportion," January explained. "Vortex and I... we shared a moment, that's all."
"That was some moment," Gilda declared. "Will there be more moments perhaps? You two kids practically broke the internet. We'd all love to see this go further. You two are a real inspiration for people. You are the first cape to ever come out as being trans. Now you two are the first ever lesbian super couple. You are trailblazers."
"It's not like that," January said again. She could not believe that this was the conversation she was having. Well, she could believe it. This was the age of Instantgram and MeTube, when everyone tried to throw every aspect of their lives in front of the eyes of everyone else. After it had been carefully sanitized and manicured and dressed up to make them look perfect of course. Well, here was some imperfection.
"We aren't a couple," she said plainly. "She is doing her own thing. I am doing mine. That is all."
Part of her also wanted to point out that Hannah was bisexual, not a lesbian. She was keenly aware that bi-erasure was just as real as every other form of queer erasure. But she held her tongue under the circumstances. For one it wasn't her place to speak for Hannah about her sexuality. For another, she was afraid that once she got going, she might say more than she intended.
Gilda gasped audibly, perhaps overly so. The sound matched the overly-exaggerated look of shock on her face. She might as well have been a 90s tabloid talk show host exoticizing a gay or trans person on afternoon TV, or telling a woman that their former boyfriend was not in fact the father of their child. That was of course, pretty much the kind of reporter that Gilda was after all.
"You broke up!" Gilda cried. "Oh no! What happened?"
"That's not something I can go into," January replied stonily.
As if to underscore her words, the sky rumbled a threat overhead. The sun had vanished, and the once blue firmament was now dark with clouds.
"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that dear, so sorry." Gilda said. She reached out as if to pat January on the shoulder. But she backed up a moment later. January felt hot breath wash upon her neck, and was suddenly aware that Tigris had moved. The tiger now lurked directly behind her, just inches behind the steel bars of the security door. A low, trilling growl rumbled from the predator's throat, as it to give voice to January's own feelings at the moment.
"Well at least you have Tigris here," Gilda recovered with grace that an Olympic gymnast would envy. "Are you going to adopt her? Will the Crow and the Tiger be Detroit's newest caped duo?"
"Oh no," January almost laughed. "I can't take care of a big cat! Maybe a nice wolf someday, we corvids get along well with them. The zoo is coming for Tigris. They can give her what she needs."
Gilda went on, and finally asked her about Gull Island and the campaign against the Hierophant. January was relieved. Anything was better than talking about Hannah. When the people from the zoo did arrive in a truck, she wanted to leap with joy. At that point she would have been glad to see a djieien, anything to save her from the gossip reporter. Being perfect and smiling for the public was so much harder than fighting an angry tiger.
Four people spilled from a straight truck. They were dressed in a variety of business casual button downs and polo shirts in neutral shades, along with various khakis and shorts. A middle-aged woman with fair skin and long brown hair quickly took the lead. She wore a long-sleeved purple top and khaki pants, and an ID badge hung from her neck. Trailing close behind her was man of roughly the same age, with pasty white skin that glistened with droplets of sweat. He had the bushiest mustache January had ever seen, and a bald scalp that glistened under the summer sun. He carried a dart gun in his hands, the barrel pointed safely down toward the ground.
Two more people trailed behind. One was a young woman with freckles and a brilliant red shock of wild curly hair. She could have easily been mistaken for a Scottish Disney princess, if only she had carried a bow and arrows. The other was an equally young black man, wearing glasses and carrying a clipboard.
January pushed her way to her feet, careful to keep her back against the door at all times. She could feel Tigris growing agitated behind her. She did not want to give the tiger any opportunities to turn things tragic, for anyone. But rather than attempt to get out at the newcomers, January sensed the big cat drift deeper into the house.
"Good Morning, I'm Dr. Amanda Duncan," the first woman declared as the group came up to the steps. She turned to indicate Mr. Mustache, and the others behind him. "These are my coworkers, Barry Robateau, Tara Fitzgerald, and Jason Watkins."
Gilda made way for them. But she did remain near enough to film the entire thing. The police came up now too, and formed a cordon around the front of the house.
"I hear you have a tiger for us?" Barry said.
"Tigris," January said. "She's inside. I think all the people might have scared her. She doesn't look very healthy. I think she needs food and water."
"I promise we'll take good care of her," Dr. Duncan insisted. "I'm the chief veterinarian at the zoo. The other keepers and I have plenty of experience with big cats."
"Just get me a clear line of sight," Barry insisted. He patted his dart gun for emphasis.
"We're going to have to go inside." January said. She turned to face the security door. She pushed its bent frame open, and stepped within. She could feel the auras of everyone behind her, as well as that of Tigris, who was now at the far end of the home. January walked slowly inside, and moved to the hallway that led to the bedrooms in the back of the house. That would not give the tiger the opportunity to get past her and at the zookeepers.
Barry came in behind her, along with the others. She heard them curse, and cough, at the sights and smells within the crack house. It wasn't pretty after all. January could not imagine how a creature with an advanced sense of smell like a cat could have stood living in such a place.
January came to a bedroom with an open door and stopped. She noted one of Gilda's drones floating in the air above the zookeepers, recording everything. She wondered if she was being live streamed by the gossip reporter, and had to resist the urge to shake her head.
"She's right inside," January declared. "This is going to be tricky. She might charge, and to give you a good shot, I'll have to step out of the doorway."
"I don't like this."Barry shook his head. "Let's go back. I might be able to get a clean shot from one of the windows."
January nodded, thinking that might be for the best, until she realized the obvious.
"Why don't you hand me one of those darts?" She extended one hand back over her shoulder. "I'll take care of it."
"Are you sure?" Dr. Duncan asked.
"Are you kidding?" January almost laughed. "After that Abyssal last week, this is like playing with a kitten."
"A three hundred pound murder kitten..." one of the young zookeepers murmured.
January did laugh at that. She waited, and a moment later Barry handed her one of his tranquilizer darts.
January took a moment to breathe, and center herself magically. She lowered her astral awareness so that she would not be distracted by too much information. Then she stepped into the room. Like the rest of the house, it was a disaster. A stained mattress lay on the floor, surrounded by pipes, ashtrays, and pure garbage.
Tigris growled at her, clearly agitated by her nearness. January moved in, careful to keep herself directly between the big cat and the doorway at all times. The tiger swatted at her head. January became Water, and flowed out of the way of a blow that would have torn a normal human's face off. That left the tiger wide open, and she instantly followed by jabbing the dart into her hip.
After that January moved in close, and wrapped up the big cat in her arms once more. Again she clutched her in a firm grip, but not so strong as to harm the massive carnivore. Soon enough Tigris went still, and January lifted her completely from her feet. She turned back to the door, and found the zookeepers staring in amazement. As if they did not see people wrestle big cats every day. Gilda's drone was already in the room with her of course, recording everything with its impassive lens.
The zookeepers led the way back outside. January was relieved to get back out under the clear blue sky and into the fresh air once more. Once on the lawn, she discovered that a crowd of people from the neighborhood had gathered behind a cordon of police. January even noted the woman whom she had saved earlier, there with her poodle. She smiled at the woman, who still carried her tee shirts on her shoulders. A cheer rose up, and cameras flashed.
Dr. Duncan removed the tranq dart from the tiger's hide. Then January followed her and the others to the back of the straight truck. Strapped down in the cargo bay inside was a large moving container. It reminded January of an oversized pet carrier. It had a steel barred door, its hull was lined with air holes, and the interior even sported built in bowls for food and water.
January leaped up into the truck, and gently slid the tiger inside the big cat carrier. Then she stood back while the others clambered in behind her and secured the carrier's steel door.
"We use this for long transports." Dr. Duncan explained. "We'll take her from here."
"I'd like to go with you," January interjected. "I feel like I owe it to Tigris, to be with her the entire way."
"Wow, well, of course!" the veterinarian beamed. "We'd be glad to have you. We don't get superheroes at the zoo that often."
"Maybe oftener than you think," January murmured under her breath.
She turned and waved for the cameras outside. Then Barry hopped out of the truck, and pulled down its roll-up door with a clatter of metal on metal. The doctor and other two zookeepers remained inside with January, and they all slid down to the floor when the truck lurched into motion a minute later.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally clanked shut, and eased back against one bare wall of the truck's interior box compartment.
"Glad to escape the press?" the veterinarian wondered aloud.
"No, Gilda's a nice person," January shook her head. "She's been good to me. It's just hard... being in front of the cameras all the time. I'm always afraid that something I say will come out wrong, or be misconstrued, or deliberately misquoted. I want to help people, not make it worse for them by tripping over my tongue."
January turned to the young man Dr. Duncan had introduced as Jason. He had his phone held up and was clearly recording everything she said.
"Feel free to post that online too," she said. "I'm as human as anyone else. I'm not perfect."
January is about to discover that what Gilda wants, Gilda gets, no matter the best laid plans of crows and women.
Renee: Hannah was indeed January's first real girlfriend. The first that lasted beyond a first date at least.
I suspect that January's perky phone voice will be with her for a long, long time.
January won't be trying to keep the tiger. She could never afford to feed it! Let alone really care for it. But maybe someday she will adopt a nice basilisk or hippogriff...
Hold on to your butt, those smartphone users are about to arrive.
Gilda is inspired by Ricki Lake from the 90s
Dr Ann Duncan is inspired by RL Dr Amanda Duncan of the Detroit Zoo
Book 9.2 - Ashes
She felt the auras of the two police officers get out of the car in the driveway and approach, cautiously. Several more cops came up the street from either direction as well. The captain's voice issued from one of them.
"Let's get some people around the back, to make sure it doesn't come out that way, or through one of the windows."
"No need," January raised one hand to ward off the command. "I can sense her presence. If she tries to get out, I will stop her. Please keep your people back in the meantime. I think Tigris is hungry, and they may as well be walking Big Baron Burgers, if you get my drift. Let's not give her more reasons to want out."
"Ok, I see your meaning," Captain Arnold said. January felt their auras move back. Except for the top cop, who continued to speak. "Do you need a medic? That thing looked like it really laid into you."
"I'm fine," January said quite honestly. "I'm more worried about the tiger. I hope I didn't hurt her."
"You really are the Queen of Nice, like they say," the Captain replied.
"I try," January said, "and I fail. I'm not special."
She heard the captain snort, and felt a wave pass through his aura. Again, if she had been more skilled at reading the astral, she imagined that she would have been able to tell exactly what emotion that had been: humor, sarcasm, or disbelief. As it was she had no idea.
The beating of helicopter blades came to January's ears, and from more than one direction. But their authors were too far away for her to sense them in the astral. She felt the captain move back to rejoin his men, leaving January alone on the porch. Well, except for Tigris of course. She could still sense the big cat prowling through the back rooms of the house.
"The local news is there," Gadget said in her ear. "They've got you on TV right now."
January resisted the urge to wave. Instead she remained still and waited. As ever she meditated. She moved her power through her body. She practiced feeling in the astral. She became quiet in the presence of the divine. At least as much as anyone could be, given the smell of the trap house...
She sensed a commotion from down the street. There were raised voices, but too far away for her to make out the words. Then someone came running down the sidewalk. Their aura was plain and ordinary, but brightened from what January imagined might be excitement, or just simple exertion. This aura came right up to the steps at the bottom of the porch, and finally halted there.
"Oh, you are not going to believe who that is," Gadget practically laughed in her ear.
"Stormcrow!" a female voice cried out. "I'm so glad we could finally meet. If I had not known better, I would think you were avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you Gilda," January sighed. "I have just had... things to do. But you got here quick enough."
"She probably bribed the cops to tell her about any Stormcrow sightings..." Gadget murmured in her ear.
"Nothing can stop the news, and you are news honey," the super gossip reporter remarked. "In fact, I hear today was another rescue in the nick of time."
January finally opened her eyes. Before her stood Gilda Gadfly. The reporter was a large woman, with tanned skin and jet black hair. A pair of cat eye glasses sat upon her long, knife-straight nose, and her chin narrowed to an elfin point. Floating through the air behind her was a small, spherical device. A single camera lens pointed from its face, and a red light blinked beneath it. Another, identical remote leaped from her hand and circled around the two women, followed by a third.
January raised an eyebrow in Spockian incredulity.
"Oh don't mind them," Gilda waved a dismissive hand. "Those are my camera bots. I don't leave home without them. Now I heard there was a tiger..."
"Tigris?" January said nonchalantly. "She's looking at you through the living room window."
January did not turn her head. But she could indeed sense the big cat there, staring. Gilda took a step back out of reflex, then steadied herself once more.
"Tigris, now that is a good name," Gilda said. "You know there was once a cape in Iraq with that name. She had these big...
"But I digress," Gilda stopped herself. "I am here because of you, and Vortex. Is she here by chance? She has not been seen since the Battle of Gull Island. Nor have you. That's led some people to speculate that the two of you... Well that you might be getting to know one another better."
January felt an icicle tear through her stomach at the other woman's name. She had managed to forget about her for nearly twenty minutes this time. Now she was right back there on the shore of Green Island, hearing her level a torrent of racist slurs at Ôkami. It wasn't every day that your girlfriend did that to one of your oldest friends. As much as January wanted to put it from her mind, it had its own way of worming back into her awareness.
"No," January said simply. "We've been doing... other things."
"Like seeking out the Hierophant no doubt," Gilda followed. "Are you hunting him together perhaps? We all saw you two on the coast guard cutter. I mean, you had just thrown up, but she still kissed you. Wow, did she kiss you. And before that was that wedding you two crashed at the gazebo. You two are fire, as you kids call it today. The world wants to know about it."
Of course, she did not want to talk about the innocent man who had been murdered that day. Nor even about her brother, the supervillain who helped, even if he had not done the deed personally. No, Gilda wanted to talk about her lesbian kiss on national TV. That made perfect sense.
January tried not to betray the antipathy that bubbled up inside her. She reminded herself to be nice. This was not the time to not be, especially given all the cameras upon them. Instead she drew her inspiration from Earth. She was stone: impassive, immovable, uncaring. She let that calmness guide her when she spoke again.
"I am afraid things have been blown out of proportion," January explained. "Vortex and I... we shared a moment, that's all."
"That was some moment," Gilda declared. "Will there be more moments perhaps? You two kids practically broke the internet. We'd all love to see this go further. You two are a real inspiration for people. You are the first cape to ever come out as being trans. Now you two are the first ever lesbian super couple. You are trailblazers."
"It's not like that," January said again. She could not believe that this was the conversation she was having. Well, she could believe it. This was the age of Instantgram and MeTube, when everyone tried to throw every aspect of their lives in front of the eyes of everyone else. After it had been carefully sanitized and manicured and dressed up to make them look perfect of course. Well, here was some imperfection.
"We aren't a couple," she said plainly. "She is doing her own thing. I am doing mine. That is all."
Part of her also wanted to point out that Hannah was bisexual, not a lesbian. She was keenly aware that bi-erasure was just as real as every other form of queer erasure. But she held her tongue under the circumstances. For one it wasn't her place to speak for Hannah about her sexuality. For another, she was afraid that once she got going, she might say more than she intended.
Gilda gasped audibly, perhaps overly so. The sound matched the overly-exaggerated look of shock on her face. She might as well have been a 90s tabloid talk show host exoticizing a gay or trans person on afternoon TV, or telling a woman that their former boyfriend was not in fact the father of their child. That was of course, pretty much the kind of reporter that Gilda was after all.
"You broke up!" Gilda cried. "Oh no! What happened?"
"That's not something I can go into," January replied stonily.
As if to underscore her words, the sky rumbled a threat overhead. The sun had vanished, and the once blue firmament was now dark with clouds.
"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that dear, so sorry." Gilda said. She reached out as if to pat January on the shoulder. But she backed up a moment later. January felt hot breath wash upon her neck, and was suddenly aware that Tigris had moved. The tiger now lurked directly behind her, just inches behind the steel bars of the security door. A low, trilling growl rumbled from the predator's throat, as it to give voice to January's own feelings at the moment.
"Well at least you have Tigris here," Gilda recovered with grace that an Olympic gymnast would envy. "Are you going to adopt her? Will the Crow and the Tiger be Detroit's newest caped duo?"
"Oh no," January almost laughed. "I can't take care of a big cat! Maybe a nice wolf someday, we corvids get along well with them. The zoo is coming for Tigris. They can give her what she needs."
Gilda went on, and finally asked her about Gull Island and the campaign against the Hierophant. January was relieved. Anything was better than talking about Hannah. When the people from the zoo did arrive in a truck, she wanted to leap with joy. At that point she would have been glad to see a djieien, anything to save her from the gossip reporter. Being perfect and smiling for the public was so much harder than fighting an angry tiger.
Four people spilled from a straight truck. They were dressed in a variety of business casual button downs and polo shirts in neutral shades, along with various khakis and shorts. A middle-aged woman with fair skin and long brown hair quickly took the lead. She wore a long-sleeved purple top and khaki pants, and an ID badge hung from her neck. Trailing close behind her was man of roughly the same age, with pasty white skin that glistened with droplets of sweat. He had the bushiest mustache January had ever seen, and a bald scalp that glistened under the summer sun. He carried a dart gun in his hands, the barrel pointed safely down toward the ground.
Two more people trailed behind. One was a young woman with freckles and a brilliant red shock of wild curly hair. She could have easily been mistaken for a Scottish Disney princess, if only she had carried a bow and arrows. The other was an equally young black man, wearing glasses and carrying a clipboard.
January pushed her way to her feet, careful to keep her back against the door at all times. She could feel Tigris growing agitated behind her. She did not want to give the tiger any opportunities to turn things tragic, for anyone. But rather than attempt to get out at the newcomers, January sensed the big cat drift deeper into the house.
"Good Morning, I'm Dr. Amanda Duncan," the first woman declared as the group came up to the steps. She turned to indicate Mr. Mustache, and the others behind him. "These are my coworkers, Barry Robateau, Tara Fitzgerald, and Jason Watkins."
Gilda made way for them. But she did remain near enough to film the entire thing. The police came up now too, and formed a cordon around the front of the house.
"I hear you have a tiger for us?" Barry said.
"Tigris," January said. "She's inside. I think all the people might have scared her. She doesn't look very healthy. I think she needs food and water."
"I promise we'll take good care of her," Dr. Duncan insisted. "I'm the chief veterinarian at the zoo. The other keepers and I have plenty of experience with big cats."
"Just get me a clear line of sight," Barry insisted. He patted his dart gun for emphasis.
"We're going to have to go inside." January said. She turned to face the security door. She pushed its bent frame open, and stepped within. She could feel the auras of everyone behind her, as well as that of Tigris, who was now at the far end of the home. January walked slowly inside, and moved to the hallway that led to the bedrooms in the back of the house. That would not give the tiger the opportunity to get past her and at the zookeepers.
Barry came in behind her, along with the others. She heard them curse, and cough, at the sights and smells within the crack house. It wasn't pretty after all. January could not imagine how a creature with an advanced sense of smell like a cat could have stood living in such a place.
January came to a bedroom with an open door and stopped. She noted one of Gilda's drones floating in the air above the zookeepers, recording everything. She wondered if she was being live streamed by the gossip reporter, and had to resist the urge to shake her head.
"She's right inside," January declared. "This is going to be tricky. She might charge, and to give you a good shot, I'll have to step out of the doorway."
"I don't like this."Barry shook his head. "Let's go back. I might be able to get a clean shot from one of the windows."
January nodded, thinking that might be for the best, until she realized the obvious.
"Why don't you hand me one of those darts?" She extended one hand back over her shoulder. "I'll take care of it."
"Are you sure?" Dr. Duncan asked.
"Are you kidding?" January almost laughed. "After that Abyssal last week, this is like playing with a kitten."
"A three hundred pound murder kitten..." one of the young zookeepers murmured.
January did laugh at that. She waited, and a moment later Barry handed her one of his tranquilizer darts.
January took a moment to breathe, and center herself magically. She lowered her astral awareness so that she would not be distracted by too much information. Then she stepped into the room. Like the rest of the house, it was a disaster. A stained mattress lay on the floor, surrounded by pipes, ashtrays, and pure garbage.
Tigris growled at her, clearly agitated by her nearness. January moved in, careful to keep herself directly between the big cat and the doorway at all times. The tiger swatted at her head. January became Water, and flowed out of the way of a blow that would have torn a normal human's face off. That left the tiger wide open, and she instantly followed by jabbing the dart into her hip.
After that January moved in close, and wrapped up the big cat in her arms once more. Again she clutched her in a firm grip, but not so strong as to harm the massive carnivore. Soon enough Tigris went still, and January lifted her completely from her feet. She turned back to the door, and found the zookeepers staring in amazement. As if they did not see people wrestle big cats every day. Gilda's drone was already in the room with her of course, recording everything with its impassive lens.
The zookeepers led the way back outside. January was relieved to get back out under the clear blue sky and into the fresh air once more. Once on the lawn, she discovered that a crowd of people from the neighborhood had gathered behind a cordon of police. January even noted the woman whom she had saved earlier, there with her poodle. She smiled at the woman, who still carried her tee shirts on her shoulders. A cheer rose up, and cameras flashed.
Dr. Duncan removed the tranq dart from the tiger's hide. Then January followed her and the others to the back of the straight truck. Strapped down in the cargo bay inside was a large moving container. It reminded January of an oversized pet carrier. It had a steel barred door, its hull was lined with air holes, and the interior even sported built in bowls for food and water.
January leaped up into the truck, and gently slid the tiger inside the big cat carrier. Then she stood back while the others clambered in behind her and secured the carrier's steel door.
"We use this for long transports." Dr. Duncan explained. "We'll take her from here."
"I'd like to go with you," January interjected. "I feel like I owe it to Tigris, to be with her the entire way."
"Wow, well, of course!" the veterinarian beamed. "We'd be glad to have you. We don't get superheroes at the zoo that often."
"Maybe oftener than you think," January murmured under her breath.
She turned and waved for the cameras outside. Then Barry hopped out of the truck, and pulled down its roll-up door with a clatter of metal on metal. The doctor and other two zookeepers remained inside with January, and they all slid down to the floor when the truck lurched into motion a minute later.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally clanked shut, and eased back against one bare wall of the truck's interior box compartment.
"Glad to escape the press?" the veterinarian wondered aloud.
"No, Gilda's a nice person," January shook her head. "She's been good to me. It's just hard... being in front of the cameras all the time. I'm always afraid that something I say will come out wrong, or be misconstrued, or deliberately misquoted. I want to help people, not make it worse for them by tripping over my tongue."
January turned to the young man Dr. Duncan had introduced as Jason. He had his phone held up and was clearly recording everything she said.
"Feel free to post that online too," she said. "I'm as human as anyone else. I'm not perfect."
A very nice followup after the Stormcrow’s murder kitty wrestling in the previous episode.
Gilda found her! And of course the queen of gossip wants to talk about Vortex. Jan did a great job of being honest without revealing much. It was very January for her to take steps to preserve Hannah/Vortex’s privacy and not try to speak for her. I loved how she finally shut Gilda down with her stony response, punctuated by the appropriate storm clouds.
Brilliant for Stormcrow to offer to tranquilize Tigris herself – and clearly the safest way to go.
Gilda found her! And of course the queen of gossip wants to talk about Vortex. Jan did a great job of being honest without revealing much. It was very January for her to take steps to preserve Hannah/Vortex’s privacy and not try to speak for her. I loved how she finally shut Gilda down with her stony response, punctuated by the appropriate storm clouds.
Brilliant for Stormcrow to offer to tranquilize Tigris herself – and clearly the safest way to go.
Yes! I can see Gilda Gladfly being inspired by Ricki Lake. Earlier on, I was thinking of that Youtuber chick. I forget her name now. That really hyper, annoying one. Ricki Lake though, that's Gilda. Ricki's boastful, scandal-ridden voice fits, totally.
Oh nice, Gilda is on the scene. Finally catches up to the Stormcrow.
Yes, I imagine at all the other crime scenes so far, it'd be impossible for Gilda to get near, even if she had the opportunity. Because who wants to get too close to a giant demon-spider? Or a group of nasty kraquen?
Gilda calls her "Honey".
Camera bots??
Hmm, it seems Gilda does not know about Jan's brother being involved. Otherwise she'd bring that up, instead of Hannah not being present. Wow... Ricki Gadfly will not let this go.
Instantgram... MeTube ...
Wow, Doctor Duncan is videoing her at the end as she's having a moment. What the heck. Is there no shame, in the social media world? Sheesh.
Oh nice, Gilda is on the scene. Finally catches up to the Stormcrow.
Yes, I imagine at all the other crime scenes so far, it'd be impossible for Gilda to get near, even if she had the opportunity. Because who wants to get too close to a giant demon-spider? Or a group of nasty kraquen? Gilda calls her "Honey".
Camera bots?? Hmm, it seems Gilda does not know about Jan's brother being involved. Otherwise she'd bring that up, instead of Hannah not being present. Wow... Ricki Gadfly will not let this go.
Instantgram... MeTube ...
Wow, Doctor Duncan is videoing her at the end as she's having a moment. What the heck. Is there no shame, in the social media world? Sheesh.
I've been reading the first book over the past few days, and it's good! I'm actually not the biggest superhero person, but you address a lot of the things that tend to bother me about the genre. Things like how, yes, property damage can still be pretty devastating to people so it's probably best for heroes to make an effort to avoid that.
Plus, January's adventures feel more grounded. She's dealing with a lot of RL stuff, in the best Marvel tradition. All the local detail helps out a lot. I'm not at all familiar with the Detroit metro area (all I've really seen is the airport), but the close focus on names and the feel of the place add a lot.
Though part of me does wish I could tell January that even published writers usually have to keep day jobs. Sure you get the occasional Stephen King or John Grisham, but they're the exception, not the rule.
Plus, January's adventures feel more grounded. She's dealing with a lot of RL stuff, in the best Marvel tradition. All the local detail helps out a lot. I'm not at all familiar with the Detroit metro area (all I've really seen is the airport), but the close focus on names and the feel of the place add a lot.
Though part of me does wish I could tell January that even published writers usually have to keep day jobs. Sure you get the occasional Stephen King or John Grisham, but they're the exception, not the rule.
I have finished the second book.
Stormcrow Recycled is an apt title, both for how it deals with her own constant reinvention and the nature of the antagonist.
Speaking of which, I really liked how Isaac was handled. You see the big fights so often that sometimes it's preferable to just have the characters talk it out. January's speech skill is probably higher than she thinks. Regardless, she was able to draw on a common well of empathy to connect with Isaac.
Isaac and Avery would likely be pretty formidable when/if they pool their resources.
Speaking of Avery, him acting as support during missions is actually a really good idea. Something that might be good standard practice for metas, provided they can find someone. It's easy to get mixed up when so much is going on (like January did with the diesel/gas confusion), so it's always good to have another person who has the advantage of perspective.
Perspective of course, being a real problem with January's dad. I think most of us have, at some point, overheard a parental conversation about us that we weren't supposed to--but the nature of this one made it hit especially hard. It emphasizes how important it is for people to have support, and how devastating it can be when someone who should provide it instead withdraws it.
Stormcrow Recycled is an apt title, both for how it deals with her own constant reinvention and the nature of the antagonist.
Speaking of which, I really liked how Isaac was handled. You see the big fights so often that sometimes it's preferable to just have the characters talk it out. January's speech skill is probably higher than she thinks. Regardless, she was able to draw on a common well of empathy to connect with Isaac.
Isaac and Avery would likely be pretty formidable when/if they pool their resources.
Speaking of Avery, him acting as support during missions is actually a really good idea. Something that might be good standard practice for metas, provided they can find someone. It's easy to get mixed up when so much is going on (like January did with the diesel/gas confusion), so it's always good to have another person who has the advantage of perspective.
Perspective of course, being a real problem with January's dad. I think most of us have, at some point, overheard a parental conversation about us that we weren't supposed to--but the nature of this one made it hit especially hard. It emphasizes how important it is for people to have support, and how devastating it can be when someone who should provide it instead withdraws it.
Acadian: It was nice to finally get Gilda "on screen" as it were, given how often we have had little clips of her. Of course all she wants are the juicy gossip bits.
I spent a while working out the logistics of darting Tigris. Eventually I facepalmed, and realized that January could just do it herself by hand. It was by far the safest option for everyone.
Renee: I never watched the Ricki Lake show. But I do remember her from China Beach. I loved her in that. That is why I decided to use her as the inspiration for Gilda.
Gilda is not normally in Detroit at all. She's a big star at Worldwide Network News. So I would figure she lives in New York City, or wherever WNN has its headquarters. I never really thought of where it would be.
Everyone knows that the Summoner was Julian Ward. That was national news. It is why there were reporters all over January and her mom afterward. Gilda just doesn't care about that. That's not what drives clicks. Teen lesbian romance does.
That was not Dr. Duncan recording January at the end, it was one of the young zookeepers.
WellTemperedClavier: I walk a bit of a line with the property damage. On one hand I don't want to equate property as being worth the same or more than people's lives. But as someone who is not rich, I had to work hard for what I have, and losing it all in an instant is crushing. I had a Year of Four Cars. Yes, I went through four of them, and it sent me deep into debt. It took years to dig myself out of that. Like a lot of people, back then I could not afford collision or theft insurance, just the basic liability. So when one got stolen, and another got crunched in the middle of a three car accident, I got nothing from the insurance. I lost two others because of mechanical failures (engine seized, etc...), and had to junk them.
I always think of that when I am writing. Because January is not rich, she thinks of it too. She does not want to take away someone's livelihood just to show off by throwing a car at a supervillain. In Detroit, you need a car to have a job, and you need a job to have a car. There is no real public transportation aside from buses, which are just horrible. So it would be very easy for her to carelessly ruin someone's life.
I chose Detroit as the setting because I live here, and I know the place like the back of my hand. I could try to set it somewhere else, but the trouble is, I just don't know the character or nature of those places. I don't know the neighborhoods, or the attitudes. Plus, you rarely ever see the D as a setting. I do go to the trouble of being specific about place names and streets and describing the skyline. I want the city itself to be a character. So it feels real to people from out of town, and not just generic Superville.
Recycled was inspired very loosely by the early issues of the Ms. Marvel comic with Kamala Khan. In it she took on a supervillain whose lair was in a junkyard, and who used junkbots and a junkmech. So I started from there, and took a detour into Fred Sanford zone. I wanted the junk menace. But I wanted a villain who was not really that villainous. I also wanted an ending that did not involve a big punch, but rather empathy. I wanted to show that January is the kind of person who would rather help people than hit them, or put them in jail.
Isaac will appear several more times in the future (and yes, he will get his Mecha!). So too will Lighthammer. Most of the people January encounters will become part of her orbit, and will come together for the big finale to Season One in Book 10 (which I am currently working on). A lot of them will come together before then too. With Avery with her from the start, January is not a lone wolf. She cannot do it all on her own, and she embraces that. Bringing people together for common purpose is perhaps her greatest superpower.
Jan's dad (and brother), being so toxic were writing choices I made because all too often this is the case in people's lives. Not just Queer people's lives. Everybody's lives. I wanted to show that she has to deal with issues in her life, the same as anyone else. Hence the reason she attempted suicide when she was a child.
Book 9.3 - Ashes
July 6th, late morning
Blood Raven was in disguise. Well, she was not in her armor at least. Instead she wore a simple top and skirt. A pair of glasses balanced above her nose, and her auburn hair was tied back in a bun. She appeared entirely ordinary, and entirely professional. Just like any of the other myriad of reporters who had descended upon Detroit in the wake of the Summoner's death.
"Rebecca, tell me what happened on the night of May 25th."
Blood Raven entwined her words with aion. They were not a question, but a demand. They wove their way through the aura of the young woman who sat across from her, and lodged within her brain. There her power did not wake sleeping memories, but rather bridged the gap in time between the present and the creation of said remembrances. Now and then were now bound together with her words and magic. At the same time her subject's conscious awareness ebbed away like a ship receding into the night. She became an automata reciting everything she saw and heard in the past.
"Julian took me to a party on campus," the red-haired student said in a dull monotone. The college student's eyes were as empty and devoid of intensity as her speech. "I was excited. I wore my new red miniskirt. I wanted that night to be special. I wanted it to be the first time we had sex. It was, but not in the way I hoped."
"How is that?" Blood Raven probed.
"I barely drank from my cup of beer, but I got really, really trashed," Rebecca explained. "It was hard to walk, especially in my heels. Then I got really sleepy. He took me to a bedroom. I woke up hours later, and he was there, looking all smug."
"Do you remember what happened in between?" Blood Raven asked.
"I don't know," Rebecca answered. "It is all... blank. But I can guess. He roofied me, and he raped me. That is why I never talked to him since."
It took every ounce of Blood Raven's self-composure to contain the scowl that wanted to form upon her features. But centuries of working as both a teacher and as a nurse had taught her to insure that her inner feelings did not disturb her external appearance. She pressed Rebecca for details about the time when they arrived at the party, and when she later woke.
"That confirms it," Cray's mellow tones sounded in her ear. "It was plenty of time for him to teleport downtown and summon the buggane, then teleport back to the party."
Blood Raven called up her aion once more, and wrapped it about herself in a cloak. When she pulled it away, she was once more clad in her armor. Her hair returned to a mane of scarlet, and waved gently in a breeze that was not present in the tiny dorm room.
Finally, she allowed her spell to drop from the mind of the young woman before her. Rebecca's eyes swam back into focus, and she looked around her quizzically for a moment. Clearly, she was trying, and failing, to remember what had just occurred. Finally she turned her gaze back to Blood Raven.
"You're, you're Blood Raven!" she stammered with barely contained shock. Her voice rose several pitches, and practically bubbled with excitement. "When did you get here? Did you come to talk to me? Whatever I can do to help, I will! I can tell you all about Julian Ward. I dated him for a while! Are you really friends with Stormcrow? Are you going to catch this Hierophant? Can I get a selfie with you?"
"Yes, let us take a... selfie," Blood Raven forced the words from her lips. It was what January would do, one way that she would make herself part of the community. She waited patiently while the young woman fumbled for the phone in her purse, only to drop it from shaking hands.
Before it could strike the dorm room floor, Blood Raven caught it up with a golden tendril of energy. She tapped its screen, and waited a moment for Cray to remotely bypass its lock. Then she held it out to take several pictures of the two of them together. She even forced herself to smile. It turned out that it did not in fact, crack her face in two. Would wonders never cease?
"What is it that you study?" Blood Raven's eyes scanned the small room. A laptop sat open upon a small desk. A video of Stormcrow carrying an unconscious tiger played silently across its screen. A microwave and hot plate squeezed into the last tiny piece of real estate upon the desk beside it. A bed sat right next to it, with its fluffy teal quilt rumpled and disordered. A "Go Blue" pennant was tacked to one wall, along with a row of Christmas lights. The opposite side of the room was practically identical, with another bed and tiny desk crammed into the small space.
"Education," Rebecca said. "I'm going to be a teacher."
"A noble profession, one whose burdens I have shouldered many times myself." Blood Raven intoned quite seriously. She handed the phone back to the college student, and placed one hand on her shoulder. She stared deeply into the student's green eyes.
"Julian Ward did not rape you that night." She said plainly. "He drugged you, and once you were unconscious he traveled to Detroit, where he summoned a Creature of the Abyss. He returned before you awoke, so you never knew he left. In this manner you became his alibi, the same as all the others who saw him at the party."
Her aetherial eyes gazed deeply into the young woman's aura. It bore the simple gray tones of a mundane. But the threads of her power showed none of the tell tale frays of an assault. Rather it was healthy and strong. Even with minute inspection of the winding and vibrant strands of energy, Blood Raven saw nothing there to raise an alarm.
"How did you-?" Rebecca blurted, eyes wide with shock. "I mean, I never told..."
"I know." Blood Raven allowed some of her aion to flow about her, and surround her in a warm glow. It lent gravitas to her voice, and presence to her eyes. It made her larger than life. Usually she did this to overawe her enemies. But sometimes the authority it lent her could also bring a sense of reassurance and security to others. She hoped this was one such occurrence.
"Be at peace Rebecca," she intoned. "You have your entire life to look forward to. Follow your dreams."
With that Blood Raven turned and strode to the door. She gestured with one hand, and it opened without her touching it.
"But wait, I thought you wanted to talk to me... about him..." Rebecca stammered from behind her.
"Nay," Blood Raven paused to look back over her shoulder at the other woman. "I came here for you, not for him."
Granted, she had not known that until this very moment. But it was true nonetheless.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Cray's voice brought her back to the mundane necessities of their investigation. "She is going to post that all over social media. The Hierophant is sure to notice, and know we are closing in."
"She had to know," Blood Raven strode down the corridor to the nearest staircase. All around her students stopped in their tracks to gape. Some fumbled for phones, but most were too slow to record her passage. "It would have carried no weight coming from an ordinary reporter. She will believe it from Blood Raven."
"In any case, unless the Hierophant is a complete fool, he knows we are closing in. Let him hear the hounds bay upon his heels."
* * *
I spent a while working out the logistics of darting Tigris. Eventually I facepalmed, and realized that January could just do it herself by hand. It was by far the safest option for everyone.
Renee: I never watched the Ricki Lake show. But I do remember her from China Beach. I loved her in that. That is why I decided to use her as the inspiration for Gilda.
Gilda is not normally in Detroit at all. She's a big star at Worldwide Network News. So I would figure she lives in New York City, or wherever WNN has its headquarters. I never really thought of where it would be.
Everyone knows that the Summoner was Julian Ward. That was national news. It is why there were reporters all over January and her mom afterward. Gilda just doesn't care about that. That's not what drives clicks. Teen lesbian romance does.
That was not Dr. Duncan recording January at the end, it was one of the young zookeepers.
WellTemperedClavier: I walk a bit of a line with the property damage. On one hand I don't want to equate property as being worth the same or more than people's lives. But as someone who is not rich, I had to work hard for what I have, and losing it all in an instant is crushing. I had a Year of Four Cars. Yes, I went through four of them, and it sent me deep into debt. It took years to dig myself out of that. Like a lot of people, back then I could not afford collision or theft insurance, just the basic liability. So when one got stolen, and another got crunched in the middle of a three car accident, I got nothing from the insurance. I lost two others because of mechanical failures (engine seized, etc...), and had to junk them.
I always think of that when I am writing. Because January is not rich, she thinks of it too. She does not want to take away someone's livelihood just to show off by throwing a car at a supervillain. In Detroit, you need a car to have a job, and you need a job to have a car. There is no real public transportation aside from buses, which are just horrible. So it would be very easy for her to carelessly ruin someone's life.
I chose Detroit as the setting because I live here, and I know the place like the back of my hand. I could try to set it somewhere else, but the trouble is, I just don't know the character or nature of those places. I don't know the neighborhoods, or the attitudes. Plus, you rarely ever see the D as a setting. I do go to the trouble of being specific about place names and streets and describing the skyline. I want the city itself to be a character. So it feels real to people from out of town, and not just generic Superville.
Recycled was inspired very loosely by the early issues of the Ms. Marvel comic with Kamala Khan. In it she took on a supervillain whose lair was in a junkyard, and who used junkbots and a junkmech. So I started from there, and took a detour into Fred Sanford zone. I wanted the junk menace. But I wanted a villain who was not really that villainous. I also wanted an ending that did not involve a big punch, but rather empathy. I wanted to show that January is the kind of person who would rather help people than hit them, or put them in jail.
Isaac will appear several more times in the future (and yes, he will get his Mecha!). So too will Lighthammer. Most of the people January encounters will become part of her orbit, and will come together for the big finale to Season One in Book 10 (which I am currently working on). A lot of them will come together before then too. With Avery with her from the start, January is not a lone wolf. She cannot do it all on her own, and she embraces that. Bringing people together for common purpose is perhaps her greatest superpower.
Jan's dad (and brother), being so toxic were writing choices I made because all too often this is the case in people's lives. Not just Queer people's lives. Everybody's lives. I wanted to show that she has to deal with issues in her life, the same as anyone else. Hence the reason she attempted suicide when she was a child.
Book 9.3 - Ashes
July 6th, late morning
Blood Raven was in disguise. Well, she was not in her armor at least. Instead she wore a simple top and skirt. A pair of glasses balanced above her nose, and her auburn hair was tied back in a bun. She appeared entirely ordinary, and entirely professional. Just like any of the other myriad of reporters who had descended upon Detroit in the wake of the Summoner's death.
"Rebecca, tell me what happened on the night of May 25th."
Blood Raven entwined her words with aion. They were not a question, but a demand. They wove their way through the aura of the young woman who sat across from her, and lodged within her brain. There her power did not wake sleeping memories, but rather bridged the gap in time between the present and the creation of said remembrances. Now and then were now bound together with her words and magic. At the same time her subject's conscious awareness ebbed away like a ship receding into the night. She became an automata reciting everything she saw and heard in the past.
"Julian took me to a party on campus," the red-haired student said in a dull monotone. The college student's eyes were as empty and devoid of intensity as her speech. "I was excited. I wore my new red miniskirt. I wanted that night to be special. I wanted it to be the first time we had sex. It was, but not in the way I hoped."
"How is that?" Blood Raven probed.
"I barely drank from my cup of beer, but I got really, really trashed," Rebecca explained. "It was hard to walk, especially in my heels. Then I got really sleepy. He took me to a bedroom. I woke up hours later, and he was there, looking all smug."
"Do you remember what happened in between?" Blood Raven asked.
"I don't know," Rebecca answered. "It is all... blank. But I can guess. He roofied me, and he raped me. That is why I never talked to him since."
It took every ounce of Blood Raven's self-composure to contain the scowl that wanted to form upon her features. But centuries of working as both a teacher and as a nurse had taught her to insure that her inner feelings did not disturb her external appearance. She pressed Rebecca for details about the time when they arrived at the party, and when she later woke.
"That confirms it," Cray's mellow tones sounded in her ear. "It was plenty of time for him to teleport downtown and summon the buggane, then teleport back to the party."
Blood Raven called up her aion once more, and wrapped it about herself in a cloak. When she pulled it away, she was once more clad in her armor. Her hair returned to a mane of scarlet, and waved gently in a breeze that was not present in the tiny dorm room.
Finally, she allowed her spell to drop from the mind of the young woman before her. Rebecca's eyes swam back into focus, and she looked around her quizzically for a moment. Clearly, she was trying, and failing, to remember what had just occurred. Finally she turned her gaze back to Blood Raven.
"You're, you're Blood Raven!" she stammered with barely contained shock. Her voice rose several pitches, and practically bubbled with excitement. "When did you get here? Did you come to talk to me? Whatever I can do to help, I will! I can tell you all about Julian Ward. I dated him for a while! Are you really friends with Stormcrow? Are you going to catch this Hierophant? Can I get a selfie with you?"
"Yes, let us take a... selfie," Blood Raven forced the words from her lips. It was what January would do, one way that she would make herself part of the community. She waited patiently while the young woman fumbled for the phone in her purse, only to drop it from shaking hands.
Before it could strike the dorm room floor, Blood Raven caught it up with a golden tendril of energy. She tapped its screen, and waited a moment for Cray to remotely bypass its lock. Then she held it out to take several pictures of the two of them together. She even forced herself to smile. It turned out that it did not in fact, crack her face in two. Would wonders never cease?
"What is it that you study?" Blood Raven's eyes scanned the small room. A laptop sat open upon a small desk. A video of Stormcrow carrying an unconscious tiger played silently across its screen. A microwave and hot plate squeezed into the last tiny piece of real estate upon the desk beside it. A bed sat right next to it, with its fluffy teal quilt rumpled and disordered. A "Go Blue" pennant was tacked to one wall, along with a row of Christmas lights. The opposite side of the room was practically identical, with another bed and tiny desk crammed into the small space.
"Education," Rebecca said. "I'm going to be a teacher."
"A noble profession, one whose burdens I have shouldered many times myself." Blood Raven intoned quite seriously. She handed the phone back to the college student, and placed one hand on her shoulder. She stared deeply into the student's green eyes.
"Julian Ward did not rape you that night." She said plainly. "He drugged you, and once you were unconscious he traveled to Detroit, where he summoned a Creature of the Abyss. He returned before you awoke, so you never knew he left. In this manner you became his alibi, the same as all the others who saw him at the party."
Her aetherial eyes gazed deeply into the young woman's aura. It bore the simple gray tones of a mundane. But the threads of her power showed none of the tell tale frays of an assault. Rather it was healthy and strong. Even with minute inspection of the winding and vibrant strands of energy, Blood Raven saw nothing there to raise an alarm.
"How did you-?" Rebecca blurted, eyes wide with shock. "I mean, I never told..."
"I know." Blood Raven allowed some of her aion to flow about her, and surround her in a warm glow. It lent gravitas to her voice, and presence to her eyes. It made her larger than life. Usually she did this to overawe her enemies. But sometimes the authority it lent her could also bring a sense of reassurance and security to others. She hoped this was one such occurrence.
"Be at peace Rebecca," she intoned. "You have your entire life to look forward to. Follow your dreams."
With that Blood Raven turned and strode to the door. She gestured with one hand, and it opened without her touching it.
"But wait, I thought you wanted to talk to me... about him..." Rebecca stammered from behind her.
"Nay," Blood Raven paused to look back over her shoulder at the other woman. "I came here for you, not for him."
Granted, she had not known that until this very moment. But it was true nonetheless.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Cray's voice brought her back to the mundane necessities of their investigation. "She is going to post that all over social media. The Hierophant is sure to notice, and know we are closing in."
"She had to know," Blood Raven strode down the corridor to the nearest staircase. All around her students stopped in their tracks to gape. Some fumbled for phones, but most were too slow to record her passage. "It would have carried no weight coming from an ordinary reporter. She will believe it from Blood Raven."
"In any case, unless the Hierophant is a complete fool, he knows we are closing in. Let him hear the hounds bay upon his heels."
* * *
I’m continually impressed by the depth and sophistication of Blood Raven’s magic and the creative ways she is able to use it.
Blood Raven . . . of the Faint Smile? And getting selfied no less.
Her compassion comes through here pretty clearly with Rebecca. I don’t think I’d want to be the Hierophant pondering the possibility of facing Blood Raven though.
Blood Raven . . . of the Faint Smile?
And getting selfied no less. Her compassion comes through here pretty clearly with Rebecca. I don’t think I’d want to be the Hierophant pondering the possibility of facing Blood Raven though.
Whoa, I never heard of China Beach. I know Ricki was in a John Waters movie... ehm... Hairspray.
I see, I was thinking Gilda's a local. And Julian being Jan's brother is big news. Dangit, I'm just getting everything wrong this week, aren't I?
Julian sounds like a real piece of work. What a bastard. That's really neat how Raven is able to discern all that hidden info. It's like she hypnotized Rebecca in a way, but without needing to ask permission, and then attempt to put the student under. Sometimes hypnotism doesn't work.
Oh wait, so Julian didn't touch her. He was trying to create an alibi, eh? Yes. Damn.
I see, I was thinking Gilda's a local. And Julian being Jan's brother is big news. Dangit, I'm just getting everything wrong this week, aren't I?
Julian sounds like a real piece of work. What a bastard. That's really neat how Raven is able to discern all that hidden info. It's like she hypnotized Rebecca in a way, but without needing to ask permission, and then attempt to put the student under. Sometimes hypnotism doesn't work.
Oh wait, so Julian didn't touch her. He was trying to create an alibi, eh? Yes. Damn.
Just finished Book 3.
Blood Raven's fascinating. She's otherworldly enough to be rather unsettling, even though her record's undeniably heroic. And the sheer level of her power is enough to give anyone a bit of trepidation. While the intent ended up being good, I don't blame January for feeling troubled with BR first integrates herself into the family line.
With some heroes, there's a tricky balance between the admiration you feel for someone who's good, and fear you feel toward someone who's just that powerful. And Blood Raven walks that line in the best tradition (weirdly, the only similar example I can think of off the top of my head right now is Dr. Manhattan, who's obviously quite different from Blood Raven, but gives me a bit of the same vibe in that respect).
The book's focus on fighting the fire provided a somewhat different challenge. It was tense seeing January pushed to her absolute limits, not because of a meta, but due to an entirely earthly arson caused by a prick with a grudge. And what I really liked was how, in the end, there's no big confrontation or tense fight with John. He just... takes himself out. It works to ground this story. Real life doesn't follow a plot arc, and I think the way this resolved helps make the world feel more believable.
As always, I love the geographic detail.
Blood Raven's fascinating. She's otherworldly enough to be rather unsettling, even though her record's undeniably heroic. And the sheer level of her power is enough to give anyone a bit of trepidation. While the intent ended up being good, I don't blame January for feeling troubled with BR first integrates herself into the family line.
With some heroes, there's a tricky balance between the admiration you feel for someone who's good, and fear you feel toward someone who's just that powerful. And Blood Raven walks that line in the best tradition (weirdly, the only similar example I can think of off the top of my head right now is Dr. Manhattan, who's obviously quite different from Blood Raven, but gives me a bit of the same vibe in that respect).
The book's focus on fighting the fire provided a somewhat different challenge. It was tense seeing January pushed to her absolute limits, not because of a meta, but due to an entirely earthly arson caused by a prick with a grudge. And what I really liked was how, in the end, there's no big confrontation or tense fight with John. He just... takes himself out. It works to ground this story. Real life doesn't follow a plot arc, and I think the way this resolved helps make the world feel more believable.
As always, I love the geographic detail.
Acadian: Blood Raven has been around for 250 years, so she has had plenty of time to acquire the magical tools she needs on a day to day basis. Like her Hypnotic Voice for investigating. That will get a greater discussion in Book 10, when she teaches it to January. Or at least tries to do so. She also does have a magical ideal that she has fit herself to, that of the Morrigan. January does the same as an Elemental Valkyrie. Both their magics are really good at fitting those roles. Not the best at other things.
This episode was meant to show that 1 - Blood Raven is indeed following up on the investigation, and 2- In spite of all the fighting, she is also a compassionate person.
And as you noted. Anyone being hunted by Blood Raven should be very, very scared. Not being so is not a sane reaction.
Renee: China Beach was an old 90s show set in an army hospital Vietnam, starring Dana Delany. The first two seasons were really good. It sort of fell apart after that though.
Julian is a real piece of work. He's both an ass, and a clever one at that.
Blood Raven did hypnotize her. That is how she found out what really happened.
WellTemperedClavier: Wow, you are ripping through things!
Blood Raven has been a lot of fun to write. Also very challenging. Because she is very much a person out of time. I always have to be on my toes when I am writing her dialogue to get it just right. I am glad you get that sense of trepidation about her. Dr. Manhattan or Professor X are good comparisons. She could easily kill people with just a thought, in more than one way. The only thing stopping her is her sense of ethics. Thankfully just as she in an implacable foe, she is also a compassionate soul.
In Book 4 and 5 we will really see her in action, then later again in a huge way in Books 8 and 10, where she pulls out all the stops. I did not originally intend it, but as I wrote her, I realized that she is one of the most powerful metas in the world, in no small part thanks to her 250 years as a magician.
This is very much a progression fantasy, in that in each Book January is leveling up and learning new things. So I made an effort to use these "low levels" to do more than just the traditional punching things. Book 1 was basically the intro to who and what January is. Book 2 was a slightly bigger challenge that required more detective work and cleverness. But most importantly one that could be solved without punching, and the fact that January preferred that route again showed who she was. Book 3 also shows another "low level" antagonist - a normal person and a disaster, plus a team up and a new NPC who will become critical - Blood Raven. Book 4 will see January in the "Mid levels" as she begins to deliberately stretch her magical powers, with a much bigger antagonist, and finally a glimpse at the master villain of Season One.
I had a lot of fun writing January's flight from Cobo Hall to the Flying Dutchman. It gave me a chance to really showcase the centerpiece of Detroit: its riverfront and business districts.
Mr. Jack's song Crazy For This Crow is inspired by Crazy For This Girl by Evan and Jaron. The general sound and tempo are right. Much of the lyrics could also be exactly the same, just change "girl" to "crow"
Book 9.4 - Ashes
July 6th, evening
"Happy 6th of July!" Blackjack furiously shook his can of Cherry FaeCo. He cracked it open and thrust it skyward like a roman candle. The reddish-brown pop burst out in a frothy shower, and bathed him and the other Knights of Nerddom nearby in a wash of sugary goodness. Naturally Kell responded with a counter attack, turning loose a hastily shaken can of Koch-A-Cola. In no time at all they were all caught up in a frenzied battle of soft drinks.
January could not help but crack a smile at her friend's antics. Even her mother's perpetually drawn features brightened for a moment as she flipped over the hot dogs that broiled away on the grill. Like most of them, Barbara wore cutoffs and a tee. But as she was the unofficial grill mistress, she was also clad in an apron that proclaimed "Oh Crêpe!"
Even Branwen was in attendance. Unlike the others, she wore a snow white sundress whose long skirt flowed with every whiff of breeze that ghosted through the back yard of the Witch House. On one hand it was perfectly ordinary summer wear. On the other, she could easily be the heroine of a gothic horror novel. Which January imagined was the point. None of them could escape who they were.
Case in point, January herself wore a top that declared that: "She reads books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live."
Now Avery had wrangled up the water hose, and was spraying down the Knights with water. January was not sure if it was so much a matter of one-upping their pop can war, or a means of washing off the sticky soft drinks. In any case, Avery himself had no problems upending the rubber hose over his own head and liberally dousing himself with the crystal clear water.
"Paging Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, and Dr. Howard," Branwen wryly noted at the young men's antics.
"Looks like Disorder in the Court," Barbara murmured.
"Cookoo Cavaliers," January continued with the Three Stooges references. She wondered if Branwen had seen them live when they were on the Vaudeville circuit.
"Alright, alright you nutty knights!" Barbara lifted her voice in order to be heard over the ruckus. "Come and get it!"
That stopped the pack of young men in their tracks. By now they had all doffed their soggy shirts, and Blackjack was pantomiming a striptease in the middle of the yard. With a series of whoops and expectant cries, they raced across the grass to the back porch of the Witch House. There they obediently queued up with paper plates and reached for the packages of buns.
"You always have the best parties Ms. Ward," Blackjack said in a suddenly serious tone.
"Actually, it is Ms. Ryan now," Barbara smiled and dropped a seared dog onto the bearded young man's plate.
"The papers went through then?" Branwen arched an eyebrow.
"As of today I am officially divorced," Barbara smiled.
"So you went back to your old name then Ms. Wa-, Ryan?" Kell stepped up next for a hot dog.
"I'm changing my name to Ryan too," January beamed. "Though it is going to take a while longer, my court date isn't until next month."
"You should have gotten divorced, changing your name is much easier that way," Barbara muttered.
"So what's that going to do with your writing?" Rus was next in line. Even a soaked mess, his hair was a golden halo about his features. "And our comic book?"
"Well change it in the next issue," January said. "I might lose some name recognition now. But maybe someday all the original editions by January Ward might be collector's items!"
"And I'll get filthy rich selling them on Ebuy, and retire to live in a castle!" Kell stroked his short, neatly, trimmed beard like a master villain. "My plan is coming together nicely..."
Soon everyone had a hot dog and a handful of potato chips on their plates. They all tromped back onto the grass to sit around the picnic table that Kell had procured. A summer time feast under the blazing July sun followed. It reminded January of her life in the old days. Or were they The Old Days - all in caps now? Back when her life really was just books and writing, and capes were something her characters wore, rather than what hung in her own closet. Either way, it was nice.
She took a moment to spare a glance at Branwen. Avery was trying to explain the difference between anime and cartoons to her, and was failing miserably. She hoped that this momentary oasis of peace and normality was as good for the two and a half century old vampire as it was for herself.
Blackjack's phone rang, blaring out the theme of the Addam's Family. He paused to glance down at it, and his eyes widened in shock at whatever he saw on the screen. He dropped his half-eaten hot dog and scooped up the Hamsung in mustard-stained fingers. He tried to reply, but it just came out a jumble of incoherent rumbling with his mouth still filled with food. He nodded along several times, and finally spoke in a clear voice.
"Yes, yes, oh frak yes!" he nodded furiously along. "I'll be there!"
He set the phone down slowly upon the table. Everyone had fallen silent, and stared back at him. For a moment his face was a mask of stone. Then his features erupted in transcendent joy.
"That was a producer for the Helen Show. They want me on Monday!" he proclaimed. "I'm gonna be on TV! LA here I come!"
Cheers and high fives filled the air as January and the others gushed to congratulate him. In no time at all Avery had his own phone out and went to MeTube. He brought up Blackjack's new song: Crazy for this Crow. January's eyes nearly bulged when she saw the number of likes. It was a lot, millions of a lot in fact.
Then the video started, and January sat enraptured as she watched Blackjack hurtle from one unlikely scenario to another. All of them revolved around Stormcrow. There was actual video from her various encounters with the djieien, neo-Nazis, and of course her recent battle with the oniare at Gull Island. There was even a shaky vid of her splatting against the window of the elevator at the Lakeside Mall, the first day she had met Hannah.
January stared at a clip of herself from the Flying Dutchman fire. She knelt there coughing blood onto the sidewalk from her seared lungs. She was covered in soot, and tiny flames still sputtered about her frame. Rain poured from the sky, making the scene appear even more somber. January was surprised that Blackjack had chosen to include that clip. It was neither humorous nor awe-inspiring. Instead it showed her vulnerability, and more importantly what she was willing to endure for the sake of others.
The video picked back up in moments however. It was indeed a hilarious serious of vignettes. All of them showed original material of Blackjack trying to get Stormcrow's attention, interspersed between the real life footage of her. The lyrics explained that he was indeed crazy about her. But every time he tried to catch her eye, some new disaster cropped up, and she literally walked, leaped, or flew past him to save the day.
Blackjack portrayed every original role in the video of course, just as he sang and played every instrument in the song itself. Not that he was a musical genius. As January had noted before, his playing was just ok. But his acting was a comedic tour de force. She also had to admit, it had real heart underneath it all.
"So has Stormcrow said anything about it?" Kell asked. "Good, bad, or ugly?"
"Not that I've seen," Blackjack mused. "Wouldn't that be great though? Just to meet her. She's really something..."
January remembered what Ryo had said about Blackjack.
"He has been thirsty for you since you transitioned...", only to be followed with: "This really will not help, but he has a new crush, Stormcrow."
Ope! That was still not awkward at all. Not one bit.
"You met Stormcrow though right January?" Rus said. "That day your bro-"
The young blond man's words trailed off, perhaps finally remembering that the day she had 'met' Stormcrow had been the day of her brother's death. At least that was what her mother, and the rest of the world, believed.
"We could not get her for the video," Ryo spoke up. "But I think Blackjack did a great job portraying her in the new original footage we shot. We even got the same shade of lipstick she wears."
"I'm way sexier than her though," Blackjack laughed as he slapped his ample belly. "Especially in that skin tight suit. I hope I don't make her jealous!"
"I don't think she's the jealous type," January cracked a smile. Her eyes moved to Ryo, who stared back at her. She wanted to congratulate him for making the save after Rus' blundering words. "I think she will love it. She's probably too busy to see it right now."
"So am I to understand that your band broke up Mr. Jack?" Branwen surprised January even more by keeping the conversation going.
"Mr. Jack?" Blackjack raised an eyebrow in delight. "Now that is one I will have to remember. Yeah, they did before I could even record the song. Our drummer decided he needed to get his head on straight, so he went on a pilgrimage to Tibet. The bass player quit to start a Burger Baron franchise. And my lead guitarist, well the less said about that fart-nozzle the better..."
Blackjack scowled at the mention of the last, but Ryo continued on.
"He refused to do a song about a trans person," the young man intoned quite informatively. "He said the band was going too SJ-, oh, I should not have said that."
Ryo looked down at his plate when a host of stares met him from around the table. January felt for him. Sometimes it seemed the only body language he could interpret were the negative cases.
"So other than that Mrs. Lincoln, my night at the theater was delightful," Blackjack recovered as deftly as ever. "How was yours?"
"Life is always filled with tribulations," Branwen replied. "It is how we meet them that reveals our character."
"So are you going to start a new band?" Barbara really surprised January by speaking up. "You are on top of the world right now. It's too bad you can't go on tour to really take advantage of it."
"That's ok," Blackjack said. "I still do get a little money for every view online. Plus, I think this might open up some doors for me. I can do some of my standup on the show. If I can get Helen laughing, who knows what might be next?"
"Maybe Hollywood?" January said quite sincerely. "You really should be in movies. You are way funnier than most actors."
"You never can tell..." Blackjack - Mr. Jack - grinned.
Later when the party began to peter out, Branwen was naturally the first to take her leave. January offered to give her a ride on her Victory. Once they had ridden out of the driveway and down the street, she pulled over into the parking lot of the nearby Nature Center. January swiveled back in her seat to face the woman behind her.
"I know you are chasing leads on the Hierophant," she said. "I want in."
"I am not certain you possess the right talents," Branwen replied. "Cray and Avery pursue the digital trails. But in the end I must speak face to face with all those who have been in contact with Julian."
"I can do that," January insisted.
"Yet can you discern when you are being lied to?" Branwen tilted her head slightly to one side, as if to place emphasis on her words. "As you know, I may exert a certain influence upon the weak-minded. I can even coax them to accurately recall memories they had forgotten. Can you do the same?"
"Then teach me how to do that whammy you put on people," January felt her face flush. "I can do this. I can't just sit around doing nothing anymore."
"Very well then, I shall meet you in the sanctum tomorrow morning." Branwen smiled. "There is a task you might attend to."
* * *
This episode was meant to show that 1 - Blood Raven is indeed following up on the investigation, and 2- In spite of all the fighting, she is also a compassionate person.
And as you noted. Anyone being hunted by Blood Raven should be very, very scared. Not being so is not a sane reaction.
Renee: China Beach was an old 90s show set in an army hospital Vietnam, starring Dana Delany. The first two seasons were really good. It sort of fell apart after that though.
Julian is a real piece of work. He's both an ass, and a clever one at that.
Blood Raven did hypnotize her. That is how she found out what really happened.
WellTemperedClavier: Wow, you are ripping through things!
Blood Raven has been a lot of fun to write. Also very challenging. Because she is very much a person out of time. I always have to be on my toes when I am writing her dialogue to get it just right. I am glad you get that sense of trepidation about her. Dr. Manhattan or Professor X are good comparisons. She could easily kill people with just a thought, in more than one way. The only thing stopping her is her sense of ethics. Thankfully just as she in an implacable foe, she is also a compassionate soul.
In Book 4 and 5 we will really see her in action, then later again in a huge way in Books 8 and 10, where she pulls out all the stops. I did not originally intend it, but as I wrote her, I realized that she is one of the most powerful metas in the world, in no small part thanks to her 250 years as a magician.
This is very much a progression fantasy, in that in each Book January is leveling up and learning new things. So I made an effort to use these "low levels" to do more than just the traditional punching things. Book 1 was basically the intro to who and what January is. Book 2 was a slightly bigger challenge that required more detective work and cleverness. But most importantly one that could be solved without punching, and the fact that January preferred that route again showed who she was. Book 3 also shows another "low level" antagonist - a normal person and a disaster, plus a team up and a new NPC who will become critical - Blood Raven. Book 4 will see January in the "Mid levels" as she begins to deliberately stretch her magical powers, with a much bigger antagonist, and finally a glimpse at the master villain of Season One.
I had a lot of fun writing January's flight from Cobo Hall to the Flying Dutchman. It gave me a chance to really showcase the centerpiece of Detroit: its riverfront and business districts.
Mr. Jack's song Crazy For This Crow is inspired by Crazy For This Girl by Evan and Jaron. The general sound and tempo are right. Much of the lyrics could also be exactly the same, just change "girl" to "crow"
Book 9.4 - Ashes
July 6th, evening
"Happy 6th of July!" Blackjack furiously shook his can of Cherry FaeCo. He cracked it open and thrust it skyward like a roman candle. The reddish-brown pop burst out in a frothy shower, and bathed him and the other Knights of Nerddom nearby in a wash of sugary goodness. Naturally Kell responded with a counter attack, turning loose a hastily shaken can of Koch-A-Cola. In no time at all they were all caught up in a frenzied battle of soft drinks.
January could not help but crack a smile at her friend's antics. Even her mother's perpetually drawn features brightened for a moment as she flipped over the hot dogs that broiled away on the grill. Like most of them, Barbara wore cutoffs and a tee. But as she was the unofficial grill mistress, she was also clad in an apron that proclaimed "Oh Crêpe!"
Even Branwen was in attendance. Unlike the others, she wore a snow white sundress whose long skirt flowed with every whiff of breeze that ghosted through the back yard of the Witch House. On one hand it was perfectly ordinary summer wear. On the other, she could easily be the heroine of a gothic horror novel. Which January imagined was the point. None of them could escape who they were.
Case in point, January herself wore a top that declared that: "She reads books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live."
Now Avery had wrangled up the water hose, and was spraying down the Knights with water. January was not sure if it was so much a matter of one-upping their pop can war, or a means of washing off the sticky soft drinks. In any case, Avery himself had no problems upending the rubber hose over his own head and liberally dousing himself with the crystal clear water.
"Paging Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, and Dr. Howard," Branwen wryly noted at the young men's antics.
"Looks like Disorder in the Court," Barbara murmured.
"Cookoo Cavaliers," January continued with the Three Stooges references. She wondered if Branwen had seen them live when they were on the Vaudeville circuit.
"Alright, alright you nutty knights!" Barbara lifted her voice in order to be heard over the ruckus. "Come and get it!"
That stopped the pack of young men in their tracks. By now they had all doffed their soggy shirts, and Blackjack was pantomiming a striptease in the middle of the yard. With a series of whoops and expectant cries, they raced across the grass to the back porch of the Witch House. There they obediently queued up with paper plates and reached for the packages of buns.
"You always have the best parties Ms. Ward," Blackjack said in a suddenly serious tone.
"Actually, it is Ms. Ryan now," Barbara smiled and dropped a seared dog onto the bearded young man's plate.
"The papers went through then?" Branwen arched an eyebrow.
"As of today I am officially divorced," Barbara smiled.
"So you went back to your old name then Ms. Wa-, Ryan?" Kell stepped up next for a hot dog.
"I'm changing my name to Ryan too," January beamed. "Though it is going to take a while longer, my court date isn't until next month."
"You should have gotten divorced, changing your name is much easier that way," Barbara muttered.
"So what's that going to do with your writing?" Rus was next in line. Even a soaked mess, his hair was a golden halo about his features. "And our comic book?"
"Well change it in the next issue," January said. "I might lose some name recognition now. But maybe someday all the original editions by January Ward might be collector's items!"
"And I'll get filthy rich selling them on Ebuy, and retire to live in a castle!" Kell stroked his short, neatly, trimmed beard like a master villain. "My plan is coming together nicely..."
Soon everyone had a hot dog and a handful of potato chips on their plates. They all tromped back onto the grass to sit around the picnic table that Kell had procured. A summer time feast under the blazing July sun followed. It reminded January of her life in the old days. Or were they The Old Days - all in caps now? Back when her life really was just books and writing, and capes were something her characters wore, rather than what hung in her own closet. Either way, it was nice.
She took a moment to spare a glance at Branwen. Avery was trying to explain the difference between anime and cartoons to her, and was failing miserably. She hoped that this momentary oasis of peace and normality was as good for the two and a half century old vampire as it was for herself.
Blackjack's phone rang, blaring out the theme of the Addam's Family. He paused to glance down at it, and his eyes widened in shock at whatever he saw on the screen. He dropped his half-eaten hot dog and scooped up the Hamsung in mustard-stained fingers. He tried to reply, but it just came out a jumble of incoherent rumbling with his mouth still filled with food. He nodded along several times, and finally spoke in a clear voice.
"Yes, yes, oh frak yes!" he nodded furiously along. "I'll be there!"
He set the phone down slowly upon the table. Everyone had fallen silent, and stared back at him. For a moment his face was a mask of stone. Then his features erupted in transcendent joy.
"That was a producer for the Helen Show. They want me on Monday!" he proclaimed. "I'm gonna be on TV! LA here I come!"
Cheers and high fives filled the air as January and the others gushed to congratulate him. In no time at all Avery had his own phone out and went to MeTube. He brought up Blackjack's new song: Crazy for this Crow. January's eyes nearly bulged when she saw the number of likes. It was a lot, millions of a lot in fact.
Then the video started, and January sat enraptured as she watched Blackjack hurtle from one unlikely scenario to another. All of them revolved around Stormcrow. There was actual video from her various encounters with the djieien, neo-Nazis, and of course her recent battle with the oniare at Gull Island. There was even a shaky vid of her splatting against the window of the elevator at the Lakeside Mall, the first day she had met Hannah.
January stared at a clip of herself from the Flying Dutchman fire. She knelt there coughing blood onto the sidewalk from her seared lungs. She was covered in soot, and tiny flames still sputtered about her frame. Rain poured from the sky, making the scene appear even more somber. January was surprised that Blackjack had chosen to include that clip. It was neither humorous nor awe-inspiring. Instead it showed her vulnerability, and more importantly what she was willing to endure for the sake of others.
The video picked back up in moments however. It was indeed a hilarious serious of vignettes. All of them showed original material of Blackjack trying to get Stormcrow's attention, interspersed between the real life footage of her. The lyrics explained that he was indeed crazy about her. But every time he tried to catch her eye, some new disaster cropped up, and she literally walked, leaped, or flew past him to save the day.
Blackjack portrayed every original role in the video of course, just as he sang and played every instrument in the song itself. Not that he was a musical genius. As January had noted before, his playing was just ok. But his acting was a comedic tour de force. She also had to admit, it had real heart underneath it all.
"So has Stormcrow said anything about it?" Kell asked. "Good, bad, or ugly?"
"Not that I've seen," Blackjack mused. "Wouldn't that be great though? Just to meet her. She's really something..."
January remembered what Ryo had said about Blackjack.
"He has been thirsty for you since you transitioned...", only to be followed with: "This really will not help, but he has a new crush, Stormcrow."
Ope! That was still not awkward at all. Not one bit.
"You met Stormcrow though right January?" Rus said. "That day your bro-"
The young blond man's words trailed off, perhaps finally remembering that the day she had 'met' Stormcrow had been the day of her brother's death. At least that was what her mother, and the rest of the world, believed.
"We could not get her for the video," Ryo spoke up. "But I think Blackjack did a great job portraying her in the new original footage we shot. We even got the same shade of lipstick she wears."
"I'm way sexier than her though," Blackjack laughed as he slapped his ample belly. "Especially in that skin tight suit. I hope I don't make her jealous!"
"I don't think she's the jealous type," January cracked a smile. Her eyes moved to Ryo, who stared back at her. She wanted to congratulate him for making the save after Rus' blundering words. "I think she will love it. She's probably too busy to see it right now."
"So am I to understand that your band broke up Mr. Jack?" Branwen surprised January even more by keeping the conversation going.
"Mr. Jack?" Blackjack raised an eyebrow in delight. "Now that is one I will have to remember. Yeah, they did before I could even record the song. Our drummer decided he needed to get his head on straight, so he went on a pilgrimage to Tibet. The bass player quit to start a Burger Baron franchise. And my lead guitarist, well the less said about that fart-nozzle the better..."
Blackjack scowled at the mention of the last, but Ryo continued on.
"He refused to do a song about a trans person," the young man intoned quite informatively. "He said the band was going too SJ-, oh, I should not have said that."
Ryo looked down at his plate when a host of stares met him from around the table. January felt for him. Sometimes it seemed the only body language he could interpret were the negative cases.
"So other than that Mrs. Lincoln, my night at the theater was delightful," Blackjack recovered as deftly as ever. "How was yours?"
"Life is always filled with tribulations," Branwen replied. "It is how we meet them that reveals our character."
"So are you going to start a new band?" Barbara really surprised January by speaking up. "You are on top of the world right now. It's too bad you can't go on tour to really take advantage of it."
"That's ok," Blackjack said. "I still do get a little money for every view online. Plus, I think this might open up some doors for me. I can do some of my standup on the show. If I can get Helen laughing, who knows what might be next?"
"Maybe Hollywood?" January said quite sincerely. "You really should be in movies. You are way funnier than most actors."
"You never can tell..." Blackjack - Mr. Jack - grinned.
Later when the party began to peter out, Branwen was naturally the first to take her leave. January offered to give her a ride on her Victory. Once they had ridden out of the driveway and down the street, she pulled over into the parking lot of the nearby Nature Center. January swiveled back in her seat to face the woman behind her.
"I know you are chasing leads on the Hierophant," she said. "I want in."
"I am not certain you possess the right talents," Branwen replied. "Cray and Avery pursue the digital trails. But in the end I must speak face to face with all those who have been in contact with Julian."
"I can do that," January insisted.
"Yet can you discern when you are being lied to?" Branwen tilted her head slightly to one side, as if to place emphasis on her words. "As you know, I may exert a certain influence upon the weak-minded. I can even coax them to accurately recall memories they had forgotten. Can you do the same?"
"Then teach me how to do that whammy you put on people," January felt her face flush. "I can do this. I can't just sit around doing nothing anymore."
"Very well then, I shall meet you in the sanctum tomorrow morning." Branwen smiled. "There is a task you might attend to."
* * *
A delightful summer barbeque! I love the wonderfully rich, random details you spiced this event with like the battle of the soda pops, what everyone was wearing and a cel phone with an 'Addam’s Family' ringtone.
AndCaptain Mr Jack is off to the big time it seems. Sounds like a fun crow-vid he put together. I hope his crush on the Crow does not cause problems.
So the Stormcrow is going to attempt to learn Blood Raven’s hypnotic voice whammy. I hope she doesn't confuse the hypnotic voice with the telephone perky voice.
And
So the Stormcrow is going to attempt to learn Blood Raven’s hypnotic voice whammy. I hope she doesn't confuse the hypnotic voice with the telephone perky voice.
Yes, that is right about vampires, they can hypnotize in ways which the typical shrink cannot. They don't have to do that old trick when they break out the pocket watch and start dangling it. "You are getting sleeeeepy..." 
I can recall scenes in 'Salem's Lot, Dark Shadows, and of course Anne Rice in which the vampire merely gazes into the eyes of their subject. 
Thanks for continuing to use dates. I like knowing how much time has passed, what day/season it is, and so on. Dates set the setting, in a way, especially knowing it's summer in Michigan. It gets muggy up there, too.
Grille Mistress. Oh cool. Glad to hear she is divorced. That's the best news.
Uh oh. A phone call... Phew. Good news. I feared it would be... never mind. Is Helen inspired from Ellen?
What a delightful party. There's a lot of interplay going on between these folks. Thoughts unsaid (or said) and so on, at certain moments. They know each other well.
I can recall scenes in 'Salem's Lot, Dark Shadows, and of course Anne Rice in which the vampire merely gazes into the eyes of their subject. Thanks for continuing to use dates. I like knowing how much time has passed, what day/season it is, and so on. Dates set the setting, in a way, especially knowing it's summer in Michigan. It gets muggy up there, too.
Grille Mistress.
Oh cool. Glad to hear she is divorced. That's the best news. Uh oh. A phone call... Phew. Good news. I feared it would be... never mind. Is Helen inspired from Ellen?
What a delightful party. There's a lot of interplay going on between these folks. Thoughts unsaid (or said) and so on, at certain moments. They know each other well.
Acadian: The 6th of July Party was a nice little slice of normality in the midst of the craziness of superhero life. Things have grown especially intense since the Battle of Gull Island and Julian's death. So I wanted a counterpoint, that showed January and her Mom still living their lives in spite of it all. Just like Gandalf would hang out with the hobbits of the Shire to remain grounded, the Knights of Nerddom are January's link to normalcy, and ultimately what she is fighting for.
Mr. Jack is off to the big times. I kind of expect that financially, he will be the most successful of them all. I envision him becoming a medium tier comedy movie star similar to Jack Black is, or Seth Rogan, or Kevin Smith.
January will have her issues with the hypnotic voice. But those will not come up until the next Book.
Renee: Blood Raven's hypnotic voice is not quite the standard vampire hypnosis. Hers does a lot more, such as allow people to remember things exactly as they occurred.
A lot happens in this story in a very short time span. Some of these books take place over just one or two days. For example, Book 10 is just a single day. But it is shaping up to be a big one.
Helen is definitely inspired by Ellen. I wanted a day time talk show host, and she seemed like the most recognizable one.
The party is a nice slice of normality, and all the good things in life. I wanted to show a piece of that in between all the super battles and planning, and investigating.
As always The Aura can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map
Pic of Harper (RL Janelle Monáe)
Pic of Kaelin(RL Kaelin Farnish)
Book 9.5 - Ashes
July 7th
Tomorrow morning could not come soon enough for January. She was up at dawn, fed the birds, and scarfed down a quick breakfast of vanilla almond cereal. She was in and out of the shower in no time at all. Then she found herself pacing back and forth through the sanctum. Thankfully she could not wear a rut through this particular floor.
She did not know why she was suddenly so anxious. No, anxious was not the right word. She was eager. She had been out of things for over a week now, ever since her brother died. It was not like she wept for him. But it did feel like her own life had been put on hold because of it, just like her mother's had been. She needed to get back to the business of living. She needed to get back into the hunt for whoever was summoning the Abyssals, before it was too late.
As she usually did when she found herself waiting, she stopped, took a deep breath, and sat down. She took her time just breathing, and began doing stretches. Soon enough she had her legs splayed out in the sideways splits, and called up her mana. It surrounded her in a golden circle of runes as she sang her elemental mantra, first in Old Norse, then in English.
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.
She lost track of time that way, along with the world around her. There was just her magic, and herself, locked in a slow dance of peace and strength.
She felt something stir in the astral, a slight whiff of energy that sprang up within the sanctum. The witch bottles that defended the house and grounds immediately flared a warning in her mind. Someone was coming. A moment later, that someone appeared before January's astral eyes.
It was Blood Raven of course. January recognized her particular scent before the elder heroine had even finished gating into the sanctum. As ever, she shone in the astral like a fiery sun. January dimmed her astral sight and opened her meat eyes, and saw that like herself, the other woman was clad in her armor.
"Meditating I see," Blood Raven nodded. "Excellent, I have never had a student as focused as you."
January rolled backward, and used the motion to bring her legs in. Once they were she sprang to her feet, and stepped to the other woman.
"You mean one who doesn't have a life," January murmured.
"You possess a life my dear," Blood Raven noted. "Just not like that of others."
"So where do we start?" January allowed the eagerness she felt to escape with her words. "Are you going to teach me your hypnotic voice thing?"
"Not today," Blood Raven shook her head. "It is time for you to meet someone, several someones in fact. They shall speed you on your journey."
"My journey?" January raised an eyebrow that Mr. Spock would be proud of. "You are being even more cryptic than usual.
"What manner of mentor should I be were I not?" Blood Raven extended a hand to January. "Come."
January stepped closer, and she felt mana once more flow through the sanctum. Blood Raven had activated the gateway she had inscribed into its floor. A magic circle of glowing Celtic runes sprang to life around them, rimming the pentagram that formed directly beneath their feet. As before, her blood called to it, the blood of both of them in fact. That was the key which unlocked the gateway after all.
A moment later they were standing within the Raven's Nest. The great black marble wall stretched up behind them. While before their eyes rose the tall French doors that looked out over Downtown. They did not remain however. An instant later Blood Raven activated the gateway a second time, and they found themselves at the bottom of a stairwell. January recognized it after a few moments. It was in the public parking structure next door.
She followed the other woman up the stairs and to the ground floor. The two of them walked past a car that was driving into the structure. For a moment January was afraid the driver might crash it into a concrete support pillar. But thankfully he reined in his surprise in time to avoid such a kinetic disaster.
They were out in the street a moment later. Being a Sunday morning there were few pedestrians around, those that were stopped and gawked at the pair of superheroines. As ever, January took a moment to wave. She was surprised to see that Blood Raven even cracked a smile.
"Walking around in public, smiling at people?" January stared at her mentor with amusement. "Ok, who are you, and what have done with the real Blood Raven?"
"I have been advised that I might perhaps be kinder to people." Blood Raven replied with studied nonchalance. "You were correct. They need to see us. They need to know we are here."
January felt the other woman gather up reality around her with magical fingers, and reshape it to suit her will. She was in the air and flying an instant later. January spread her wings and followed with a great leap. A chorus of cheers rose up underneath her, and she spared a glance back to see a dozen people all waving and taking pictures with their phones.
Blood Raven led them over the Compuware Building and Campus Martius. Then they threaded their way through a pair of old Art Deco skyscrapers, and soared past the Baroque masterpiece of the old Wayne County Building. She took a moment to appreciate the bronze sculptures that flanked its central tower and portico. Long since turned green with age, they depicted chariots drawn by angelic women, while even more such figures lined the tower's upper reaches, brandishing spears and other tools.
They dropped to earth immediately beyond. There were no grand old edifices here however, just a cluster of plain brick buildings. January recognized St. Andrews Hall. Blackjack's old band had played there before after all. Blood Raven led her past the ornate granite entrance of the hall, to a second building set directly beside its eastern wall, with no alley between the two. This one jutted farther out into the sidewalk, leaving no room for even a small crowd to gather there. A simple sign proclaiming it as a bar hung over the black awning. Otherwise there was nothing to distinguish the place.
Blood Raven stepped past the rental scooters parked on the sidewalk, and opened the thick, carved mahogany door. January followed. Her astral senses tingled the moment she crossed the threshold. She felt magic there, a barrier of sorts. Her eyes traced its contours, and followed them to the statue of a gargoyle that squatted just inside the doorway. Its great bulging eyes seemed to stare into January's soul. No, it stared into her aura. It was scanning her, testing her, like a magical security system.
"You sense the ward, good," Blood Raven murmured. "Your powers grow."
"It keeps out the riff raff." A voice came out from across the room. It was attached to one of the most stunning people January had ever seen. Their skin was soft sandalwood, and their straightened blond hair was pulled back and tied off with a silk bow. Their lips glistened, and their eyes were rimmed with a light dusting of black makeup. Several rings glinted from their fingers, and they were clad in white trousers that were held up by black suspenders. Over this they wore a long coat lined with buttons down either side. It was something straight from the Revolutionary War.
Beyond them stretched out the interior of the club. A long wooden bar ran the length of the left wall, and a row of bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling overhead. A row of small tables graced the opposite wall, with a narrow channel between for patrons to mingle. The back wall was filled with black and white photographs of old Detroit, and a small stage with a piano was set up in one corner. A pair of flatscreen televisions loomed in different corners of the long, rectangular room. These were turned off, and no celebrants occupied the space. It was Sunday morning after all. In fact, it was only the three of them within.
"Welcome to the Aura," the strangely-attired, and definitely gender-fluid, person greeted them. Their eyes locked with January's, and she felt herself almost blush as they reached out to take her hand. But rather than shake it; they turned her hand over, and bowed forward to gently kiss the back of it.
"I am Harper Esquire, co-proprietor." they declared. "My pronouns are she/her, they/them, he/him. I flow."
"So I see," January beamed. Harper possessed a magnetism that would have been difficult to ignore, even if one had wanted to. "It is my distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Stormcrow, my pronouns are she/her, or they/them really. Though I am still not sure what I am doing here."
January spared a glance to Blood Raven beside her.
"She didn't tell you?" Harper raised an eyebrow, and looked from January to her scarlet-maned companion. "Still leaning into the mysterious and aloof mentor role I see Blood Raven."
"It must come naturally Harper," Blood Raven nodded to the decidedly non-binary proprietor in reply. "When did you add the Esquire to your name?"
"The other week," they shrugged in response. "I just liked the sound of it."
Their host sauntered over to a nearby table, and gracefully perched upon one of the tall wooden chairs. They crossed their legs, showing off the tall, polished black boots that they wore. Again, these were nothing from a modern store. They looked like they might have come from an 18th Century cavalry officer's feet. January even noted the silver spurs that gleamed from the low heels.
"It suits you," January agreed. She followed Blood Raven to the table, and joined her in taking a seat.
Before January could ask a second time what this had to do with their investigation, a loud clatter came from the back of the room. All eyes turned to the stainless steel swinging door in the far wall. January imagined it might lead to a kitchen beyond. It sounded like pots and pans were being knocked together, underscored by the clacking of hard soles on a tile floor.
"Ahh, that would be my partner Kaelin." Harper's eyes lit up. January wondered if that meant partner in the business sense, or the personal one? Or both? "She has been just pining to meet you Stormcrow, enough to wake up before noon."
"They're here!" a voice rang out from across the room. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Another non-binary or trans - or both - person came stomping through the metal door. They held a tray full of drinks in their hand. Their light skin was dotted by a small mole under one corner of their thin lips. A handful of freckles likewise flecked their long features. Their eyes were liquid green, nearly blue, and a silver piercing ran though one of their long, narrow eyebrows, a match for the one that hung from their nose. Their hair was dyed a brilliant green, and stood up in a great shock, even as the sides of her head were shaved down to the scalp.
They were dressed in a blue sport coat, over a button down shirt that looked like it had been tye-dyed blue and white. A blue tie hung loosely from their neck. Their long legs were covered in dark tights, beneath a blue and white plaid skirt. A pair of chunky combat boots girded by shiny chains clonked on the floor with every step they took.
Like Harper, they were a blend of masculine and feminine, but in a vastly different way. Where the former's presentation was as an Old World chevalier, Kaelin was as punk as one could be without a Sex Pistols album cover tattooed on your forehead. January had to admit, she really admired both of their styles, and the courage it took to be so distinct and unique in presentation. Junior High School had taught her the dangers of standing out from the crowd like that.
"Well of course they are here sweetheart," Harper sighed. "The watch dog told you, just like it did me."
"But I was still trying to get ready!" Kaelin almost pouted. "I couldn't decide between the stilettos or the chain boots."
"The chains really work," January found herself saying without thinking. "It really goes with your look."
"You think so?" Kaelin stopped and ran a hand through their hair. "You don't think it's too much?"
"It's just right dear, as you always are," Harper smiled.
With that Kaelin clomped through the room to them. She set down the tray that she carried on the table between them, revealing four stoneware cups with an indistinct brown liquid floating within each. She plopped down on the final open chair, and spread out in a most unladylike fashion. The bejeweled fingers of one of Harper's hands instantly found their way to one bared knee, and gently caressed it.
"Oh hi!" the newcomer suddenly sprang up, as if remembering what they were doing. "I'm Kaelin. My pronouns are she/her, or they/them."
January shook her hand, a normal greeting this time, rather than an elaborate courtly ritual.
"I am so glad to finally meet you," Kaelin practically gushed. "Ever since you came on the scene, I was hoping you would come in to hang. And here you finally are!"
Mr. Jack is off to the big times. I kind of expect that financially, he will be the most successful of them all. I envision him becoming a medium tier comedy movie star similar to Jack Black is, or Seth Rogan, or Kevin Smith.
January will have her issues with the hypnotic voice. But those will not come up until the next Book.
Renee: Blood Raven's hypnotic voice is not quite the standard vampire hypnosis. Hers does a lot more, such as allow people to remember things exactly as they occurred.
A lot happens in this story in a very short time span. Some of these books take place over just one or two days. For example, Book 10 is just a single day. But it is shaping up to be a big one.
Helen is definitely inspired by Ellen. I wanted a day time talk show host, and she seemed like the most recognizable one.
The party is a nice slice of normality, and all the good things in life. I wanted to show a piece of that in between all the super battles and planning, and investigating.
As always The Aura can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map
Pic of Harper (RL Janelle Monáe)
Pic of Kaelin(RL Kaelin Farnish)
Book 9.5 - Ashes
July 7th
Tomorrow morning could not come soon enough for January. She was up at dawn, fed the birds, and scarfed down a quick breakfast of vanilla almond cereal. She was in and out of the shower in no time at all. Then she found herself pacing back and forth through the sanctum. Thankfully she could not wear a rut through this particular floor.
She did not know why she was suddenly so anxious. No, anxious was not the right word. She was eager. She had been out of things for over a week now, ever since her brother died. It was not like she wept for him. But it did feel like her own life had been put on hold because of it, just like her mother's had been. She needed to get back to the business of living. She needed to get back into the hunt for whoever was summoning the Abyssals, before it was too late.
As she usually did when she found herself waiting, she stopped, took a deep breath, and sat down. She took her time just breathing, and began doing stretches. Soon enough she had her legs splayed out in the sideways splits, and called up her mana. It surrounded her in a golden circle of runes as she sang her elemental mantra, first in Old Norse, then in English.
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.
She lost track of time that way, along with the world around her. There was just her magic, and herself, locked in a slow dance of peace and strength.
She felt something stir in the astral, a slight whiff of energy that sprang up within the sanctum. The witch bottles that defended the house and grounds immediately flared a warning in her mind. Someone was coming. A moment later, that someone appeared before January's astral eyes.
It was Blood Raven of course. January recognized her particular scent before the elder heroine had even finished gating into the sanctum. As ever, she shone in the astral like a fiery sun. January dimmed her astral sight and opened her meat eyes, and saw that like herself, the other woman was clad in her armor.
"Meditating I see," Blood Raven nodded. "Excellent, I have never had a student as focused as you."
January rolled backward, and used the motion to bring her legs in. Once they were she sprang to her feet, and stepped to the other woman.
"You mean one who doesn't have a life," January murmured.
"You possess a life my dear," Blood Raven noted. "Just not like that of others."
"So where do we start?" January allowed the eagerness she felt to escape with her words. "Are you going to teach me your hypnotic voice thing?"
"Not today," Blood Raven shook her head. "It is time for you to meet someone, several someones in fact. They shall speed you on your journey."
"My journey?" January raised an eyebrow that Mr. Spock would be proud of. "You are being even more cryptic than usual.
"What manner of mentor should I be were I not?" Blood Raven extended a hand to January. "Come."
January stepped closer, and she felt mana once more flow through the sanctum. Blood Raven had activated the gateway she had inscribed into its floor. A magic circle of glowing Celtic runes sprang to life around them, rimming the pentagram that formed directly beneath their feet. As before, her blood called to it, the blood of both of them in fact. That was the key which unlocked the gateway after all.
A moment later they were standing within the Raven's Nest. The great black marble wall stretched up behind them. While before their eyes rose the tall French doors that looked out over Downtown. They did not remain however. An instant later Blood Raven activated the gateway a second time, and they found themselves at the bottom of a stairwell. January recognized it after a few moments. It was in the public parking structure next door.
She followed the other woman up the stairs and to the ground floor. The two of them walked past a car that was driving into the structure. For a moment January was afraid the driver might crash it into a concrete support pillar. But thankfully he reined in his surprise in time to avoid such a kinetic disaster.
They were out in the street a moment later. Being a Sunday morning there were few pedestrians around, those that were stopped and gawked at the pair of superheroines. As ever, January took a moment to wave. She was surprised to see that Blood Raven even cracked a smile.
"Walking around in public, smiling at people?" January stared at her mentor with amusement. "Ok, who are you, and what have done with the real Blood Raven?"
"I have been advised that I might perhaps be kinder to people." Blood Raven replied with studied nonchalance. "You were correct. They need to see us. They need to know we are here."
January felt the other woman gather up reality around her with magical fingers, and reshape it to suit her will. She was in the air and flying an instant later. January spread her wings and followed with a great leap. A chorus of cheers rose up underneath her, and she spared a glance back to see a dozen people all waving and taking pictures with their phones.
Blood Raven led them over the Compuware Building and Campus Martius. Then they threaded their way through a pair of old Art Deco skyscrapers, and soared past the Baroque masterpiece of the old Wayne County Building. She took a moment to appreciate the bronze sculptures that flanked its central tower and portico. Long since turned green with age, they depicted chariots drawn by angelic women, while even more such figures lined the tower's upper reaches, brandishing spears and other tools.
They dropped to earth immediately beyond. There were no grand old edifices here however, just a cluster of plain brick buildings. January recognized St. Andrews Hall. Blackjack's old band had played there before after all. Blood Raven led her past the ornate granite entrance of the hall, to a second building set directly beside its eastern wall, with no alley between the two. This one jutted farther out into the sidewalk, leaving no room for even a small crowd to gather there. A simple sign proclaiming it as a bar hung over the black awning. Otherwise there was nothing to distinguish the place.
Blood Raven stepped past the rental scooters parked on the sidewalk, and opened the thick, carved mahogany door. January followed. Her astral senses tingled the moment she crossed the threshold. She felt magic there, a barrier of sorts. Her eyes traced its contours, and followed them to the statue of a gargoyle that squatted just inside the doorway. Its great bulging eyes seemed to stare into January's soul. No, it stared into her aura. It was scanning her, testing her, like a magical security system.
"You sense the ward, good," Blood Raven murmured. "Your powers grow."
"It keeps out the riff raff." A voice came out from across the room. It was attached to one of the most stunning people January had ever seen. Their skin was soft sandalwood, and their straightened blond hair was pulled back and tied off with a silk bow. Their lips glistened, and their eyes were rimmed with a light dusting of black makeup. Several rings glinted from their fingers, and they were clad in white trousers that were held up by black suspenders. Over this they wore a long coat lined with buttons down either side. It was something straight from the Revolutionary War.
Beyond them stretched out the interior of the club. A long wooden bar ran the length of the left wall, and a row of bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling overhead. A row of small tables graced the opposite wall, with a narrow channel between for patrons to mingle. The back wall was filled with black and white photographs of old Detroit, and a small stage with a piano was set up in one corner. A pair of flatscreen televisions loomed in different corners of the long, rectangular room. These were turned off, and no celebrants occupied the space. It was Sunday morning after all. In fact, it was only the three of them within.
"Welcome to the Aura," the strangely-attired, and definitely gender-fluid, person greeted them. Their eyes locked with January's, and she felt herself almost blush as they reached out to take her hand. But rather than shake it; they turned her hand over, and bowed forward to gently kiss the back of it.
"I am Harper Esquire, co-proprietor." they declared. "My pronouns are she/her, they/them, he/him. I flow."
"So I see," January beamed. Harper possessed a magnetism that would have been difficult to ignore, even if one had wanted to. "It is my distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Stormcrow, my pronouns are she/her, or they/them really. Though I am still not sure what I am doing here."
January spared a glance to Blood Raven beside her.
"She didn't tell you?" Harper raised an eyebrow, and looked from January to her scarlet-maned companion. "Still leaning into the mysterious and aloof mentor role I see Blood Raven."
"It must come naturally Harper," Blood Raven nodded to the decidedly non-binary proprietor in reply. "When did you add the Esquire to your name?"
"The other week," they shrugged in response. "I just liked the sound of it."
Their host sauntered over to a nearby table, and gracefully perched upon one of the tall wooden chairs. They crossed their legs, showing off the tall, polished black boots that they wore. Again, these were nothing from a modern store. They looked like they might have come from an 18th Century cavalry officer's feet. January even noted the silver spurs that gleamed from the low heels.
"It suits you," January agreed. She followed Blood Raven to the table, and joined her in taking a seat.
Before January could ask a second time what this had to do with their investigation, a loud clatter came from the back of the room. All eyes turned to the stainless steel swinging door in the far wall. January imagined it might lead to a kitchen beyond. It sounded like pots and pans were being knocked together, underscored by the clacking of hard soles on a tile floor.
"Ahh, that would be my partner Kaelin." Harper's eyes lit up. January wondered if that meant partner in the business sense, or the personal one? Or both? "She has been just pining to meet you Stormcrow, enough to wake up before noon."
"They're here!" a voice rang out from across the room. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Another non-binary or trans - or both - person came stomping through the metal door. They held a tray full of drinks in their hand. Their light skin was dotted by a small mole under one corner of their thin lips. A handful of freckles likewise flecked their long features. Their eyes were liquid green, nearly blue, and a silver piercing ran though one of their long, narrow eyebrows, a match for the one that hung from their nose. Their hair was dyed a brilliant green, and stood up in a great shock, even as the sides of her head were shaved down to the scalp.
They were dressed in a blue sport coat, over a button down shirt that looked like it had been tye-dyed blue and white. A blue tie hung loosely from their neck. Their long legs were covered in dark tights, beneath a blue and white plaid skirt. A pair of chunky combat boots girded by shiny chains clonked on the floor with every step they took.
Like Harper, they were a blend of masculine and feminine, but in a vastly different way. Where the former's presentation was as an Old World chevalier, Kaelin was as punk as one could be without a Sex Pistols album cover tattooed on your forehead. January had to admit, she really admired both of their styles, and the courage it took to be so distinct and unique in presentation. Junior High School had taught her the dangers of standing out from the crowd like that.
"Well of course they are here sweetheart," Harper sighed. "The watch dog told you, just like it did me."
"But I was still trying to get ready!" Kaelin almost pouted. "I couldn't decide between the stilettos or the chain boots."
"The chains really work," January found herself saying without thinking. "It really goes with your look."
"You think so?" Kaelin stopped and ran a hand through their hair. "You don't think it's too much?"
"It's just right dear, as you always are," Harper smiled.
With that Kaelin clomped through the room to them. She set down the tray that she carried on the table between them, revealing four stoneware cups with an indistinct brown liquid floating within each. She plopped down on the final open chair, and spread out in a most unladylike fashion. The bejeweled fingers of one of Harper's hands instantly found their way to one bared knee, and gently caressed it.
"Oh hi!" the newcomer suddenly sprang up, as if remembering what they were doing. "I'm Kaelin. My pronouns are she/her, or they/them."
January shook her hand, a normal greeting this time, rather than an elaborate courtly ritual.
"I am so glad to finally meet you," Kaelin practically gushed. "Ever since you came on the scene, I was hoping you would come in to hang. And here you finally are!"
That's neat, how she works in the Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Spirit into her stretching. Elemental yoga.
Cool, let's see who she's about to meet.
Wow, so the gargoyle they pass by isn't just a statue. Holy [censored].
Gender fluid ... that's a new term for me. "Their hair was blonde, they got up from the chair.." It seems this is the best word in our English language, right? It is a little tough though, just because the word 'they' always sounds plural, like several people instead of one. But 'they' / 'their' sounds like it's the only word which fits.
Kaelin's awesome!
I hope Miss Crow has somebody new to spend time with, since that meanie Hannah turned out a disappointment. 
Cool, let's see who she's about to meet.
Wow, so the gargoyle they pass by isn't just a statue. Holy [censored].
Gender fluid ... that's a new term for me. "Their hair was blonde, they got up from the chair.." It seems this is the best word in our English language, right? It is a little tough though, just because the word 'they' always sounds plural, like several people instead of one. But 'they' / 'their' sounds like it's the only word which fits.
Kaelin's awesome!
I hope Miss Crow has somebody new to spend time with, since that meanie Hannah turned out a disappointment.
"What manner of mentor should I be were I not?"
- - As Blood Raven addresses the ‘cryptic’ accusation from January, the pure truth of this demanded quoting. She joins the ranks of Yoda, Mr Miagi and other mentors in this regard.
Like January is thinking, the encounter with this unusual pair raises more questions than answers. Looking forward to finding out how they fit in.
I do confess to being a bit lost in pronoun land and agree with Renee that my first thought upon each use of ‘they’ is plurality, not gender.
- - As Blood Raven addresses the ‘cryptic’ accusation from January, the pure truth of this demanded quoting. She joins the ranks of Yoda, Mr Miagi and other mentors in this regard.
Like January is thinking, the encounter with this unusual pair raises more questions than answers. Looking forward to finding out how they fit in.
I do confess to being a bit lost in pronoun land and agree with Renee that my first thought upon each use of ‘they’ is plurality, not gender.
I guess I should chime in to note that "they/them" is the most common gender-neutral pronoun in English. Yes, it has been sort of shoe-horned in there, because unlike many other societies that recognize 3rd, 4th, or more genders, English only does so with two. So it is often used in the Queer community as a blanket pronoun for everyone, or specifically for non-binary people like Harper and Kaelin. Of course what a person states is their preferred pronoun is most important over all. For some, that is indeed "Them". Because a lot of people are Non-Binary (or Enby, or Genderfluid, or Genderqueer, etc...), and don't feel like they fit into any of the convenient boxes provided for identifying oneself. That is why I introduced Harper and Kaelin. I wanted to spotlight another part of the Queer community at large. The world is a big tent, and I want people to be seen in my writing.
There are other recently created terms like "zhe". But almost no one outside of the Queer community has ever heard of them. So I have decided not to use them.
There are other recently created terms like "zhe". But almost no one outside of the Queer community has ever heard of them. So I have decided not to use them.
Sure, that's fine. I'd be open to zhe or any other pertinent terms which are not well known outside LGBT, but whatever you feel is best.
I imagine struggling with the pronouns is simply a part of being what you call gender-fluid or non-binary and you are reflecting that in your story. A new word like zhe might be the answer, but as you correctly surmise, I've never heard of it so your story may well be best off reflecting 'facts on the ground'. It does seem better than the other alternative (it) which is probably more associated with inanimate things.
I recently did a quest in ESO involving an adorable but unhappy juvenile beholder that Buffy (with some help) freed from Hermie Mora. The young beholder had the ability to shapeshift and was adopted into a troupe of stage performers. We get the impression that gender is irrelevant to beholders because this one was eventually named Dreamer, but was referred to only in gender neutral terms - primarily they. And I struggled a bit each time it was used remembering it was referring to this singular beholder.
Fun discussion regardless.
I recently did a quest in ESO involving an adorable but unhappy juvenile beholder that Buffy (with some help) freed from Hermie Mora. The young beholder had the ability to shapeshift and was adopted into a troupe of stage performers. We get the impression that gender is irrelevant to beholders because this one was eventually named Dreamer, but was referred to only in gender neutral terms - primarily they. And I struggled a bit each time it was used remembering it was referring to this singular beholder.
Fun discussion regardless.
Finished Book 4 last night!
So you weren't kidding when you called this place the Witch House. At least this version of Keziah seems to have been more benevolent than the one in HPL's story (also, is there a Brown Jenkins equivalent?). It makes for an interesting home, regardless.
I quite liked how the early chapters showed January going about her daily life. For me, what really sells a story with speculative/fantastical elements is whether or not I can imagine living in them as a normal person. Granted, the calculus is slightly different for a superhero story that takes place in our world, but the look at things like teaching about comics or going to a Pride parade still help reinforce that these are relatable people with lives outside of being a superhero. Which, from my understanding, is one of the reasons early Marvel resonated so strongly with readers (though I think DC also has heroes navigating their daily lives now?).
The djieien and Nátthrafn certainly took the story into a darker and more occult place. It ties in with Stormcrow's powers. I quite enjoyed how you wove Nátthrafn's story into actual history. Those kinds of things always engage me.
Lastly, I liked that nameless Freddy Mercury-looking guy who shot at the spider. It's always good to see random bystanders who actually step up to the plate, even if in his case it ended up not really accomplishing much.
So you weren't kidding when you called this place the Witch House. At least this version of Keziah seems to have been more benevolent than the one in HPL's story (also, is there a Brown Jenkins equivalent?). It makes for an interesting home, regardless.
I quite liked how the early chapters showed January going about her daily life. For me, what really sells a story with speculative/fantastical elements is whether or not I can imagine living in them as a normal person. Granted, the calculus is slightly different for a superhero story that takes place in our world, but the look at things like teaching about comics or going to a Pride parade still help reinforce that these are relatable people with lives outside of being a superhero. Which, from my understanding, is one of the reasons early Marvel resonated so strongly with readers (though I think DC also has heroes navigating their daily lives now?).
The djieien and Nátthrafn certainly took the story into a darker and more occult place. It ties in with Stormcrow's powers. I quite enjoyed how you wove Nátthrafn's story into actual history. Those kinds of things always engage me.
Lastly, I liked that nameless Freddy Mercury-looking guy who shot at the spider. It's always good to see random bystanders who actually step up to the plate, even if in his case it ended up not really accomplishing much.
Renee: The magical elements are a core part of January's magic. Her elemental mantra has always been a part of her practice. It is how she visualizes and applies her magic. She calls on air for lightning. She becomes water to dodge. She becomes earth to take a hit, etc...
January is going to meet a lot of new people, and make a lot of new friends, this book.
Acadian: Blood Raven is very Self Aware when it comes to being a magical mentor. There are traditions to be upheld after all! Plus some things people have to experience and learn themselves, with only a little prodding in the right direction from a teacher.
WellTemperedClavier: As you noted, the Witch House and Keziah are borrowed from HP Lovecraft. In a way, so is the big bad and meta plot for Season One. January's last name is Ward, because she was going to be a descendant of Charles Dexter Ward, and big bad would be Joseph Curwen. I eventually decided to ditch almost all of the Lovecraft elements however, and it worked out much better. I only really held on to the idea of a wizard constantly cheating death through his descendants.
Blood Raven's old teacher Keziah is definitely a much more benevolent figure. She does not have a Brown Jenkin (at least not yet). But she make play a role in the distant future. I envision a Season based on January traveling through times and alternate universes, trying to get back home to her own time and earth, and I think Keziah might play a role in that.
I spend a lot of time trying to make sure there is ordinary life going on in the middle of all the super madness, because I don't want to lose track of that tie to the 'real' world. That's the main role her friends like the Knights of Nerddom play, and January's mother, who I see playing a larger role in Season Two. As you noted, I want this to feel more like Spider-Man or the new Ms Marvel (Kamala Khan) than Batman or Superman. In fact, being part of the world and the community is something January herself is constantly striving for.
Writing the history about Nátthrafn was difficult, as I did not want to do a big, boring infodump. So I tried to pepper it with a lot of side talk that I hoped would make the conversation feel natural, rather than a history lesson. If this was television or film I would do a montage of these events with Blood Raven narrating a voice over, like the prologue in Fellowship of the Ring. I briefly thought of actually writing it all out from Nátthrafn's pov. But felt it would just get too big and unwieldy. I think that could turn into a novel all of its own.
Weaving in real history, people, and things is one of the things I learned from Lovecraft. He used to love to pepper his own homemade magic books like the Necromonicon in with real books and writers, like Elphias Levi and Borellus. It makes the original material feel more real, because it is surrounded by so many real things. So I went out of my way to use as much real history as I could, with things like Gottskalk Nikulausson the Cruel, the Rauðskinna, Heinrich Kramer, Kelpius, the Public Universal Friend, John Hancock, Jack Parsons, etc... It was also a lot of fun weaving all of them into the story. I learned a lot just doing research.
And I did want someone like Freddy Mercury to be there to throw down, even though he's an ordinary person. This story needs to be about ordinary people as well as super ones. The actions of each effect the other.
Papa Legba
Book 9.6 - Ashes
"I seem to really not understand anything at all this morning," January found herself saying, as she glanced to Blood Raven.
"No one told you?" Harper looked between them and sighed. Finally she settled her eyes upon Blood Raven. "Really, it took you this long? Are you afraid we will corrupt your precious protégé?"
"Pray that you never meet what I fear..." Blood Raven intoned gravely.
"Oh don't mind them," Kaelin waved a hand. "It's the unspoken sexual tension between them."
Harper laughed out loud at that, and took a sip of their drink. Blood Raven allowed a tiny smile to crease her lips. Somehow January did not think the tension between them came from that. At least Blood Raven had never given her reason to think that she was ever so... adventurous. In fact, when it came to sex, the other heroine seemed nearly Puritanical. That was not surprising, given that she was born in the 1700s after all.
On the other hand, her mentor had a tendency to rub people the wrong way. For the past fifty years, she had been Detroit's lone hero, with the emphasis on lone. Sure, she had occasionally teamed up with other capes such as Blackhawk. But those were always temporary affairs. January had come to suspect that she deliberately created walls of friction to keep people at a distance. Such as the first time she had met Lighthammer, and refused to shake his hand, or even engage with him.
Was that a byproduct of being two and a half centuries old? How many friends had she made, only to watch them die? Was immortality a blessing, or a curse? Or was she simply a misanthrope at heart?
"The Aura is Detroit's magic club," Harper's voice pulled January from her musings. "Usually every city has at least one. It's where we magicians come to meet, and play, and argue, and relax. Cameras won't work here, unless we want them to. So you can let your magic flag fly here."
"So it's only magicians then?" January glanced back to the gargoyle at the door. Now she understood its purpose. It was not only a ward, such as those that guarded the Witch House. She imagined that it also weeded out the mages from the mundanes.
"And guests who are in the know," Kaelin offered. "Otherwise we'd never come close to filling the place."
She picked up a goblet, and took a drink herself. Then she stared back at January and Blood Raven.
"It's not poison, honest!"
Blood Raven stared down at the cup, then took a polite sip. January looked at hers as well. She remembered the one sip of beer she had had at Emilia Mercado's house. That had sent her head spinning. At the time she had thought she simply lacked a resistance to alcohol. But her encounter with the oniare had revealed that she could not resist any toxins.
"I don't really drink," January said diplomatically. "It doesn't agree with me."
"What, you think we're getting liquored up at 10am on a Sunday morning?" Kaelin laughed. "It's my hangover cure, just the thing after a long Saturday night."
January thought for a moment, then took the plunge and lifted the stone vessel to her lips. She took a tentative sip, and found that the brew was thick, creamy, sweet, and slid down her throat as gently as silk. It sort of reminded her of a root beer float, except without the pop. She took another, deeper drink, and finally set the goblet down before her with an appreciative look.
"That's good," she declared. "I mean, that's really good. What's in it?"
"Oh a little eye of newt, tongue of bat, that sort of thing," Kaelin said breezily. But January could see that in spite of her nonchalant air, her eyes glittered with pride. "A girl has to keep her secrets after all."
"Kaelin here is our resident alchemist," Harper practically bragged. "She's the best in the state. She runs our microbrewery, and makes our patented Witches Brew."
"She created the Powder of Mahd al-Aadiyya that I distributed to the team." Blood Raven nodded to the transpunk woman. Now she finally did take a polite sip of her drink. "I should never have found the time to do so myself."
"I never did that in a grenade before," Kaelin blushed. "Thanks again for showing me how to do that."
"Think nothing of it," Blood Raven looked from her to her partner. "Harper is quite right. Of all my students, your talents in the alchemical arts are unparalleled. You surpassed what I could teach in that arena long ago. You have much to be proud of. Your work prevented the Summoner from escaping Gull Island. It may yet prove the undoing of the Hierophant as well."
"Yeah, don't mention that," Kaelin suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I mean that, don't. It's not something I'm proud of."
"We understand that," January said before Blood Raven could respond. She also had to fight down the urge to cock an eyebrow in surprise. Kaelin was a former student of Blood Raven's? That made her wonder just how many young magicians she had shepherded throughout the centuries. Now that she considered it, she imagined it might be quite a few. Her mentor was always filled with surprises.
"We aren't proud of the Summoner's death either," January went on. "None of us like it. But the fact is both he and his master insured their own deaths when they began their crusade. Even without us, it will kill them in the end. This horror from beyond time will kill us all if we don't stop it."
"Is it really that bad?" Harper looked between the women.
"It is worse," Blood Raven said. "If my father, yes, my father, returns to this world, I do not know if I can stop him. I did once before. But that was seventy years ago. His spirit grows in power in the Abyss. If he is to return, he shall be ready for me. There may be no defeating him a second time."
"So the Creatures of the Abyss, they are real then?" Kaelin asked. "I mean really real."
"As real as that djieien at Ferndale Pride, and the oniare at Jobbie Nooner," January replied.
"What was it like, facing one," now it was Harper's turn to ask. "We only know what we read, and you never know what to believe in old books."
"It's not just a monster," January said. "That part is easy. Being around it, just being around that book that summons them, it turns your stomach, puts your skin on edge. It's like the sound of fingernails on a blackboard. It is just the... wrongness of it all. It doesn't belong in our universe, and you can feel that. It is like the thing just being here is changing our world, warping it, corrupting it somehow with its malign will."
"So how can anyone summon one?" Kaelin blanched. "It sounds awful."
"Not all have that reaction to them," Blood Raven said quietly. "To some, they beckon. They whisper secrets of power and transcendence. For those mired in a world of grim, lightless mundanity - one whose ability to see beauty and joy is lost - they are a beacon. They are a glimpse of more than just a life of gray waking, gray working, gray eating, and gray sleeping. For an instant they transcend the banality of inane reality, and glimpse something fantastic beyond. A limitless multiverse of possibilities calls to them. Then the Abyssal is gone, and they are dashed down to the bleakness of ordinary reality once more. They will do anything to chase that ineffable feeling of joy and horror they once felt in the presence of the Abyss."
"They sound like heroin addicts," Kaelin mused.
"They are much the same," Blood Raven said. "It is what makes them most dangerous. They cannot see the evil before them. Their eyes are blinded by the glamour. Only too late do they learn the truth, that they are nothing but fresh meat."
"That was my great-grandfather Jack then," January thought aloud. "I never could understand why he summoned them. He sounded like a really wild - but basically decent - guy."
"Jack was much like Harper, a free spirit, who refused to be bound by earthly constraints." Blood Raven nodded. "He dreamed great dreams. Dreams our world could not contain. Unlike you Harper, he was never satisfied with what he found on Earth. No love could sate him, no mystery could elude him, no simple joy could bring him warmth. I saw all of this too late to stop him, or save him from himself."
Harper said nothing in reply. Instead they looked at Kaelin. They leaned over and planted a deep, passionate kiss upon their partner's lips. It was one which Kaelin clearly reciprocated, given how her hands slid about the back of Harper's uniform jacket.
January looked away, and cleared her throat loudly. Public displays of affection were indeed uncomfortable, when you were not the one being affected. She remembered Hannah, and how she had kissed her. She could almost still taste her lipstick, and smell her lavender and hyssop body wash...
Harper leaned back again, clearly quite pleased with themself. Or perhaps quite relieved? Kaelin however, appeared to be as flustered as her partner was nonchalant. She spent several moments wiping at non-existent lipstick stains around her mouth.
"As I mentioned before, Kaelin has been looking forward to meeting you for some time Stormcrow." Harper spoke as if nothing notable had occurred. "She even has a Stormcrow T-shirt."
"As if you do not have one too!" Kaelin stuck her tongue out at her lover, before turning to January. "I do have a nice top with a picture of you on it. I can't say how much it means to me, you being out. You being Out, and out there, in front of everyone. I wish there had been someone like you when I was in school. It would have helped so much, just knowing I wasn't the only one who was different, and that it was ok to be that way. If it hadn't been for my magic, and Blood Raven, I don't know what I would have done."
"I wish there had been someone like you when I was in school," January replied evenly. "Like either of you. I have never been so brave, to stand out like you do and be noticed."
"Well, you certainly stand out now," Harper noted.
"That's different," January shook her head. "I'm older now, wiser. More fed up with being afraid of what other people think. Now I realize that I have to be the person whom I needed when I was younger. That's the hardest part of all this. Not the fighting. Not the Abyssals. Just being the person people need, even if it's not the one they want. Especially when it's not the one they want."
"But I don't think that is why you brought me here, is it Blood Raven?" January turned to face her red-haired partner.
"It was time you met others in the community," Blood Raven insisted. She nodded to Harper. "It just so happens that this particular member can send you to Mr. Blackwood. He has something for you."
"Mr. Blackwood? You mean my new suit's done?" January could not restrain a grin. "Already? That's great! But wasn't he going to send it?"
"As I said, it is time you met others in the community," Blood Raven repeated. "Besides, I thought you might like to take a few hours to get away from it all, and enjoy the tropics."
"The tropics?" January lifted an eyebrow. "Where does he live?"
"The Virgin Islands," Harper replied. "I can get you to St.Thomas. We go down there for Carnival every year. You will have to make your way from there."
"Wow, like the Caribbean?" January could not contain her smile. "Blue seas, white sands, pirates, all that?"
"Hopefully no robots or ninjas to go with those pirates," Kaelin murmured.
"That was our last trip..." Harper mused.
"Ok, so how do we do this?" January stood up, and looked around. "Do you teleport?"
"I can do the next best thing." Harper rose to their feet, and strode out into the empty space between the tables and the bar. January felt mana rise hot and bright within them. They began to sing in something that sounded French. But January could not be sure. Then they started to dance a moment later, their body swaying to the beat they created with their voice.
Golden light streaked out from behind their arms and legs. They whirled around the floor, and wove these patterns of light into an intricate symbol. January quickly recognized it, at least in general. It was a Veve, from Vodun. The Summoner and Hierophant had used similar symbology in the Ferndale summoning. This however, felt much more wholesome than the work of their enemies. In fact, it was downright beautiful. In time January recognized stars and leaves, and solar crosses amongst the graceful curves of the design. It was the sigil of Papa Legba, the Opener of the Ways.
Then the glowing sigil dissolved, and with it the world around it. The floor of the bar vanished. In its place lay a different set of floorboards, these faded and weathered, as if from the sun. A hot breeze blew in from the empty space, and January could swear she could hear cloth flapping, like a flag waving in the breeze.
She expected to see an outline of energy marking off the edges of the portal. But in this case, that was not the case. There was nothing bright or showy at all. Here simply ended and there began, with no clear demarcation between the two. She could see mountains in the distance, covered with green trees, and dotted with white homes. She took a few steps around to see the portal from a different angle, and the background changed, revealing a wide bay filled with ships.
"That is dope!" January breathed.
"I have just sent you the GPS coordinates to Blackwood's estate." Blood Raven looked up from her wrist computer. As if conjured by her words, Sága dinged to acknowledge that she had received the message. "He shall be expecting you."
"Ok, and thank you. Thank you for all of this."
January stepped onto the new floor, and found herself in another world.
January is going to meet a lot of new people, and make a lot of new friends, this book.
Acadian: Blood Raven is very Self Aware when it comes to being a magical mentor. There are traditions to be upheld after all! Plus some things people have to experience and learn themselves, with only a little prodding in the right direction from a teacher.
WellTemperedClavier: As you noted, the Witch House and Keziah are borrowed from HP Lovecraft. In a way, so is the big bad and meta plot for Season One. January's last name is Ward, because she was going to be a descendant of Charles Dexter Ward, and big bad would be Joseph Curwen. I eventually decided to ditch almost all of the Lovecraft elements however, and it worked out much better. I only really held on to the idea of a wizard constantly cheating death through his descendants.
Blood Raven's old teacher Keziah is definitely a much more benevolent figure. She does not have a Brown Jenkin (at least not yet). But she make play a role in the distant future. I envision a Season based on January traveling through times and alternate universes, trying to get back home to her own time and earth, and I think Keziah might play a role in that.
I spend a lot of time trying to make sure there is ordinary life going on in the middle of all the super madness, because I don't want to lose track of that tie to the 'real' world. That's the main role her friends like the Knights of Nerddom play, and January's mother, who I see playing a larger role in Season Two. As you noted, I want this to feel more like Spider-Man or the new Ms Marvel (Kamala Khan) than Batman or Superman. In fact, being part of the world and the community is something January herself is constantly striving for.
Writing the history about Nátthrafn was difficult, as I did not want to do a big, boring infodump. So I tried to pepper it with a lot of side talk that I hoped would make the conversation feel natural, rather than a history lesson. If this was television or film I would do a montage of these events with Blood Raven narrating a voice over, like the prologue in Fellowship of the Ring. I briefly thought of actually writing it all out from Nátthrafn's pov. But felt it would just get too big and unwieldy. I think that could turn into a novel all of its own.
Weaving in real history, people, and things is one of the things I learned from Lovecraft. He used to love to pepper his own homemade magic books like the Necromonicon in with real books and writers, like Elphias Levi and Borellus. It makes the original material feel more real, because it is surrounded by so many real things. So I went out of my way to use as much real history as I could, with things like Gottskalk Nikulausson the Cruel, the Rauðskinna, Heinrich Kramer, Kelpius, the Public Universal Friend, John Hancock, Jack Parsons, etc... It was also a lot of fun weaving all of them into the story. I learned a lot just doing research.
And I did want someone like Freddy Mercury to be there to throw down, even though he's an ordinary person. This story needs to be about ordinary people as well as super ones. The actions of each effect the other.
Papa Legba
Book 9.6 - Ashes
"I seem to really not understand anything at all this morning," January found herself saying, as she glanced to Blood Raven.
"No one told you?" Harper looked between them and sighed. Finally she settled her eyes upon Blood Raven. "Really, it took you this long? Are you afraid we will corrupt your precious protégé?"
"Pray that you never meet what I fear..." Blood Raven intoned gravely.
"Oh don't mind them," Kaelin waved a hand. "It's the unspoken sexual tension between them."
Harper laughed out loud at that, and took a sip of their drink. Blood Raven allowed a tiny smile to crease her lips. Somehow January did not think the tension between them came from that. At least Blood Raven had never given her reason to think that she was ever so... adventurous. In fact, when it came to sex, the other heroine seemed nearly Puritanical. That was not surprising, given that she was born in the 1700s after all.
On the other hand, her mentor had a tendency to rub people the wrong way. For the past fifty years, she had been Detroit's lone hero, with the emphasis on lone. Sure, she had occasionally teamed up with other capes such as Blackhawk. But those were always temporary affairs. January had come to suspect that she deliberately created walls of friction to keep people at a distance. Such as the first time she had met Lighthammer, and refused to shake his hand, or even engage with him.
Was that a byproduct of being two and a half centuries old? How many friends had she made, only to watch them die? Was immortality a blessing, or a curse? Or was she simply a misanthrope at heart?
"The Aura is Detroit's magic club," Harper's voice pulled January from her musings. "Usually every city has at least one. It's where we magicians come to meet, and play, and argue, and relax. Cameras won't work here, unless we want them to. So you can let your magic flag fly here."
"So it's only magicians then?" January glanced back to the gargoyle at the door. Now she understood its purpose. It was not only a ward, such as those that guarded the Witch House. She imagined that it also weeded out the mages from the mundanes.
"And guests who are in the know," Kaelin offered. "Otherwise we'd never come close to filling the place."
She picked up a goblet, and took a drink herself. Then she stared back at January and Blood Raven.
"It's not poison, honest!"
Blood Raven stared down at the cup, then took a polite sip. January looked at hers as well. She remembered the one sip of beer she had had at Emilia Mercado's house. That had sent her head spinning. At the time she had thought she simply lacked a resistance to alcohol. But her encounter with the oniare had revealed that she could not resist any toxins.
"I don't really drink," January said diplomatically. "It doesn't agree with me."
"What, you think we're getting liquored up at 10am on a Sunday morning?" Kaelin laughed. "It's my hangover cure, just the thing after a long Saturday night."
January thought for a moment, then took the plunge and lifted the stone vessel to her lips. She took a tentative sip, and found that the brew was thick, creamy, sweet, and slid down her throat as gently as silk. It sort of reminded her of a root beer float, except without the pop. She took another, deeper drink, and finally set the goblet down before her with an appreciative look.
"That's good," she declared. "I mean, that's really good. What's in it?"
"Oh a little eye of newt, tongue of bat, that sort of thing," Kaelin said breezily. But January could see that in spite of her nonchalant air, her eyes glittered with pride. "A girl has to keep her secrets after all."
"Kaelin here is our resident alchemist," Harper practically bragged. "She's the best in the state. She runs our microbrewery, and makes our patented Witches Brew."
"She created the Powder of Mahd al-Aadiyya that I distributed to the team." Blood Raven nodded to the transpunk woman. Now she finally did take a polite sip of her drink. "I should never have found the time to do so myself."
"I never did that in a grenade before," Kaelin blushed. "Thanks again for showing me how to do that."
"Think nothing of it," Blood Raven looked from her to her partner. "Harper is quite right. Of all my students, your talents in the alchemical arts are unparalleled. You surpassed what I could teach in that arena long ago. You have much to be proud of. Your work prevented the Summoner from escaping Gull Island. It may yet prove the undoing of the Hierophant as well."
"Yeah, don't mention that," Kaelin suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I mean that, don't. It's not something I'm proud of."
"We understand that," January said before Blood Raven could respond. She also had to fight down the urge to cock an eyebrow in surprise. Kaelin was a former student of Blood Raven's? That made her wonder just how many young magicians she had shepherded throughout the centuries. Now that she considered it, she imagined it might be quite a few. Her mentor was always filled with surprises.
"We aren't proud of the Summoner's death either," January went on. "None of us like it. But the fact is both he and his master insured their own deaths when they began their crusade. Even without us, it will kill them in the end. This horror from beyond time will kill us all if we don't stop it."
"Is it really that bad?" Harper looked between the women.
"It is worse," Blood Raven said. "If my father, yes, my father, returns to this world, I do not know if I can stop him. I did once before. But that was seventy years ago. His spirit grows in power in the Abyss. If he is to return, he shall be ready for me. There may be no defeating him a second time."
"So the Creatures of the Abyss, they are real then?" Kaelin asked. "I mean really real."
"As real as that djieien at Ferndale Pride, and the oniare at Jobbie Nooner," January replied.
"What was it like, facing one," now it was Harper's turn to ask. "We only know what we read, and you never know what to believe in old books."
"It's not just a monster," January said. "That part is easy. Being around it, just being around that book that summons them, it turns your stomach, puts your skin on edge. It's like the sound of fingernails on a blackboard. It is just the... wrongness of it all. It doesn't belong in our universe, and you can feel that. It is like the thing just being here is changing our world, warping it, corrupting it somehow with its malign will."
"So how can anyone summon one?" Kaelin blanched. "It sounds awful."
"Not all have that reaction to them," Blood Raven said quietly. "To some, they beckon. They whisper secrets of power and transcendence. For those mired in a world of grim, lightless mundanity - one whose ability to see beauty and joy is lost - they are a beacon. They are a glimpse of more than just a life of gray waking, gray working, gray eating, and gray sleeping. For an instant they transcend the banality of inane reality, and glimpse something fantastic beyond. A limitless multiverse of possibilities calls to them. Then the Abyssal is gone, and they are dashed down to the bleakness of ordinary reality once more. They will do anything to chase that ineffable feeling of joy and horror they once felt in the presence of the Abyss."
"They sound like heroin addicts," Kaelin mused.
"They are much the same," Blood Raven said. "It is what makes them most dangerous. They cannot see the evil before them. Their eyes are blinded by the glamour. Only too late do they learn the truth, that they are nothing but fresh meat."
"That was my great-grandfather Jack then," January thought aloud. "I never could understand why he summoned them. He sounded like a really wild - but basically decent - guy."
"Jack was much like Harper, a free spirit, who refused to be bound by earthly constraints." Blood Raven nodded. "He dreamed great dreams. Dreams our world could not contain. Unlike you Harper, he was never satisfied with what he found on Earth. No love could sate him, no mystery could elude him, no simple joy could bring him warmth. I saw all of this too late to stop him, or save him from himself."
Harper said nothing in reply. Instead they looked at Kaelin. They leaned over and planted a deep, passionate kiss upon their partner's lips. It was one which Kaelin clearly reciprocated, given how her hands slid about the back of Harper's uniform jacket.
January looked away, and cleared her throat loudly. Public displays of affection were indeed uncomfortable, when you were not the one being affected. She remembered Hannah, and how she had kissed her. She could almost still taste her lipstick, and smell her lavender and hyssop body wash...
Harper leaned back again, clearly quite pleased with themself. Or perhaps quite relieved? Kaelin however, appeared to be as flustered as her partner was nonchalant. She spent several moments wiping at non-existent lipstick stains around her mouth.
"As I mentioned before, Kaelin has been looking forward to meeting you for some time Stormcrow." Harper spoke as if nothing notable had occurred. "She even has a Stormcrow T-shirt."
"As if you do not have one too!" Kaelin stuck her tongue out at her lover, before turning to January. "I do have a nice top with a picture of you on it. I can't say how much it means to me, you being out. You being Out, and out there, in front of everyone. I wish there had been someone like you when I was in school. It would have helped so much, just knowing I wasn't the only one who was different, and that it was ok to be that way. If it hadn't been for my magic, and Blood Raven, I don't know what I would have done."
"I wish there had been someone like you when I was in school," January replied evenly. "Like either of you. I have never been so brave, to stand out like you do and be noticed."
"Well, you certainly stand out now," Harper noted.
"That's different," January shook her head. "I'm older now, wiser. More fed up with being afraid of what other people think. Now I realize that I have to be the person whom I needed when I was younger. That's the hardest part of all this. Not the fighting. Not the Abyssals. Just being the person people need, even if it's not the one they want. Especially when it's not the one they want."
"But I don't think that is why you brought me here, is it Blood Raven?" January turned to face her red-haired partner.
"It was time you met others in the community," Blood Raven insisted. She nodded to Harper. "It just so happens that this particular member can send you to Mr. Blackwood. He has something for you."
"Mr. Blackwood? You mean my new suit's done?" January could not restrain a grin. "Already? That's great! But wasn't he going to send it?"
"As I said, it is time you met others in the community," Blood Raven repeated. "Besides, I thought you might like to take a few hours to get away from it all, and enjoy the tropics."
"The tropics?" January lifted an eyebrow. "Where does he live?"
"The Virgin Islands," Harper replied. "I can get you to St.Thomas. We go down there for Carnival every year. You will have to make your way from there."
"Wow, like the Caribbean?" January could not contain her smile. "Blue seas, white sands, pirates, all that?"
"Hopefully no robots or ninjas to go with those pirates," Kaelin murmured.
"That was our last trip..." Harper mused.
"Ok, so how do we do this?" January stood up, and looked around. "Do you teleport?"
"I can do the next best thing." Harper rose to their feet, and strode out into the empty space between the tables and the bar. January felt mana rise hot and bright within them. They began to sing in something that sounded French. But January could not be sure. Then they started to dance a moment later, their body swaying to the beat they created with their voice.
Golden light streaked out from behind their arms and legs. They whirled around the floor, and wove these patterns of light into an intricate symbol. January quickly recognized it, at least in general. It was a Veve, from Vodun. The Summoner and Hierophant had used similar symbology in the Ferndale summoning. This however, felt much more wholesome than the work of their enemies. In fact, it was downright beautiful. In time January recognized stars and leaves, and solar crosses amongst the graceful curves of the design. It was the sigil of Papa Legba, the Opener of the Ways.
Then the glowing sigil dissolved, and with it the world around it. The floor of the bar vanished. In its place lay a different set of floorboards, these faded and weathered, as if from the sun. A hot breeze blew in from the empty space, and January could swear she could hear cloth flapping, like a flag waving in the breeze.
She expected to see an outline of energy marking off the edges of the portal. But in this case, that was not the case. There was nothing bright or showy at all. Here simply ended and there began, with no clear demarcation between the two. She could see mountains in the distance, covered with green trees, and dotted with white homes. She took a few steps around to see the portal from a different angle, and the background changed, revealing a wide bay filled with ships.
"That is dope!" January breathed.
"I have just sent you the GPS coordinates to Blackwood's estate." Blood Raven looked up from her wrist computer. As if conjured by her words, Sága dinged to acknowledge that she had received the message. "He shall be expecting you."
"Ok, and thank you. Thank you for all of this."
January stepped onto the new floor, and found herself in another world.
"Pray that you never meet what I fear..." Blood Raven intoned gravely.’
- - Another wonderfully evocative Blood Raven quote!
Plenty of questions – and some more answers about Blood Raven’s past. Prior proteges and members for her extended coven.
And how handy that Harper knows floorportal magick!
So, it’s off to the Caribbean! And, it seems like the Stromcrow’s costume 2.0 may be ready.
Nit: ‘January though {thought} for a moment, then took the plunge and lifted the stone vessel to her lips.’
- - Another wonderfully evocative Blood Raven quote!
Plenty of questions – and some more answers about Blood Raven’s past. Prior proteges and members for her extended coven.
And how handy that Harper knows floorportal magick!
So, it’s off to the Caribbean! And, it seems like the Stromcrow’s costume 2.0 may be ready.
Nit: ‘January though {thought} for a moment, then took the plunge and lifted the stone vessel to her lips.’
QUOTE(WellTemperedClavier @ May 10 2022, 03:25 PM) 
So you weren't kidding when you called this place the Witch House.
It's a fantastic place, right? Raven's hidden condo is awesome, too. So much imagination there.
I think with Raven she does remain aloof on purpose. Maybe it's the life & times she was born & raised, although I think it's probably more than that. That could be a clue, the "how many friends had she made..." So yeah, social courtesies are not really top of the list for her.
The concept of the Aura sounds neat. Let your magic fly.
Yeah, let's see them try to disturb us with your camera-phones now! Raven's sermons during this chapter are captivating.
Uh oh... Dang. Oh well. Seems Jan's still on her own.
But at least she's taking a trip away from all that. The end is really unexpected. Virgin Islands, wow. QUOTE
"That is dope!" January breathed.
Lol
Caught up and finished Book 5.
I guess PR's always been a pretty important aspect of being a superhero. Social media may have intensified it--but Superman and Spiderman and others both had to make sure the cameras were on them (and given their RL careers, both had some advantages with it).
January handles her image in a really canny way. I love how so much of this is a balancing act. She wants to maintain a good relationship with the police, but she also knows there are enough bad cops in the DPD to make that risky. Blood Raven's an obvious ally, but she's also isolated and standoffish enough that her presence somewhat limits Stormcrow's public persona.
On some level, Stormcrow might find Blood Raven's style safer. But she also knows that's not her. It seems like a big part of Stormcrow's quest is to get the world to accept her on her own terms. You can't do that in isolation, however.
Fortunately, Blood Raven seems willing to go along with Stormcrow to some extent. She seems more inclined to introversion, but being an introvert doesn't mean you don't need people--it just means you recharge better on your own. So I think this is a happy case of the two characters helping each other.
I don't have as much to say Lighthammer, since I'm still trying to figure him out (along with January). Again, it seems like she's trying to make a connection with as many different types as possible. Lighthammer's got some baggage, sure, but so far he seems to be on the side of the angels.
I guess the risk is always that January ends up spreading herself too thin. As it is, the different factions she's dealt with seem to like her, but her loyalty to any of them hasn't really been tested. Now, the advantage of not being too embedded with a group means that you can cut ties if that group turns out problematic. The drawback is that doing this too often might get one labeled as inconstant or unreliable.
The drug-induced superpowers thing is an angle I've seen, but that's not a bad thing. You handled it well. The parallel with fascism (in that it ultimately corrodes and destroys itself) is pretty clear.
I guess PR's always been a pretty important aspect of being a superhero. Social media may have intensified it--but Superman and Spiderman and others both had to make sure the cameras were on them (and given their RL careers, both had some advantages with it).
January handles her image in a really canny way. I love how so much of this is a balancing act. She wants to maintain a good relationship with the police, but she also knows there are enough bad cops in the DPD to make that risky. Blood Raven's an obvious ally, but she's also isolated and standoffish enough that her presence somewhat limits Stormcrow's public persona.
On some level, Stormcrow might find Blood Raven's style safer. But she also knows that's not her. It seems like a big part of Stormcrow's quest is to get the world to accept her on her own terms. You can't do that in isolation, however.
Fortunately, Blood Raven seems willing to go along with Stormcrow to some extent. She seems more inclined to introversion, but being an introvert doesn't mean you don't need people--it just means you recharge better on your own. So I think this is a happy case of the two characters helping each other.
I don't have as much to say Lighthammer, since I'm still trying to figure him out (along with January). Again, it seems like she's trying to make a connection with as many different types as possible. Lighthammer's got some baggage, sure, but so far he seems to be on the side of the angels.
I guess the risk is always that January ends up spreading herself too thin. As it is, the different factions she's dealt with seem to like her, but her loyalty to any of them hasn't really been tested. Now, the advantage of not being too embedded with a group means that you can cut ties if that group turns out problematic. The drawback is that doing this too often might get one labeled as inconstant or unreliable.
The drug-induced superpowers thing is an angle I've seen, but that's not a bad thing. You handled it well. The parallel with fascism (in that it ultimately corrodes and destroys itself) is pretty clear.
Acadian: I just finished the first draft of Book 10. We get to meet what Blood Raven fears in it.
It turns out that Blood Raven has quite a few former students like January. We are going to get to meet all these Daughters of the Raven in this and the next book. They make for a pretty awesome team.
January goes international! This is definitely the farthest she has ever been from home. And probably will be for some time.
Thanks for finding that nit for me.
Renee: Blood Raven has known a lot of people in her 250 years, and has watched every single one of them die. That, and just the reality of being a super makes her prone to avoid adding more friends to the list of those she will someday watch die as well.
Hopefully I will be able to use the Aura in the future. You never can tell what seeds you plant as a writer will sprout and which will never go anywhere. I liked the idea of a mage hangout, especially given how many there are now in the story.
It is very dope.
WellTemperedClavier: I have to think back to Book 5 and what was going on in that one. It is one of my favorites, because in it January finally gets her wings, figuratively and literally. She really comes into her own in that book, and the alliances she has made so far have begun to bear fruit, as she teams up with both Blood Raven and Lighthammer, with some informational assistance from Trooper Mercado.
I liked your references to Supes and Spidey, and how they used their super personas in the media to help them in their personal lives. In Jan's case it there is more too it. One simply because of her era. Everyone has a video camera in their pocket these days with a constant link to the internet, so she is constantly being recorded and streamed. Plus social media and virtual spaces are a very real part of the world she lives in. She is young enough to never know a time without them. So being present in that world is as important to her as it is in the physical one. Because what happens there directly affects the world we all live in.
I definitely meant that self-destructive comparison between the killer drug and the neo-nazis. It started with me thinking on who would want to take something like that. I thought of the nazis who harassed Motor City Pride (which happened IRL just a few months before I wrote the book), and I had it.
As always Charlotte Amalie East and Blackwood's Villa can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map
Blackbeard's Tower
Explore Charlotte Amalie
Caribbean Crow Call
Blackwood's Estate 1 (RL Villa Katsura)
Blackwood's Estate 2
Blackwood's Estate 3
Blackwood's Estate 4
Jean-Paul (RL Hugo Philip)
Book 9.7 - Ashes
January found herself standing atop a round stone tower that looked like it might have jumped out of any sword and sandal movie, or fantasy role-playing game. The brown stones of the walls were a jumble of sizes and shapes rather than of uniform brick. But the masonry all melded into a smooth, curved surface that wrapped up in a tall cylinder. The floor upon which she stood was of smooth wood. A flagpole rose up from the center of the space, hosting a green banner that bore a woman in a white dress and golden sandals. She held a golden lamp in one hand, and was flanked by a pair of golden eagles.
That reminded January that she was no longer in the United States. She was literally in another country. The Virgin Islands had gained their independence from both the UK and US decades before of course, and had reunified into a single, sovereign nation. She hoped that no one would ask to see her passport, given that she did not have one.
Around her stretched out a resort of white-washed buildings with bright red-tiled rooftops. A long swimming pool stretched out in one direction. To another was a broad lane flanked by palm trees, with a giant statue of a pirate in its center. People milled around the street below and frolicked in the pool. January heard the click of a camera, and turned to see a group of what could only be tourists standing atop the roof with her, pointing their phones her way.
January smiled and gave them a wave. Then she leaped into the firmament. Around her a city stretched out along the side of a long, forested ridge. The higher up one went, the thinner and thinner the red-roofed abodes became. She circled lazily around the town, and drifted down toward the sea. Along the way she found herself passing over a glorious statue of three women brandishing torches and lanterns as if to light the way for others.
The buildings became more dense here, and were tightly packed together by the time she reached the harbor. The natural bay spread out like the arms of an embracing giant, leaving only a wide channel to enter or leave between the two "hands" of the outstretched arms of land. She also noted a narrow channel at the base of one of the "shoulders". That made it an island blocking off half the bay, rather than a true promontory of land. But the result was the same: a lagoon of calm water that lay at the feet of the city.
The bay was filled with vessels. There were tiny rowboats and little sailboats, and great pleasure yachts that must cost more money than most people could ever earn in a lifetime. Three massive cruise ships that were practically floating cities in their own rights were tied up to a long dock on the left side of the harbor. The water itself was a soft and ever so inviting shade of turquoise that practically glowed under the summer sun. Farther out the open sea stretched away in deepening hues of blue.
It was paradise.
January pulled herself skyward once more, and soared up to the crest of what was either a tall hill or a low mountain that flanked the eastern side of the harbor. She could tell the direction by the position of the sun overhead, which was still hours from climbing to its zenith. She passed over several resorts and what she imagined might be rentals for the rich and shameless, given the sprawling houses and crystal clear swimming pools.
She set herself down upon a bare stretch of the grassy rise, and consulted Sága's screen. Her digital assistant brought up a map for her to peruse, and she learned that she was in the city of Charlotte Amalie, which was of course the capital of the Virgin Islands. She punched in the address to Mr. Blackwood's place, and found that it was several islands away to the northeast.
She oriented herself in that direction, and took to the skies once more. Hills and valleys rolled out beneath her as she soared over the island of St. Thomas. Within were nestled both towns and forests alike. The latter did not appear to be the dense jungle that she expected from the Caribbean. Rather it looked more like the woods she was used to back home in Michigan, with a mix of evergreens and deciduous trees. Granted, what she did not know about the Caribbean could fill entire wikis. Just spelling it was challenge enough!
Soon enough she had run out of land, and nothing but water passed by under her wings. That gave January a slight twinge of fear. This was not like flying over one of the Great Lakes. That was the real ocean underneath her. Deeper than the sun's rays could ever reach, and filled with all manner of strange and voracious creatures.
Well, at least she did not have to worry about drowning. She could breathe water now. So it was only the giant prehistoric sharks, killer whales, giant squid, jellyfish, Father Dagon and Mother Hydra that lurked in the deep that she might have to worry about. That made things so much better.
She tried to push the thoughts of shark movies and Lovecraftian horrors from her mind. The first were a lot less dangerous than bees or even her own bathtub. The latter were fictional after all. At least she hoped.
Besides, it was not like she was really over the open ocean. Islands dotted the seascape all around. Besides St. Thomas behind her, just a few miles ahead rose the green mountainsides of St. John. A line of smaller isles dotted the sea to the north, as did a few others to the south. She was never anywhere near to being out of sight of land after all.
She sailed over St. John's towns and forested mountains and soon enough was back out over the water again. This time it was just a narrow channel before the next big island, Tortola. The sun beat down as she soared through the skies. But January did not mind the heat. The crystal clear blue waters, green mountainsides, white-washed homes, and red-tiled roofs created a fantasy-like atmosphere that was just too good to allow the unpleasantness of reality to intrude into, at least not yet. She could always crack open a book about Caribbean history for that...
She glanced down at Sága once more, and saw that she was nearing her destination. Soon enough, she left the long curling shores of Tortola behind and was out of the open water again. Open being a very relative term once more, as there was a line of smaller islands in sight beyond her right shoulder. Dead ahead lay a wide channel to the island of Virgin Gorda, which her map said was nearly five miles away.
She ate that distance up in no time at all. She banked to the left and followed the shoreline across the docks of a large city. She continued on over the green slopes of a low mountain that jutted out into the sea. She curled around the bulge it created in the rocky shoreline, and found that a handful of estates dotted the promontory's northern face.
It had to be one of those. January consulted Sága once more to find the exact GPS coordinates. While her fingers tapped the display the familiar dark shape of a crow rose up from the trees below. It excitedly circled around her once, jabbering in a most un-crowlike fashion. It sounded less like the deep, throaty croaks that she was accustomed to hearing from American Crows. Instead this fellow's speech was a long, almost squealing trill. It reminded her of some of those old cassette tapes that Avery had, and the squeaking sound they made when he rewinded them.
Then the crow did something even January did not expect. It landed on her back, right between her wings. It perched there, just below her neck, and seemed to be enjoying the ride. January tried not to laugh, or crane her head back to look at it. She could feel its talons easily enough as they pricked at her skin. More than that, she could sense its presence there, a warm comfort beside her in astral space.
She turned back to the task at hand. She was tempted to get out and ask for directions. Instead she circled down to what she thought might be the place. But her passenger began to squeal and trill in a most disagreeable manner. So she pulled back up again and moved on to the next set of buildings.
This was a collection of structures that looked Japanese with their hip and gable styled roofs. The numerous pavilions were constructed from lustrous woods. Their tall ceilings and numerous floors imparted an open, airy feel to the place. A wide infinity pool sat at the base of the main house, and beneath its edge a wooden wall plummeted down the steep forested slope below.
January recognized that pool from her video conference with Mr. Blackwood. It was bisected by a delicate wooden bridge, and even had a little island within it from which sprouted an ornamental tree. It was a zen garden made of water, decorative stones, and strategically placed greenery.
Her passenger leaped off her back and darted downward, trilling noisily all the way. It soared across a wooden patio that ran along one side of the pool, and swept through an open wall into the main building. January trusted her companion, and feathered her wings back to slow her descent. She picked a spot between two halves of the main building, where the patio was not covered by awnings. That gave her plenty of open space to land. She gently set down there a moment later, and curled up her wings on her back.
"Shoo, shoo you avian pirate!" a man cried out in a distinctly French accent. January turned to face the sound, and walked to the large open wall that the crow had flown through. Now that she was down on the ground, she saw that the wall beneath the awning was wide open to the air and pool beyond. Within was a spacious veranda floored in stone. A long wooden food preparation area took up the center of the space, with a row of bar stools running one of its sides. A stone grill with a shiny aluminum lid sat in one corner, next to a low bar. Finally a small, granite-surfaced table sat nearby, surrounded by stylized copper and wooden chairs.
The Caribbean crow swept out of the space a moment later with a ring of fruit clenched in its heavy beak. Close upon its heels was a man wearing bright yellow dock shorts and sandals, and nothing else. His lean muscles rippled under the sun, and least a six pack of abs graced his tummy. It was too bad Avery had not been able to come along. He was definitely the meta-inventor's type.
January recognized him from the video conference the week before of course.
"Jean-Paul," she smiled. "It is so nice to meet you in person."
"Ah, it is the Crow of the Storm!" the extremely fit man said in a decidedly French accent. Like a cat who had fallen off the couch, he instantly regained his composure and acted like he had not just been in hot pursuit of a larcenous corvid a moment earlier. "Mr. Blackwood is expecting you. He is just finishing up with another client, so if you would be so good as wait, he will be with your shortly."
He walked January back out onto the deck, and waved one hand out at the truly stunning view that lay before them. There was the zen garden, the infinity pool, and of course the truly breathtaking blue sea and forested islands beyond. January sat upon a deck chair, and he bent down to hold out the tray he balanced in one hand.
"Perhaps a snack while you wait? I would be delighted to make for you a refreshing beverage. My very own Virgin Rum Punch is the talk of the islands. But I am quite adept at mixing many fine drinks. A Blue Lagoon perhaps, or a Cuba Libre?"
January declined the drink, but did take him up on the fruit. She snacked on a few mango slices, and made herself comfortable, if not at home. It was all just a little too grandiose and over-awing for her to be truly comfortable. She tried to imagine what an estate like this must cost, and soon gave up. That kind of wealth was a more alien concept than creatures from another world.
She tried to just enjoy the view. But she could not shake the feeling that she was out of place. She kept fearing that she might turn around and accidentally break a priceless Ming vase or something of that nature. This was all just too rich for her middle-class blood.
So she did what she always did these days. She meditated. She started by scooting out of the reclining chair, and sitting upon the hard wooden planks of the deck. Soon enough she spread her legs out into the splits, and finally turned that into a handstand, with her legs still spread to either side.
As always, she felt her power flow through her. She nurtured it, called it up, massaged it, and stoked it. It became her world. She became it. She was magic. She was power. They were one and the same.
It turns out that Blood Raven has quite a few former students like January. We are going to get to meet all these Daughters of the Raven in this and the next book. They make for a pretty awesome team.
January goes international! This is definitely the farthest she has ever been from home. And probably will be for some time.
Thanks for finding that nit for me.
Renee: Blood Raven has known a lot of people in her 250 years, and has watched every single one of them die. That, and just the reality of being a super makes her prone to avoid adding more friends to the list of those she will someday watch die as well.
Hopefully I will be able to use the Aura in the future. You never can tell what seeds you plant as a writer will sprout and which will never go anywhere. I liked the idea of a mage hangout, especially given how many there are now in the story.
It is very dope.
WellTemperedClavier: I have to think back to Book 5 and what was going on in that one. It is one of my favorites, because in it January finally gets her wings, figuratively and literally. She really comes into her own in that book, and the alliances she has made so far have begun to bear fruit, as she teams up with both Blood Raven and Lighthammer, with some informational assistance from Trooper Mercado.
I liked your references to Supes and Spidey, and how they used their super personas in the media to help them in their personal lives. In Jan's case it there is more too it. One simply because of her era. Everyone has a video camera in their pocket these days with a constant link to the internet, so she is constantly being recorded and streamed. Plus social media and virtual spaces are a very real part of the world she lives in. She is young enough to never know a time without them. So being present in that world is as important to her as it is in the physical one. Because what happens there directly affects the world we all live in.
I definitely meant that self-destructive comparison between the killer drug and the neo-nazis. It started with me thinking on who would want to take something like that. I thought of the nazis who harassed Motor City Pride (which happened IRL just a few months before I wrote the book), and I had it.
As always Charlotte Amalie East and Blackwood's Villa can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map
Blackbeard's Tower
Explore Charlotte Amalie
Caribbean Crow Call
Blackwood's Estate 1 (RL Villa Katsura)
Blackwood's Estate 2
Blackwood's Estate 3
Blackwood's Estate 4
Jean-Paul (RL Hugo Philip)
Book 9.7 - Ashes
January found herself standing atop a round stone tower that looked like it might have jumped out of any sword and sandal movie, or fantasy role-playing game. The brown stones of the walls were a jumble of sizes and shapes rather than of uniform brick. But the masonry all melded into a smooth, curved surface that wrapped up in a tall cylinder. The floor upon which she stood was of smooth wood. A flagpole rose up from the center of the space, hosting a green banner that bore a woman in a white dress and golden sandals. She held a golden lamp in one hand, and was flanked by a pair of golden eagles.
That reminded January that she was no longer in the United States. She was literally in another country. The Virgin Islands had gained their independence from both the UK and US decades before of course, and had reunified into a single, sovereign nation. She hoped that no one would ask to see her passport, given that she did not have one.
Around her stretched out a resort of white-washed buildings with bright red-tiled rooftops. A long swimming pool stretched out in one direction. To another was a broad lane flanked by palm trees, with a giant statue of a pirate in its center. People milled around the street below and frolicked in the pool. January heard the click of a camera, and turned to see a group of what could only be tourists standing atop the roof with her, pointing their phones her way.
January smiled and gave them a wave. Then she leaped into the firmament. Around her a city stretched out along the side of a long, forested ridge. The higher up one went, the thinner and thinner the red-roofed abodes became. She circled lazily around the town, and drifted down toward the sea. Along the way she found herself passing over a glorious statue of three women brandishing torches and lanterns as if to light the way for others.
The buildings became more dense here, and were tightly packed together by the time she reached the harbor. The natural bay spread out like the arms of an embracing giant, leaving only a wide channel to enter or leave between the two "hands" of the outstretched arms of land. She also noted a narrow channel at the base of one of the "shoulders". That made it an island blocking off half the bay, rather than a true promontory of land. But the result was the same: a lagoon of calm water that lay at the feet of the city.
The bay was filled with vessels. There were tiny rowboats and little sailboats, and great pleasure yachts that must cost more money than most people could ever earn in a lifetime. Three massive cruise ships that were practically floating cities in their own rights were tied up to a long dock on the left side of the harbor. The water itself was a soft and ever so inviting shade of turquoise that practically glowed under the summer sun. Farther out the open sea stretched away in deepening hues of blue.
It was paradise.
January pulled herself skyward once more, and soared up to the crest of what was either a tall hill or a low mountain that flanked the eastern side of the harbor. She could tell the direction by the position of the sun overhead, which was still hours from climbing to its zenith. She passed over several resorts and what she imagined might be rentals for the rich and shameless, given the sprawling houses and crystal clear swimming pools.
She set herself down upon a bare stretch of the grassy rise, and consulted Sága's screen. Her digital assistant brought up a map for her to peruse, and she learned that she was in the city of Charlotte Amalie, which was of course the capital of the Virgin Islands. She punched in the address to Mr. Blackwood's place, and found that it was several islands away to the northeast.
She oriented herself in that direction, and took to the skies once more. Hills and valleys rolled out beneath her as she soared over the island of St. Thomas. Within were nestled both towns and forests alike. The latter did not appear to be the dense jungle that she expected from the Caribbean. Rather it looked more like the woods she was used to back home in Michigan, with a mix of evergreens and deciduous trees. Granted, what she did not know about the Caribbean could fill entire wikis. Just spelling it was challenge enough!
Soon enough she had run out of land, and nothing but water passed by under her wings. That gave January a slight twinge of fear. This was not like flying over one of the Great Lakes. That was the real ocean underneath her. Deeper than the sun's rays could ever reach, and filled with all manner of strange and voracious creatures.
Well, at least she did not have to worry about drowning. She could breathe water now. So it was only the giant prehistoric sharks, killer whales, giant squid, jellyfish, Father Dagon and Mother Hydra that lurked in the deep that she might have to worry about. That made things so much better.
She tried to push the thoughts of shark movies and Lovecraftian horrors from her mind. The first were a lot less dangerous than bees or even her own bathtub. The latter were fictional after all. At least she hoped.
Besides, it was not like she was really over the open ocean. Islands dotted the seascape all around. Besides St. Thomas behind her, just a few miles ahead rose the green mountainsides of St. John. A line of smaller isles dotted the sea to the north, as did a few others to the south. She was never anywhere near to being out of sight of land after all.
She sailed over St. John's towns and forested mountains and soon enough was back out over the water again. This time it was just a narrow channel before the next big island, Tortola. The sun beat down as she soared through the skies. But January did not mind the heat. The crystal clear blue waters, green mountainsides, white-washed homes, and red-tiled roofs created a fantasy-like atmosphere that was just too good to allow the unpleasantness of reality to intrude into, at least not yet. She could always crack open a book about Caribbean history for that...
She glanced down at Sága once more, and saw that she was nearing her destination. Soon enough, she left the long curling shores of Tortola behind and was out of the open water again. Open being a very relative term once more, as there was a line of smaller islands in sight beyond her right shoulder. Dead ahead lay a wide channel to the island of Virgin Gorda, which her map said was nearly five miles away.
She ate that distance up in no time at all. She banked to the left and followed the shoreline across the docks of a large city. She continued on over the green slopes of a low mountain that jutted out into the sea. She curled around the bulge it created in the rocky shoreline, and found that a handful of estates dotted the promontory's northern face.
It had to be one of those. January consulted Sága once more to find the exact GPS coordinates. While her fingers tapped the display the familiar dark shape of a crow rose up from the trees below. It excitedly circled around her once, jabbering in a most un-crowlike fashion. It sounded less like the deep, throaty croaks that she was accustomed to hearing from American Crows. Instead this fellow's speech was a long, almost squealing trill. It reminded her of some of those old cassette tapes that Avery had, and the squeaking sound they made when he rewinded them.
Then the crow did something even January did not expect. It landed on her back, right between her wings. It perched there, just below her neck, and seemed to be enjoying the ride. January tried not to laugh, or crane her head back to look at it. She could feel its talons easily enough as they pricked at her skin. More than that, she could sense its presence there, a warm comfort beside her in astral space.
She turned back to the task at hand. She was tempted to get out and ask for directions. Instead she circled down to what she thought might be the place. But her passenger began to squeal and trill in a most disagreeable manner. So she pulled back up again and moved on to the next set of buildings.
This was a collection of structures that looked Japanese with their hip and gable styled roofs. The numerous pavilions were constructed from lustrous woods. Their tall ceilings and numerous floors imparted an open, airy feel to the place. A wide infinity pool sat at the base of the main house, and beneath its edge a wooden wall plummeted down the steep forested slope below.
January recognized that pool from her video conference with Mr. Blackwood. It was bisected by a delicate wooden bridge, and even had a little island within it from which sprouted an ornamental tree. It was a zen garden made of water, decorative stones, and strategically placed greenery.
Her passenger leaped off her back and darted downward, trilling noisily all the way. It soared across a wooden patio that ran along one side of the pool, and swept through an open wall into the main building. January trusted her companion, and feathered her wings back to slow her descent. She picked a spot between two halves of the main building, where the patio was not covered by awnings. That gave her plenty of open space to land. She gently set down there a moment later, and curled up her wings on her back.
"Shoo, shoo you avian pirate!" a man cried out in a distinctly French accent. January turned to face the sound, and walked to the large open wall that the crow had flown through. Now that she was down on the ground, she saw that the wall beneath the awning was wide open to the air and pool beyond. Within was a spacious veranda floored in stone. A long wooden food preparation area took up the center of the space, with a row of bar stools running one of its sides. A stone grill with a shiny aluminum lid sat in one corner, next to a low bar. Finally a small, granite-surfaced table sat nearby, surrounded by stylized copper and wooden chairs.
The Caribbean crow swept out of the space a moment later with a ring of fruit clenched in its heavy beak. Close upon its heels was a man wearing bright yellow dock shorts and sandals, and nothing else. His lean muscles rippled under the sun, and least a six pack of abs graced his tummy. It was too bad Avery had not been able to come along. He was definitely the meta-inventor's type.
January recognized him from the video conference the week before of course.
"Jean-Paul," she smiled. "It is so nice to meet you in person."
"Ah, it is the Crow of the Storm!" the extremely fit man said in a decidedly French accent. Like a cat who had fallen off the couch, he instantly regained his composure and acted like he had not just been in hot pursuit of a larcenous corvid a moment earlier. "Mr. Blackwood is expecting you. He is just finishing up with another client, so if you would be so good as wait, he will be with your shortly."
He walked January back out onto the deck, and waved one hand out at the truly stunning view that lay before them. There was the zen garden, the infinity pool, and of course the truly breathtaking blue sea and forested islands beyond. January sat upon a deck chair, and he bent down to hold out the tray he balanced in one hand.
"Perhaps a snack while you wait? I would be delighted to make for you a refreshing beverage. My very own Virgin Rum Punch is the talk of the islands. But I am quite adept at mixing many fine drinks. A Blue Lagoon perhaps, or a Cuba Libre?"
January declined the drink, but did take him up on the fruit. She snacked on a few mango slices, and made herself comfortable, if not at home. It was all just a little too grandiose and over-awing for her to be truly comfortable. She tried to imagine what an estate like this must cost, and soon gave up. That kind of wealth was a more alien concept than creatures from another world.
She tried to just enjoy the view. But she could not shake the feeling that she was out of place. She kept fearing that she might turn around and accidentally break a priceless Ming vase or something of that nature. This was all just too rich for her middle-class blood.
So she did what she always did these days. She meditated. She started by scooting out of the reclining chair, and sitting upon the hard wooden planks of the deck. Soon enough she spread her legs out into the splits, and finally turned that into a handstand, with her legs still spread to either side.
As always, she felt her power flow through her. She nurtured it, called it up, massaged it, and stoked it. It became her world. She became it. She was magic. She was power. They were one and the same.
QUOTE
Blood Raven has known a lot of people in her 250 years, and has watched every single one of them die. That, and just the reality of being a super makes her prone to avoid adding more friends to the list of those she will someday watch die as well.
This also is why she's got a lot of Wisdom. You know, we get wiser as we get older. So for somebody who's lived that long, she's going to be really wise. Know a lot o things. She's a natural teacher for all these younger folks, and some of the older ones, even.
Off-topic, but this is why I have problems believing elves in Elder Scrolls games have lived such long lives. They don't seem any wiser than any other race. They do and say a lot of the silly / stupid things other NPCs do from other racial lineages.
Whoa... look at Blackwood's home.
Is this Jan's first time outside the States (except for Canada, perhaps)? Well it must be, if she hasn't got a passport. I'd be jealous, except I hate hot weather. Ha, they're already taking pictures of her. What the hey? OTOH, she doesn't seem to mind.
There are crows down there too.
QUOTE
She tried to just enjoy the view. But she could not shake the feeling that she was out of place
Yeah, completely opposite of where she's from. By now Jan has experienced plenty of actual seasons for instance, including really cold ones.
Don't break any of Blackwood's Ming vases!
Yay, an aerial tour of the Virgin Isles! And a local crow for a guide – who speaks with a Caribbean accent of course. I chuckled at Jan’s uneasiness/internal dialogue being over such an expanse of open water.
’It was paradise.’
- - Based on the description that precedes Jan’s conclusion it sure sounds like it!
Overall, a fascinating arrival to Mr. Blackwood’s estate. I love how Jan deals with her wealth discomfort by meditating. Looking forward to seeing our host again and checking out Jan’s new Storm ensemble.
Nit? "Perhaps a snack while you eat?” - - Did Jean-Paul mean ‘wait’ instead of ‘eat’?
’It was paradise.’
- - Based on the description that precedes Jan’s conclusion it sure sounds like it!
Overall, a fascinating arrival to Mr. Blackwood’s estate. I love how Jan deals with her wealth discomfort by meditating. Looking forward to seeing our host again and checking out Jan’s new Storm ensemble.
Nit? "Perhaps a snack while you eat?” - - Did Jean-Paul mean ‘wait’ instead of ‘eat’?
Finished Book 6!
So the big moment here is January coming out. What really brings this home is the sheer detail on what she notices in others: their minute facial reactions which nonetheless tell so much about how they feel. And all that ties in with the sorts of skills she's had no choice but to develop in order to survive. It's one of those elements that says a great deal in just a brief description.
Likewise, she's now second-guessing a lot of the people around her. Being a lesbian is difficult enough. Being trans adds a whole new layer of difficulty. You demonstrate this with how she watches the expressions of the police.
Regardless, it's a big moment. Hiding simply comes at too high a cost. Stormcrow isn't a Blood Raven, standing on the sidelines and only intervening when needed. She's an active hero, and that means she has to be open.
One note: I know you based Octavia Butler on Octavia Spencer, but did you know there was also a science-fiction writer by that name? I actually first thought the RL Butler was the one interviewing January, but then I checked and learned that Butler had died in 2006.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octavia_E._Butler
The turn to the supernatural was effective, and Gola certainly made for an interesting antagonist. There's never going to be an entirely satisfactory cut-off line on when you judge someone. Certainly as someone who has to constantly push back against those who want to condemn her as evil or unnatural, it makes sense that January is reluctant to so easily jump into a similar mindset.
At the same time, Gola's killed a lot of people. I did like how January talked her down and showed her a better way of doing things. I'm maybe more comfortable with retributive justice than I should be. I'm still concerned with Gola's victims, the ones who don't get a second chance the way she did. However, even though it's not the decision I'd have made, I can understand why January made her choice. And that's what makes for a compelling protagonist. Likewise, you keep a certain ambiguity. January knows she's taking a risk here, since she can't be 100% certain that Gola won't revert back to her old ways. Being the hero that she is, she takes responsibility for it.
So the big moment here is January coming out. What really brings this home is the sheer detail on what she notices in others: their minute facial reactions which nonetheless tell so much about how they feel. And all that ties in with the sorts of skills she's had no choice but to develop in order to survive. It's one of those elements that says a great deal in just a brief description.
Likewise, she's now second-guessing a lot of the people around her. Being a lesbian is difficult enough. Being trans adds a whole new layer of difficulty. You demonstrate this with how she watches the expressions of the police.
Regardless, it's a big moment. Hiding simply comes at too high a cost. Stormcrow isn't a Blood Raven, standing on the sidelines and only intervening when needed. She's an active hero, and that means she has to be open.
One note: I know you based Octavia Butler on Octavia Spencer, but did you know there was also a science-fiction writer by that name? I actually first thought the RL Butler was the one interviewing January, but then I checked and learned that Butler had died in 2006.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Octavia_E._Butler
The turn to the supernatural was effective, and Gola certainly made for an interesting antagonist. There's never going to be an entirely satisfactory cut-off line on when you judge someone. Certainly as someone who has to constantly push back against those who want to condemn her as evil or unnatural, it makes sense that January is reluctant to so easily jump into a similar mindset.
At the same time, Gola's killed a lot of people. I did like how January talked her down and showed her a better way of doing things. I'm maybe more comfortable with retributive justice than I should be. I'm still concerned with Gola's victims, the ones who don't get a second chance the way she did. However, even though it's not the decision I'd have made, I can understand why January made her choice. And that's what makes for a compelling protagonist. Likewise, you keep a certain ambiguity. January knows she's taking a risk here, since she can't be 100% certain that Gola won't revert back to her old ways. Being the hero that she is, she takes responsibility for it.
Renee: Blood Raven has been around long enough to have made a lot of mistakes in life, and learned from them. There is an old saying that goes: "Good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgement." Blood Raven has a lot of experience.
I have the same feelings about elves in the ES universe. They are supposedly centuries old, but not only act like they are 19, they are also still first level when they are a hundred years old. I realize that is because the game designers want to keep the races balanced, but it does kind of ruin the suspension of disbelief when you think about it too much.
I had to look it up to find out that there were crows in the Caribbean. Europe has them too of course. Theirs actually have some white in their feathers, instead of being all black. That surprised me.
Acadian: I got the idea for the crow riding on January's back after seeing pics of crows (I think) doing the same thing on the back of eagles in flight. They literally hitch a ride on larger birds at times.
January's Thalassaphobia was something I worked in to help show that in spite of being super, she is still human. Those wide open spaces of nothing, and fathomless depths of utter blackness creep her out on some basic level. Me too to be honest.
Once again, thanks for finding that nit for me to fix.
WellTemperedClavier: I developed all those same skills as January in reading tiny changes of expression in people's faces and body language. It is just a necessary part of living when you are a queer person.
January's coming out publicly was something I planned on. It is all part of her being a part of the world, in a way that Blood Raven is not. In so many queer stories that is the end of their tale. As if life suddenly ends when you come out and/or transition. I deliberately set it to happen in a 'middle' story like this one, because it is just one event in January's life. One step in her learning what kind of cape she is going to be.
I do know about Octavia Butler. When I originally named the reporter, it was based on Octavia Spencer the actress. I changed her last name, as I usually do when I create a fictional character based on a real person. I am not sure where I got the name Butler. It just popped in my head. Then later I was looking through my library, and saw my Octavia Butler books. So I think I deliberately unconsciously named her after RL Octavia Butler. I leave it that way because she was rad as hell. It's my homage to her.
January's empathy and shying from retributive justice are one of the places where she and I are not alike. There is a lot of me in January to be sure. But not that. I am a lot more bloodthirsty myself. It's a good thing I am not a world leader, because if I was, everyone on the planet would be dead. January OTOH, is based on other fictional and real young people who are much kinder and more forgiving than I am. She is a person who wants to give people the opportunity to be the best version of themselves. Second chances are very important to her. As a suicide survivor, January has had a second chance herself. So it is a very personal conviction of hers. Actually Supergirl (from the recent TV show) is one of my inspirations for January, especially when it comes to empathy.
It is actually one of the things that I enjoy the most about writing January. She is definitely my favorite fictional character, because she is a much kinder and more empathetic than I am. It always puts me in a good head space when I write her. When I play versions of her in video games, I often class her as a Paladin. She is just so darn nice.
Mr. Blackwood
Frostbite
T54/55 Tank
Book 9.8 - Ashes
She felt the newcomers in astral space before she heard them. It was a man and a woman, striding from one of the other buildings. Both had the bright, but otherwise colorless auras of meta-humans. The aura of the man felt strong in the astral, but the body that underlay it felt old and frail. The woman on the other hand, was a balance of strength and vitality in both the physical and astral worlds.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the darling of the media," the woman said in a thick Eastern European accent. "I am surprised that you have time between all your press appearances to come here."
January opened her eyes, and deliberately took her time easing out of astral space and purely back into the physical world. She bent and let the momentum take her through a forward roll, with her legs still spread at a ninety degree angle to her torso. She finally brought them in at the end of the somersault, and bounced to her feet. She turned to face the pair, and forced a smile to her lips.
She already knew Mr. Blackwood from the video conference of course. He was a slender, older man, with curly brown hair now gone to gray at his temples. His wire framed glasses sat upon a nose as straight as a ruler. As before, he wore a suit that was absolutely impeccable in style. The creases were so sharp and clear that January imagined that Jean-Paul might be able to use them to slice mangoes. The orange flower pinned to his lapel did soften his look however, as did the multicolored tie that he wore.
Beside him walked a woman who was taller than either him or January, much more so in fact. She was built like a T-55 tank: a combination of smooth curves and brute power. As an athlete, that was something January admired. She liked a woman who was put together. She wore a white, blue, and purple suit that was obviously of Mr. Blackwood's design. Her snow white hair was tied back in a single braid behind her head, and her face was obscured by a cowl that left only her eyes and lips bare.
"Mr. Blackwood," January finally said. "Perhaps you should remind Jean-Paul that it is time to take out the trash."
January had to fight not to show her own surprise at her words. Where had that display of wit come from? It was not like she good at coming up with snappy one-liners after all.
"Maybe you'd like me to take you out." The snow-maned woman declared. She loudly smacked a fist into the open palm of her other hand, and grinned wolfishly.
"If you weren't such a bitch, yeah, I'd love to go out with you," January said honestly.
"Ladies, ladies," Mr. Blackwood held up his open hands in a gesture of peace. "Let's not get off to a frosty start. This is neutral ground. Whatever disagreements you may have, or intend to have, they do not take place here."
"Oh, I am not disagreeable," the white-haired woman smiled again, her eyes still locked upon January. "Come to Poland little bird, I will teach you to dance the mazurka. It will be... fun."
A layer of frost broke out across her features, and then the rest of her body. In moments it completely engulfed her in a blanket of thick ice. She turned her head up, and shot into the air upon a rising pillar of frozen water. The ice arced up and over the buildings of the estate, only to dip down back to earth somewhere out of sight beyond.
Jean-Paul appeared from nowhere, and threw his hands up in disgust at the sight of the giant arch of ice that crossed the estate. "When that melts, there shall be water everywhere!" he groaned.
"You do business with someone like Frostbite?" January turned to Mr. Blackwood with a raised eyebrow. "You know she's a supervillain right?"
"Yes, I am quite aware," Blackwood replied. "But I don't judge. At least I try not to. I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of it. As a wise man once said, many things in life are dependent upon one's point of view. You know, some people consider you to be a villain."
"Point of view?" January replied incredulously. "Am I a villain in your point of view?"
"Oh bollocks no!" Mr. Blackwood insisted. "It makes an old queen like me proud to see a queer person so out and about and in public. That's why I wanted to make you fabulous. We have a reputation for being stylish you know."
As if to underscore his words, he took a moment to straighten his already impeccable tie.
"Now let's crack on, and I'll show you what I did make for you, as decidedly un-fabulous as it is."
January followed in silence as the older man led her past the pillar of ice that now sat in front of the main house. She was not sure what to think as he took her around the house and down a stone path lined with tropical flowers. He must have sensed her disturbance, for he soon spoke to what she was feeling.
"It bothers you that I create attire for both sides, doesn't it?" Blackwood sighed. "Yes, I understand. I didn't when I started all this. I was scrupulously moral, or at least I thought I was. But a funny thing happened. I found that some of the people I worked for were only heroes because I agreed with what they were doing. Like that young chap who fights for Hong Kong's independence, or that other fellow who sinks shark-finning ships. To over a billion people in the world, they are supervillains. I found that the longer I live, the more and more murky some of these distinctions become."
"So you got old and jaded is what you were saying," January decried with all the certainty of youth. Even as she said it, she knew she was being sanctimonious. But it did not change how brightly her heart blazed with the certainty of what was right and what was wrong.
"How many villains have you let go, or worked side by side with?" Mr. Blackwood replied gently, "such as your friend Lighthammer, or Hungry Ghost?"
"That's different," January felt her skin flush, and her heart quickened its pace. "They..."
"I know," Mr. Blackwood cut her off, his voice still gentle. "I am not arguing with you. That's the point. I am not here to foster an antagonistic relationship with you, or Frostbite, or anyone else. I have a gift, and it is not in picking fights. It's why I don't make weapons. I wouldn't know how."
"I-" January opened her mouth, then shut it again without saying anything more. She could see his point. She played it fast and loose with the law herself. But that did not change the fact that she knew what was right. If he wanted to be the Switzerland of the super world, what business of hers was it to tell him he should not?
I have the same feelings about elves in the ES universe. They are supposedly centuries old, but not only act like they are 19, they are also still first level when they are a hundred years old. I realize that is because the game designers want to keep the races balanced, but it does kind of ruin the suspension of disbelief when you think about it too much.
I had to look it up to find out that there were crows in the Caribbean. Europe has them too of course. Theirs actually have some white in their feathers, instead of being all black. That surprised me.
Acadian: I got the idea for the crow riding on January's back after seeing pics of crows (I think) doing the same thing on the back of eagles in flight. They literally hitch a ride on larger birds at times.
January's Thalassaphobia was something I worked in to help show that in spite of being super, she is still human. Those wide open spaces of nothing, and fathomless depths of utter blackness creep her out on some basic level. Me too to be honest.
Once again, thanks for finding that nit for me to fix.
WellTemperedClavier: I developed all those same skills as January in reading tiny changes of expression in people's faces and body language. It is just a necessary part of living when you are a queer person.
January's coming out publicly was something I planned on. It is all part of her being a part of the world, in a way that Blood Raven is not. In so many queer stories that is the end of their tale. As if life suddenly ends when you come out and/or transition. I deliberately set it to happen in a 'middle' story like this one, because it is just one event in January's life. One step in her learning what kind of cape she is going to be.
I do know about Octavia Butler. When I originally named the reporter, it was based on Octavia Spencer the actress. I changed her last name, as I usually do when I create a fictional character based on a real person. I am not sure where I got the name Butler. It just popped in my head. Then later I was looking through my library, and saw my Octavia Butler books. So I think I deliberately unconsciously named her after RL Octavia Butler. I leave it that way because she was rad as hell. It's my homage to her.
January's empathy and shying from retributive justice are one of the places where she and I are not alike. There is a lot of me in January to be sure. But not that. I am a lot more bloodthirsty myself. It's a good thing I am not a world leader, because if I was, everyone on the planet would be dead. January OTOH, is based on other fictional and real young people who are much kinder and more forgiving than I am. She is a person who wants to give people the opportunity to be the best version of themselves. Second chances are very important to her. As a suicide survivor, January has had a second chance herself. So it is a very personal conviction of hers. Actually Supergirl (from the recent TV show) is one of my inspirations for January, especially when it comes to empathy.
It is actually one of the things that I enjoy the most about writing January. She is definitely my favorite fictional character, because she is a much kinder and more empathetic than I am. It always puts me in a good head space when I write her. When I play versions of her in video games, I often class her as a Paladin. She is just so darn nice.
Mr. Blackwood
Frostbite
T54/55 Tank
Book 9.8 - Ashes
She felt the newcomers in astral space before she heard them. It was a man and a woman, striding from one of the other buildings. Both had the bright, but otherwise colorless auras of meta-humans. The aura of the man felt strong in the astral, but the body that underlay it felt old and frail. The woman on the other hand, was a balance of strength and vitality in both the physical and astral worlds.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the darling of the media," the woman said in a thick Eastern European accent. "I am surprised that you have time between all your press appearances to come here."
January opened her eyes, and deliberately took her time easing out of astral space and purely back into the physical world. She bent and let the momentum take her through a forward roll, with her legs still spread at a ninety degree angle to her torso. She finally brought them in at the end of the somersault, and bounced to her feet. She turned to face the pair, and forced a smile to her lips.
She already knew Mr. Blackwood from the video conference of course. He was a slender, older man, with curly brown hair now gone to gray at his temples. His wire framed glasses sat upon a nose as straight as a ruler. As before, he wore a suit that was absolutely impeccable in style. The creases were so sharp and clear that January imagined that Jean-Paul might be able to use them to slice mangoes. The orange flower pinned to his lapel did soften his look however, as did the multicolored tie that he wore.
Beside him walked a woman who was taller than either him or January, much more so in fact. She was built like a T-55 tank: a combination of smooth curves and brute power. As an athlete, that was something January admired. She liked a woman who was put together. She wore a white, blue, and purple suit that was obviously of Mr. Blackwood's design. Her snow white hair was tied back in a single braid behind her head, and her face was obscured by a cowl that left only her eyes and lips bare.
"Mr. Blackwood," January finally said. "Perhaps you should remind Jean-Paul that it is time to take out the trash."
January had to fight not to show her own surprise at her words. Where had that display of wit come from? It was not like she good at coming up with snappy one-liners after all.
"Maybe you'd like me to take you out." The snow-maned woman declared. She loudly smacked a fist into the open palm of her other hand, and grinned wolfishly.
"If you weren't such a bitch, yeah, I'd love to go out with you," January said honestly.
"Ladies, ladies," Mr. Blackwood held up his open hands in a gesture of peace. "Let's not get off to a frosty start. This is neutral ground. Whatever disagreements you may have, or intend to have, they do not take place here."
"Oh, I am not disagreeable," the white-haired woman smiled again, her eyes still locked upon January. "Come to Poland little bird, I will teach you to dance the mazurka. It will be... fun."
A layer of frost broke out across her features, and then the rest of her body. In moments it completely engulfed her in a blanket of thick ice. She turned her head up, and shot into the air upon a rising pillar of frozen water. The ice arced up and over the buildings of the estate, only to dip down back to earth somewhere out of sight beyond.
Jean-Paul appeared from nowhere, and threw his hands up in disgust at the sight of the giant arch of ice that crossed the estate. "When that melts, there shall be water everywhere!" he groaned.
"You do business with someone like Frostbite?" January turned to Mr. Blackwood with a raised eyebrow. "You know she's a supervillain right?"
"Yes, I am quite aware," Blackwood replied. "But I don't judge. At least I try not to. I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of it. As a wise man once said, many things in life are dependent upon one's point of view. You know, some people consider you to be a villain."
"Point of view?" January replied incredulously. "Am I a villain in your point of view?"
"Oh bollocks no!" Mr. Blackwood insisted. "It makes an old queen like me proud to see a queer person so out and about and in public. That's why I wanted to make you fabulous. We have a reputation for being stylish you know."
As if to underscore his words, he took a moment to straighten his already impeccable tie.
"Now let's crack on, and I'll show you what I did make for you, as decidedly un-fabulous as it is."
January followed in silence as the older man led her past the pillar of ice that now sat in front of the main house. She was not sure what to think as he took her around the house and down a stone path lined with tropical flowers. He must have sensed her disturbance, for he soon spoke to what she was feeling.
"It bothers you that I create attire for both sides, doesn't it?" Blackwood sighed. "Yes, I understand. I didn't when I started all this. I was scrupulously moral, or at least I thought I was. But a funny thing happened. I found that some of the people I worked for were only heroes because I agreed with what they were doing. Like that young chap who fights for Hong Kong's independence, or that other fellow who sinks shark-finning ships. To over a billion people in the world, they are supervillains. I found that the longer I live, the more and more murky some of these distinctions become."
"So you got old and jaded is what you were saying," January decried with all the certainty of youth. Even as she said it, she knew she was being sanctimonious. But it did not change how brightly her heart blazed with the certainty of what was right and what was wrong.
"How many villains have you let go, or worked side by side with?" Mr. Blackwood replied gently, "such as your friend Lighthammer, or Hungry Ghost?"
"That's different," January felt her skin flush, and her heart quickened its pace. "They..."
"I know," Mr. Blackwood cut her off, his voice still gentle. "I am not arguing with you. That's the point. I am not here to foster an antagonistic relationship with you, or Frostbite, or anyone else. I have a gift, and it is not in picking fights. It's why I don't make weapons. I wouldn't know how."
"I-" January opened her mouth, then shut it again without saying anything more. She could see his point. She played it fast and loose with the law herself. But that did not change the fact that she knew what was right. If he wanted to be the Switzerland of the super world, what business of hers was it to tell him he should not?
The Frostbite pic is sending me to imgur’s malfunction screen.
’I am surprised that you have time between all your press appearances to come here."
Didn’t know a thing about this woman but this quite concisely told me a great deal – and none of it good. I was both impressed by Jan’s quick-witted reply and the aggressiveness of it until it became clear that this other woman was not only snarkily rude but a black hat super as well that Jan was somewhat familiar with.
What followed was a well-done dialogue between Jan and her host. Each makes valid points from their perspectives and, I suspect they both learned a little in the process of their ‘debate’. It is clear to me that Jan and her crew are ‘Chaotic Good’, and she is right in not apologizing for it.
Nit: ”…or that other fellow who sinks shark-fin{n}ing ships.”
’I am surprised that you have time between all your press appearances to come here."
Didn’t know a thing about this woman but this quite concisely told me a great deal – and none of it good. I was both impressed by Jan’s quick-witted reply and the aggressiveness of it until it became clear that this other woman was not only snarkily rude but a black hat super as well that Jan was somewhat familiar with.
What followed was a well-done dialogue between Jan and her host. Each makes valid points from their perspectives and, I suspect they both learned a little in the process of their ‘debate’. It is clear to me that Jan and her crew are ‘Chaotic Good’, and she is right in not apologizing for it.
Nit: ”…or that other fellow who sinks shark-fin{n}ing ships.”
Ok, give that pic a try now. The first time I linked to where it was saved in my favorites, which apparently is why it did not work. This is the original link now.
Yep, works fine now. 
Is that Michael Caine? 
I think so. We've had this conversation awhile back. For awhile, it seemed Caine was in every other movie.
Good gosh this lady with the weird suit is a b1tch. So she is Frostbite. And by 'neutral ground', Blackwood really means neutral. Blackwood seems as though he's only there conducting business, right? There will be no fighting on his grounds (although mighty displays of warning magic are okay).
I like the "fellow who sinks shark-finning ships."
Wish that meta were real.
I think so. We've had this conversation awhile back. For awhile, it seemed Caine was in every other movie. Good gosh this lady with the weird suit is a b1tch. So she is Frostbite. And by 'neutral ground', Blackwood really means neutral. Blackwood seems as though he's only there conducting business, right? There will be no fighting on his grounds (although mighty displays of warning magic are okay).
I like the "fellow who sinks shark-finning ships."
Wish that meta were real.
The long weekend gave me time to finish Book 7.
I quite like Lighthammer! He's very pragmatic in comparison to Blood Raven's mysticism or Stormcrow's idealism. As such, he's both complementary and a contrast to the other heroes. There's also a strong sense of him having a life of his own. He moves in his own circles.
For what it's worth, I largely agree with Blood Raven in regards to the War on Drugs. But I can see Stormcrow's angle on this. It definitely seems like Detroit could use an equivalent to the Sentinels (particularly with the Summoner's shadow growing), and that does mean working with the powers-that-be. Lighthammer's vendetta is a personal one--and somewhat on the questionable side--but I get why he does that.
Also nice to see Ryo step up. Blood Raven did have a good point about the sword (which I think indicates Ryo would be descended from a samurai family--unless his ancestors had the sword illegally) being too much of a marker.
Seems like January's career is really taking off. Hopefully that'll give her a more solid financial foundation. While her mother moving was hard, I think she's left January in a pretty good place, all things considered. The first interview was painful due to the transphobe on the other end, but the second one seems to have gone well. Also, her city of Veia gives me a bit of a First Pocket Guide to the Empire version of Cyrodiil vibe
I quite like Lighthammer! He's very pragmatic in comparison to Blood Raven's mysticism or Stormcrow's idealism. As such, he's both complementary and a contrast to the other heroes. There's also a strong sense of him having a life of his own. He moves in his own circles.
For what it's worth, I largely agree with Blood Raven in regards to the War on Drugs. But I can see Stormcrow's angle on this. It definitely seems like Detroit could use an equivalent to the Sentinels (particularly with the Summoner's shadow growing), and that does mean working with the powers-that-be. Lighthammer's vendetta is a personal one--and somewhat on the questionable side--but I get why he does that.
Also nice to see Ryo step up. Blood Raven did have a good point about the sword (which I think indicates Ryo would be descended from a samurai family--unless his ancestors had the sword illegally) being too much of a marker.
Seems like January's career is really taking off. Hopefully that'll give her a more solid financial foundation. While her mother moving was hard, I think she's left January in a pretty good place, all things considered. The first interview was painful due to the transphobe on the other end, but the second one seems to have gone well. Also, her city of Veia gives me a bit of a First Pocket Guide to the Empire version of Cyrodiil vibe
Acadian: I wanted Frostbite to come across as thoroughly unpleasant from the start. I also wanted to show some of the backlash that inevitably comes from being in news, such as being accused of seeking publicity for its own sake. But mostly I just wanted it to be plain that Frostbite was a bad person.
I am not sure what alignment January is. I never really liked how that worked. January herself seems to always end up Lawful Good in every crpg because of her actions. But she really does not care much about what the law or tradition says. She knows all to well that laws are often merely the pretexts that oppressors create in order to marginalize and dehumanize their victims. She just does what she thinks is right.
Renee: That is Michael Caine. He has been in every movie!
Yes, Blackwood means it when he says his place is neutral ground. He makes suits for everyone. But he's not going to tolerate people slugging it out in his house. As January noted, he is Switzerland.
I wish the anti-shark fin guy was real too...
WellTemperedClavier: Wow, you have been on a tear!
I enjoy writing Lighthammer. He not only has a good power set, that I think would be fun to play in an RPG, but he is an ordinary guy. He's not a magical warrior-monk-poet like January, or a metaphorical goddess of magic and death like Blood Raven. He is constantly thinking "Life sure got weird since I met Stormcrow" His own meta-human powers aside, he is still a dude who likes hanging out at the bar and watching basketball with his buds, tries to avoid drama with whatever girlfriend he happens to be dating at the time, eats dinner with Ma and Pa every Sunday night, etc... He's just, normal, which is very refreshing with all the magical weirdness that otherwise packs these stories.
Blood Raven was alive during Prohibition. So she remembers how it not only did nothing to slow down alcohol consumption, but also turned the Mafia into a powerhouse. History may not exactly repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.
That is great to hear about Ryo. Having representation - of everyone - is important to me. Both because I know what is is like to never see people like myself in movies or TV shows (except when they want a monster to kill). And also because, like, reality. The real world is a rainbow of diversity. I would like everyone to feel seen when reading my work.
Ryo himself is 5th Generation Japanese-American. His family came to the US around 1900 or so. First to California. They were interred in WW2, and lost everything. After that they moved to Detroit for work (probably in the auto industry, but I never worked out the deets). Before that they came from the Iga region of Japan (the heart of ninja country.).
I have never worked out the details on where that family sword came from, except his family had it since before they came to America. They might be from one of those rare samurai-ninja families like that of Hattori Hanzō, and their sword might go back to some ancestor in the Warring States period. Or it might be one of those kyū guntō from the post Meji Restoration, when officers in the army were issued katanas.
January is starting to have an actual career (outside of superheroing). That is going to have its ups and downs in the future of course. But mostly ups.
Veia is one of the locations I created for Seven Reimagined. It is a crossroads city, not important because it is somewhere special, but because it leads to everywhere special. So people from all over the world are constantly moving through there. Sort of like Constantinople. Since January is an writer, I decided that that story and those characters are hers. I imagine sometime in the far future, maybe season 3 or 4, she will go on a cross-multiverse adventure in which she will be physically transported there, and will meet her characters and take part in an adventure with them. In between going to other universes as well.
The Bob Ross Painting in question
Zero from Code Geass
Strike Witches
Nine Days Chakra Mode from Naruto
Book 9.9 - Ashes
He led her into another building, again built in a distinctly Japanese flavor. It had a high ceiling like the other structures, and the single room within lent it an impression of great space. She could not even imagine the kinds of woods that were used in the construction. But she did recognize a sweet whiff of cedar.
Several long tables ran the center of the room. The rest of the space was packed wall to wall with racks of varying materials. Some were ordinary cloth, like cotton or wool. Others were more enigmatic, and January imagined they might be armored materials such as kevlar or dragon silk. Ingots of various metals were stacked in places, and a cluster of bowls revealed a wealth of rough, uncut gemstones and other bits and bobs.
"This is what I do," Blackwood waved his hands about to show off the workroom. "I create art. Even if what I have created for you is not exactly a masterpiece. More like a Bob Ross."
"Hey, I like Bob Ross!" January insisted.
"As do I!" Mr. Blackwood laughed. He pointed to a canvas on the wall. It depicted a snowy mountain in the background, wreathed in an icy blue aurora. In the foreground lay a frozen lake, and snow-covered cabin. It was simple and beautiful, much like the man who had painted it.
January felt a chill just looking at the wintry scene, which was so different from everything in the tropical paradise around her. She wondered if that was why Blackwood had that particular picture. It was not like he was ever going to see snow in the Virgin Islands.
"Is that an original?" January gaped. She had never owned an original anything. Except for some of the sketches that Rus had sometimes given her. Prints and posters were the nearest she ever got to owning actual artwork.
"I purchased it from his production company after he passed," Blackwood said, the pride clear in his voice. "Did you know that for every episode of his show on the telly, he painted three versions of the same artwork - one before the show, one during it, and one after? He was a man who saw what he wanted and just went and did it. He did not procrastinate or vacillate. He simply got it done. I think you share that with him. For my part, I tend to try so hard to be perfect that I nitpick every little thing. Sometimes it can take me forever to actually finish. He reminds me to crack on and do it, and that mistakes are simply happy accidents."
Suddenly Blackwood did not feel like a super icon, the glitzy fashion designer to superhuman heroes and foes. Rather he was plainly revealed to be just a man, albeit one with artistic vision. If not for the tropical mansion, he could be any struggling artist with a paint board and easel, or sewing machine and sketchpad.
"Now, I do have something for you." Blackwood stepped over to one wall and typed upon a keypad there. Then he pressed his thumb against its small screen. With that a section of the ceiling split apart above him. A moment later a metal platform lowered itself down from the opening created overhead. It was ringed by a safety rail with a fine mesh that would prevent small objects from falling off. The old man stepped aboard, and gestured for her to join him.
January moved beside him, and they rode the secret elevator up to the second floor of the building. Within lay a forest of mannequins. But these were not the kind she was used to seeing in a store. Instead they appeared to be 3D printed, and each was unique. They were different sizes, different shapes, different sexes, and the like. Each was attached to a small metal base labeled with a barcode and a name. She recognized many of the latter: The Veil, Stinger, White Fell, Thunderbolt, Riven, and so on.
They were all superheroes.
Blackwood led her to one of the mannequins. This one was fully clad in black armor. Her armor. It was an exact duplicate. January could barely discern a difference between the suit she wore, and the one staring back at her from the mannequin labeled with her name.
"I use the remotes I give my customers to create these models," Mr. Blackwood explained. "That allows me to fit the finished product to them. But since the way one's attire lays can differ from how one is formed, I shall direct you to our fitting room. Then I can make any final alterations as required."
The meta-designer pressed a foot down on the base of the mannequin. The platform it stood upon hummed to life, and rose up a few inches in the air. Taking the dummy in one hand, he easily towed it across the space to a small room built into one corner. He took it inside, then made way for January. She stepped within to find one of the nicest changing rooms she had ever seen. The cedar walls and floor lent the air within a pleasant scent, and the wooden bench within was made of sandy-toned pine. A full length mirror took up one wall, and a rack for which to hang clothing stood above a small table.
"Have no fear, there are no recording devices within," Blackwood insisted. "In fact, this entire building is shielded from such things."
He shut the door behind January, and left her to her own devices. January took off her old armor once piece at a time. It was something she was not used to. Normally she just magically swapped it with whatever ordinary clothing she had been wearing last. But that would not help her here. As Hannah had discovered when she had attempted her striptease - had that been just a week ago? - armor was not made for ease of donning. It was made to protect.
But soon enough she had taken off her old suit and began to work her way into the new one. She instantly noted that the base layer of fibers felt different. That was no surprise. The old suit had been made of hagfish slime. This new one was entirely of Blackwood's meta-materials. His new fibers joined together in a latticework of interlocking hexagons. It reminded January of paintings that were made up of tiny dots, that all blended together to make a single, coherent image. Only in this case it was these hexes that seemingly snapped together to create her attire.
The other thing she quickly noted was that the metal plates that sheathed her chests, forearms, and shins were lighter than the cubic born nitride of her old armor. Again, it was no surprise. She had told the super clothier that she did not want armor, just a suit. They still seemed quite solid however.
She also soon discovered that Blackwood had not exactly duplicated the old suit. There were little alterations. Most notably the tunic that sheathed her torso fell down farther across her hips than the original suit, with slits at the bottom of either side to allow for great freedom of movement. As she cinched up her new utility belt over it, she found that this tunic had a more comfortable fit. With more material stretching down beneath it, there was extra space for it to slide up and down. She would not be accidentally baring her belly button or underwear in this suit. She also noted a few hidden compartments sewn into the ankles and wrists. They were small, just large enough to perhaps slide a set of lock picking tools, or a slender knife, within.
She took the time to empty the contents of her old belt into the new one. Grenades, business cards, water bottle, antitoxin, makeup, money, spare burner phones, and more, it was everything a girl needed for a good time. Finally she was completely suited up, and took a moment to look at herself in the mirror.
A superhero stared back her. That was hardly a surprise after all. But for a moment, it really sank in that this was her, not someone else on TV or the internet. This was her. She was doing it. She was really doing it. She was Stormcrow.
She stepped out of the changing room to find Blackwood patiently reading a book about Lady Diana. A pair of reading glasses perched upon the end of his nose, and he looked like anyone's old English grandpa. He looked up at the sound of the door, and set down the book with a grin.
"Well, come on then, how is it?" he asked.
"I like it!" January declared with absolute certainty. "Especially the little additions you made. You think of everything. I am wondering though, what is this metal made of?"
January tapped the black breastplate, which was adorned with her trademark white raven banner logo.
"It is a titanium alloy, combined with some of my own personal meta-materials," Blackwood explained. "I know you did not want true armor. But it is the weakest form of metal I employ, aside from artistic flourishes with bronze or brass of course. It is paramagnetic, so it won't make you the puppet of anyone with magnetism. It is also non-conductive, and possessed of an extremely high resistance to heat."
"How high?" January wondered offhandedly.
"The melting point is a little over 2,000 Celsius," Blackwood murmured.
"So that is what, about enough to cook hot dogs with?" January replied. She was tempted to look it up with Sága. It was not like she had any idea what metric measurements really meant after all.
"A little more than that," Blackwood laughed. "You can swim in magma in that suit - metal and fiber - and it won't melt or burn. Of course how you hold up is another question entirely."
January thought of the firewing they had fought during Jobbie Nooner, and the volcano they had taken it to afterward. She might just be testing that out one day.
The old man helped her transfer Sága from her old arm guard to the new one. The meta-designer had to make some alterations to the new suit's forearm, so that the electronics would fit just right. As she had seen before, he simply waved a hand over the material, and it reshaped itself according to his will. In no time at all her digital assistant was up and running.
Then he did the same to migrate the electronics from her old helmet to the new one. The new headgear was also lighter, and fit much closer to her face. It still bore a hole in the back to pull her hair out through. But she found that could be sealed up if she wished, and she tried that out. Instead she let her hair spill down the nape of her neck, out of sight beneath the fibers of the tunic below.
Once everything was all squared away the super fashion designer bid her to put the armor through its paces. January found that it was a little tight when she raised her arms above her head, and he immediately went to work altering the fit. He did not ask her to take it off. Instead he laid his hands upon the material, and it reformed beneath his fingers, changing its cut to suit his desire. In moments it fit perfectly.
Once that was taken care of she went through an entire gymnastics routine. It was a tour de force of somersaults, handsprings, back handsprings, aerial cartwheels, roundoffs, walkovers, scissor leaps, and the like. January pulled out all the stops, and performed every maneuver she knew. There were a few more tweaks afterward to insure that she still possessed a full range of movement, especially after she did the splits. The end result was even freer and better-fitting than her old suit that Gadget had built. There was certainly something to be said for a professionally tailored suit!
"You would be really good at making cosplay outfits..." she found herself murmuring. "I know people who would love your stuff."
"Oh I do create cosplay attire!" Blackwood laughed. "It is something of a second line of income. There are only so many people such as yourself after all. Jean-Paul simply adores anime. I remember when we called them cartoons... Some of the designs are simply phenomenal. Not to mention physics-defying. They can be a real challenge for me to sink my teeth into."
January thought of Zero's gravity-defying collar in Code Geass, or the weird plane-legs of the protagonists from Strike Witches. She could not imagine how anyone could do Nine-Tails Chakra Mode in Naruto, at least not without burning down the house, or the wearer.
"I guess you would have your work cut out for you," January laughed. Then her face became more serious. "I am sorry I was critical of you before. It was out of turn. Frostbite got me feeling salty, and I guess I was looking for someone to punch."
"Apology accepted," Blackwood smiled and bowed slightly. "Now, about your old suit, did you have any plans for it?"
"Plans?" January wondered.
"Some people like to keep all of their old suits as memorabilia," Blackwood explained. "Others auction them off for charity and the like. If you did not have anything such as that in mind, I always accept material donations. I can recycle any old suit into something new."
"Oh, oh," January finally understood. Not just what he was getting at, but what else was left unsaid.
"About paying you," January picked her words carefully. "I thought Blood Raven..."
"Oh no, that is all taken care of, not that I really charge that much, especially from clients at the start of their careers." Blackwood insisted with a wave of his hands. "As I said, I have other lines of income, such as creating costumes for the Met Gala. I really was just wondering what you would like to do with the old attire."
"I don't know," January made a face as she thought. Her first instinct was indeed to just give the suit to him. But on the other hand what he had said about charity was appealing. She might be able to do something good with it. If so, it would be a shame to pass up that opportunity.
"I think I'll keep it for now," January said. "Maybe I will give it away for a good cause. Or maybe someone else might need it someday."
"Very well, I shall have it sent to the usual address." Blackwood nodded.
"The usual address?" January asked. "You mean you can just mail it?"
"Of course," Blackwood replied. "I employ a bonded courier service, with 24 hour shipping worldwide. That is how I do most of my business. Customers rarely come here themselves. Usually they do just when they want a vacation."
January smiled, and shook her head. Was this Blood Raven's idea of a vacation? Or was it simply as she had said, that it was time for her to meet more people in the community, such as Harper and Kaelin at the Aura, or Mr. Blackwood himself? Or perhaps it was both?
I am not sure what alignment January is. I never really liked how that worked. January herself seems to always end up Lawful Good in every crpg because of her actions. But she really does not care much about what the law or tradition says. She knows all to well that laws are often merely the pretexts that oppressors create in order to marginalize and dehumanize their victims. She just does what she thinks is right.
Renee: That is Michael Caine. He has been in every movie!
Yes, Blackwood means it when he says his place is neutral ground. He makes suits for everyone. But he's not going to tolerate people slugging it out in his house. As January noted, he is Switzerland.
I wish the anti-shark fin guy was real too...
WellTemperedClavier: Wow, you have been on a tear!
I enjoy writing Lighthammer. He not only has a good power set, that I think would be fun to play in an RPG, but he is an ordinary guy. He's not a magical warrior-monk-poet like January, or a metaphorical goddess of magic and death like Blood Raven. He is constantly thinking "Life sure got weird since I met Stormcrow" His own meta-human powers aside, he is still a dude who likes hanging out at the bar and watching basketball with his buds, tries to avoid drama with whatever girlfriend he happens to be dating at the time, eats dinner with Ma and Pa every Sunday night, etc... He's just, normal, which is very refreshing with all the magical weirdness that otherwise packs these stories.
Blood Raven was alive during Prohibition. So she remembers how it not only did nothing to slow down alcohol consumption, but also turned the Mafia into a powerhouse. History may not exactly repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.
That is great to hear about Ryo. Having representation - of everyone - is important to me. Both because I know what is is like to never see people like myself in movies or TV shows (except when they want a monster to kill). And also because, like, reality. The real world is a rainbow of diversity. I would like everyone to feel seen when reading my work.
Ryo himself is 5th Generation Japanese-American. His family came to the US around 1900 or so. First to California. They were interred in WW2, and lost everything. After that they moved to Detroit for work (probably in the auto industry, but I never worked out the deets). Before that they came from the Iga region of Japan (the heart of ninja country.).
I have never worked out the details on where that family sword came from, except his family had it since before they came to America. They might be from one of those rare samurai-ninja families like that of Hattori Hanzō, and their sword might go back to some ancestor in the Warring States period. Or it might be one of those kyū guntō from the post Meji Restoration, when officers in the army were issued katanas.
January is starting to have an actual career (outside of superheroing). That is going to have its ups and downs in the future of course. But mostly ups.
Veia is one of the locations I created for Seven Reimagined. It is a crossroads city, not important because it is somewhere special, but because it leads to everywhere special. So people from all over the world are constantly moving through there. Sort of like Constantinople. Since January is an writer, I decided that that story and those characters are hers. I imagine sometime in the far future, maybe season 3 or 4, she will go on a cross-multiverse adventure in which she will be physically transported there, and will meet her characters and take part in an adventure with them. In between going to other universes as well.
The Bob Ross Painting in question
Zero from Code Geass
Strike Witches
Nine Days Chakra Mode from Naruto
Book 9.9 - Ashes
He led her into another building, again built in a distinctly Japanese flavor. It had a high ceiling like the other structures, and the single room within lent it an impression of great space. She could not even imagine the kinds of woods that were used in the construction. But she did recognize a sweet whiff of cedar.
Several long tables ran the center of the room. The rest of the space was packed wall to wall with racks of varying materials. Some were ordinary cloth, like cotton or wool. Others were more enigmatic, and January imagined they might be armored materials such as kevlar or dragon silk. Ingots of various metals were stacked in places, and a cluster of bowls revealed a wealth of rough, uncut gemstones and other bits and bobs.
"This is what I do," Blackwood waved his hands about to show off the workroom. "I create art. Even if what I have created for you is not exactly a masterpiece. More like a Bob Ross."
"Hey, I like Bob Ross!" January insisted.
"As do I!" Mr. Blackwood laughed. He pointed to a canvas on the wall. It depicted a snowy mountain in the background, wreathed in an icy blue aurora. In the foreground lay a frozen lake, and snow-covered cabin. It was simple and beautiful, much like the man who had painted it.
January felt a chill just looking at the wintry scene, which was so different from everything in the tropical paradise around her. She wondered if that was why Blackwood had that particular picture. It was not like he was ever going to see snow in the Virgin Islands.
"Is that an original?" January gaped. She had never owned an original anything. Except for some of the sketches that Rus had sometimes given her. Prints and posters were the nearest she ever got to owning actual artwork.
"I purchased it from his production company after he passed," Blackwood said, the pride clear in his voice. "Did you know that for every episode of his show on the telly, he painted three versions of the same artwork - one before the show, one during it, and one after? He was a man who saw what he wanted and just went and did it. He did not procrastinate or vacillate. He simply got it done. I think you share that with him. For my part, I tend to try so hard to be perfect that I nitpick every little thing. Sometimes it can take me forever to actually finish. He reminds me to crack on and do it, and that mistakes are simply happy accidents."
Suddenly Blackwood did not feel like a super icon, the glitzy fashion designer to superhuman heroes and foes. Rather he was plainly revealed to be just a man, albeit one with artistic vision. If not for the tropical mansion, he could be any struggling artist with a paint board and easel, or sewing machine and sketchpad.
"Now, I do have something for you." Blackwood stepped over to one wall and typed upon a keypad there. Then he pressed his thumb against its small screen. With that a section of the ceiling split apart above him. A moment later a metal platform lowered itself down from the opening created overhead. It was ringed by a safety rail with a fine mesh that would prevent small objects from falling off. The old man stepped aboard, and gestured for her to join him.
January moved beside him, and they rode the secret elevator up to the second floor of the building. Within lay a forest of mannequins. But these were not the kind she was used to seeing in a store. Instead they appeared to be 3D printed, and each was unique. They were different sizes, different shapes, different sexes, and the like. Each was attached to a small metal base labeled with a barcode and a name. She recognized many of the latter: The Veil, Stinger, White Fell, Thunderbolt, Riven, and so on.
They were all superheroes.
Blackwood led her to one of the mannequins. This one was fully clad in black armor. Her armor. It was an exact duplicate. January could barely discern a difference between the suit she wore, and the one staring back at her from the mannequin labeled with her name.
"I use the remotes I give my customers to create these models," Mr. Blackwood explained. "That allows me to fit the finished product to them. But since the way one's attire lays can differ from how one is formed, I shall direct you to our fitting room. Then I can make any final alterations as required."
The meta-designer pressed a foot down on the base of the mannequin. The platform it stood upon hummed to life, and rose up a few inches in the air. Taking the dummy in one hand, he easily towed it across the space to a small room built into one corner. He took it inside, then made way for January. She stepped within to find one of the nicest changing rooms she had ever seen. The cedar walls and floor lent the air within a pleasant scent, and the wooden bench within was made of sandy-toned pine. A full length mirror took up one wall, and a rack for which to hang clothing stood above a small table.
"Have no fear, there are no recording devices within," Blackwood insisted. "In fact, this entire building is shielded from such things."
He shut the door behind January, and left her to her own devices. January took off her old armor once piece at a time. It was something she was not used to. Normally she just magically swapped it with whatever ordinary clothing she had been wearing last. But that would not help her here. As Hannah had discovered when she had attempted her striptease - had that been just a week ago? - armor was not made for ease of donning. It was made to protect.
But soon enough she had taken off her old suit and began to work her way into the new one. She instantly noted that the base layer of fibers felt different. That was no surprise. The old suit had been made of hagfish slime. This new one was entirely of Blackwood's meta-materials. His new fibers joined together in a latticework of interlocking hexagons. It reminded January of paintings that were made up of tiny dots, that all blended together to make a single, coherent image. Only in this case it was these hexes that seemingly snapped together to create her attire.
The other thing she quickly noted was that the metal plates that sheathed her chests, forearms, and shins were lighter than the cubic born nitride of her old armor. Again, it was no surprise. She had told the super clothier that she did not want armor, just a suit. They still seemed quite solid however.
She also soon discovered that Blackwood had not exactly duplicated the old suit. There were little alterations. Most notably the tunic that sheathed her torso fell down farther across her hips than the original suit, with slits at the bottom of either side to allow for great freedom of movement. As she cinched up her new utility belt over it, she found that this tunic had a more comfortable fit. With more material stretching down beneath it, there was extra space for it to slide up and down. She would not be accidentally baring her belly button or underwear in this suit. She also noted a few hidden compartments sewn into the ankles and wrists. They were small, just large enough to perhaps slide a set of lock picking tools, or a slender knife, within.
She took the time to empty the contents of her old belt into the new one. Grenades, business cards, water bottle, antitoxin, makeup, money, spare burner phones, and more, it was everything a girl needed for a good time. Finally she was completely suited up, and took a moment to look at herself in the mirror.
A superhero stared back her. That was hardly a surprise after all. But for a moment, it really sank in that this was her, not someone else on TV or the internet. This was her. She was doing it. She was really doing it. She was Stormcrow.
She stepped out of the changing room to find Blackwood patiently reading a book about Lady Diana. A pair of reading glasses perched upon the end of his nose, and he looked like anyone's old English grandpa. He looked up at the sound of the door, and set down the book with a grin.
"Well, come on then, how is it?" he asked.
"I like it!" January declared with absolute certainty. "Especially the little additions you made. You think of everything. I am wondering though, what is this metal made of?"
January tapped the black breastplate, which was adorned with her trademark white raven banner logo.
"It is a titanium alloy, combined with some of my own personal meta-materials," Blackwood explained. "I know you did not want true armor. But it is the weakest form of metal I employ, aside from artistic flourishes with bronze or brass of course. It is paramagnetic, so it won't make you the puppet of anyone with magnetism. It is also non-conductive, and possessed of an extremely high resistance to heat."
"How high?" January wondered offhandedly.
"The melting point is a little over 2,000 Celsius," Blackwood murmured.
"So that is what, about enough to cook hot dogs with?" January replied. She was tempted to look it up with Sága. It was not like she had any idea what metric measurements really meant after all.
"A little more than that," Blackwood laughed. "You can swim in magma in that suit - metal and fiber - and it won't melt or burn. Of course how you hold up is another question entirely."
January thought of the firewing they had fought during Jobbie Nooner, and the volcano they had taken it to afterward. She might just be testing that out one day.
The old man helped her transfer Sága from her old arm guard to the new one. The meta-designer had to make some alterations to the new suit's forearm, so that the electronics would fit just right. As she had seen before, he simply waved a hand over the material, and it reshaped itself according to his will. In no time at all her digital assistant was up and running.
Then he did the same to migrate the electronics from her old helmet to the new one. The new headgear was also lighter, and fit much closer to her face. It still bore a hole in the back to pull her hair out through. But she found that could be sealed up if she wished, and she tried that out. Instead she let her hair spill down the nape of her neck, out of sight beneath the fibers of the tunic below.
Once everything was all squared away the super fashion designer bid her to put the armor through its paces. January found that it was a little tight when she raised her arms above her head, and he immediately went to work altering the fit. He did not ask her to take it off. Instead he laid his hands upon the material, and it reformed beneath his fingers, changing its cut to suit his desire. In moments it fit perfectly.
Once that was taken care of she went through an entire gymnastics routine. It was a tour de force of somersaults, handsprings, back handsprings, aerial cartwheels, roundoffs, walkovers, scissor leaps, and the like. January pulled out all the stops, and performed every maneuver she knew. There were a few more tweaks afterward to insure that she still possessed a full range of movement, especially after she did the splits. The end result was even freer and better-fitting than her old suit that Gadget had built. There was certainly something to be said for a professionally tailored suit!
"You would be really good at making cosplay outfits..." she found herself murmuring. "I know people who would love your stuff."
"Oh I do create cosplay attire!" Blackwood laughed. "It is something of a second line of income. There are only so many people such as yourself after all. Jean-Paul simply adores anime. I remember when we called them cartoons... Some of the designs are simply phenomenal. Not to mention physics-defying. They can be a real challenge for me to sink my teeth into."
January thought of Zero's gravity-defying collar in Code Geass, or the weird plane-legs of the protagonists from Strike Witches. She could not imagine how anyone could do Nine-Tails Chakra Mode in Naruto, at least not without burning down the house, or the wearer.
"I guess you would have your work cut out for you," January laughed. Then her face became more serious. "I am sorry I was critical of you before. It was out of turn. Frostbite got me feeling salty, and I guess I was looking for someone to punch."
"Apology accepted," Blackwood smiled and bowed slightly. "Now, about your old suit, did you have any plans for it?"
"Plans?" January wondered.
"Some people like to keep all of their old suits as memorabilia," Blackwood explained. "Others auction them off for charity and the like. If you did not have anything such as that in mind, I always accept material donations. I can recycle any old suit into something new."
"Oh, oh," January finally understood. Not just what he was getting at, but what else was left unsaid.
"About paying you," January picked her words carefully. "I thought Blood Raven..."
"Oh no, that is all taken care of, not that I really charge that much, especially from clients at the start of their careers." Blackwood insisted with a wave of his hands. "As I said, I have other lines of income, such as creating costumes for the Met Gala. I really was just wondering what you would like to do with the old attire."
"I don't know," January made a face as she thought. Her first instinct was indeed to just give the suit to him. But on the other hand what he had said about charity was appealing. She might be able to do something good with it. If so, it would be a shame to pass up that opportunity.
"I think I'll keep it for now," January said. "Maybe I will give it away for a good cause. Or maybe someone else might need it someday."
"Very well, I shall have it sent to the usual address." Blackwood nodded.
"The usual address?" January asked. "You mean you can just mail it?"
"Of course," Blackwood replied. "I employ a bonded courier service, with 24 hour shipping worldwide. That is how I do most of my business. Customers rarely come here themselves. Usually they do just when they want a vacation."
January smiled, and shook her head. Was this Blood Raven's idea of a vacation? Or was it simply as she had said, that it was time for her to meet more people in the community, such as Harper and Kaelin at the Aura, or Mr. Blackwood himself? Or perhaps it was both?
A delightful reveal of the Stormcrow’s new uniform!
”He reminds me to crack on and do it, and that mistakes are simply happy accidents."
- - Ah yes, the conflict between perfection and progress. In my former life, we often needed to create tactical plans in a time crunch. At a certain point in the preparation cycle a wise commander would end the planning efforts with words such as, “The time for ‘No more good ideas’ has arrived; a good plan executed in a timely manner is superior to a perfect plan that is ready too late to influence the outcome.”
Lots of subtle improvements in the 2.0 version of Stormcrow’s armor. I like that there will certainly be no confusion about who she is, and also that most of Gadget’s gizmo features were incorporated.
Nice touch of her to apologize to Blackwood for her earlier criticism of how he chooses to do business. I’m glad they had that discussion in the previous episode so they could both learn from and understand each other better.
”He reminds me to crack on and do it, and that mistakes are simply happy accidents."
- - Ah yes, the conflict between perfection and progress. In my former life, we often needed to create tactical plans in a time crunch. At a certain point in the preparation cycle a wise commander would end the planning efforts with words such as, “The time for ‘No more good ideas’ has arrived; a good plan executed in a timely manner is superior to a perfect plan that is ready too late to influence the outcome.”
Lots of subtle improvements in the 2.0 version of Stormcrow’s armor. I like that there will certainly be no confusion about who she is, and also that most of Gadget’s gizmo features were incorporated.
Nice touch of her to apologize to Blackwood for her earlier criticism of how he chooses to do business. I’m glad they had that discussion in the previous episode so they could both learn from and understand each other better.
Acadian: This is January's 3rd costume upgrade of the season. From here on out I do not see her having any major wardrobe changes however. It is hard to top Blackwood's handiwork.
Yep, sometimes you just need to "Git 'er done!" rather than make it pretty. Been there, done that a lot.
January taking out her displaced aggression on Blackwood was a part of who she is - a fighter. Her apologizing afterward was also a part of who she is - empathetic. I wanted both to show that she is not perfect, but that she does have a good heart.
Salamander
The Soufrière Hills Volcano
Book 9.10 - Ashes
"You must come and see this!" Jean-Paul burst into the room with wild eyes. January was instantly on her guard. Her wings sprouted from her back, and flexed expectantly, ready for action. She stretched out with her astral senses. But other than the three of them, she sensed no others in the nearby area.
The young Frenchman waved for them to follow, and darted from the room. January and Mr. Blackwood followed him back to the main house. There she saw the root of his concern. Displayed upon a giant flatscreen TV was a scene from what looked like a post- apocalyptic film. The land was all dead gray ash and bare stone where nothing lived. As if to add flavor, pools of red hot lava dotted the stony ground, sending plumes of steam and smoke into the sky.
As January watched, the camera focused in sharply at the head of the column of destruction. Quite plainly she saw a creature of black stone and bright magma. It crawled along the ground like a lizard. Its claws and fangs glowed with white heat, and its eyes burned like suns. After a few moments the picture zoomed back out again, and January saw that beyond the blasted landscape of ash and dust, a line of green hills rose up, crowned with tropical trees. Woven through this wooded landscape were roads, and houses, and people. All of them right in the path of the monster.
"That's a salamander!" January cried. She brought up Sága, and punched in Gadget's number. While she waited for him to pick up, she looked back to Jean-Paul.
"Where is that?" she asked.
"Montserrat, the Soufrière Hills," he replied. "It is just a few islands over from here."
"This isn't the best time," Gadget's bleary tones came back through Sága's interface. "I'm kind of out of pocket right now."
"Spent the night at some hot young stud's place?" January could not resist the tease, before she became more serious. "Sorry to wake you up. You know what, I can call Cray instead."
"No, I know what calling this line means," Gadget asked, sounding all business now. "Just give me a minute to get dressed, and then I can head down to the car."
"No, it's cool, enjoy your Sunday," January insisted. "Live your life for a change. None of us get to do that enough anymore. You deserve it. I'll get Cray, and Blood Raven."
"No," he insisted. "I knew what this life meant when we started this. I am in this."
"We don't all have to be on duty every minute," January shook her head. "That's part of being a team. Look at me, I've been out of things for a whole week. Now shut your phone off and enjoy the awkward morning after. You never know, you might just have fun."
January did not wait for him to reply. Instead she disconnected the call, and immediately punched up Cray. She stared back at the TV screen, and watched as the salamander wended its way across a landscape already blackened and gray with old ash. She had no idea where the Soufrière Hills were. But at least it looked uninhabited. But how long until the fire elemental reached that part of the island that was filled with life? What would happen then?
"Cray here," the hacker's mellow tones rose up in January's ears. "What is up?"
"Turn on Worldwide Network News," January said. While he did, she turned back to Jean-Paul and Mr. Blackwood. "Which way is it?"
The two men blinked, and then lifted their arms to point to the south and east. January turned. She was out the door and on the deck with a single bound. Then she thought of something, and turned back to the men.
"Do you have Frostbite's number?" she asked. "Can you get her to call me?"
"Now?" Jean-Paul looked perplexed. But Mr. Blackwood seemed to understand January's intent, for he nodded and began to tap the screen of his phone.
January did not wait around to see the results. Instead she rocketed skyward and turned in the direction that they had indicated. She cut across the island of Virgin Gorda and its major city in just moments. Then the truly open sea spread out before her. She beat her wings upward to gain a few hundred more feet in altitude. But even with the extra distance that gave her to the horizon, there was no land in sight, except behind her. She would have to rely upon Cray to guide her to her destination.
At least she knew from experience that she could easily stay aloft for hours. And if worse came to worse, she could breathe water. Still, she eyed the deep blue beneath her with a twinge of trepidation. The sapphire waves were undeniably lovely. But what lay beneath them? How deep into the abyss did their depths plunge? What manner of creatures haunted such lightless domains? And how often did they rise to the surface to hunt?
January knew that she was being silly. She as a real life superhero. She had fought werebears and ghosts after all. But she could not deny a twinge of thalassophobia when she gazed down at the endless waves. Perhaps it was from watching the movie Jaws at too young an age. Or maybe it was reading too much Lovecraft. Or it might just have been the never-ending expanse of open water, where every direction looked the same, and there was nothing but the smothering monotony of the waves.
"I'm no expert, but that sure looks like a fire elemental to me," Cray's voice returned to her ear. He sounded remarkably calm, given the circumstances. But then he always did.
"That is a pyrkaïá pódi, a firefoot." Blood Raven's voice now joined the conversation. "It is a type of salamander that also bears powers of Earth. It can be no coincidence that such a thing appears but a week after we faced one of its cousins at Gull Island."
"Could it be the Hierophant?" January wondered. Her stomach tightened at the thought. At the same time her blood boiled. She was looking forward to ending that particular individual.
"Perhaps," Blood Raven mused, "but perhaps not. Cray, has there been any recent volcanic activity on that island, especially within the last week?"
"Let me see..." The sound of plastic keys clacking came faintly over the link. "Well guess what happened there last Friday afternoon, just before Jobbie Nooner? A new fumarole opened up near the summit of the Soufrière Hills volcano. It's been venting gas and small lava flows ever since."
"So this is where last week's firewing came from," January declared. "Maybe the Hierophant came back for another one?"
"I don't see anyone like him on the news copter footage we have of this beastie." Cray noted. "Or anyone trying to control or corral this thing. It is just wandering on its own."
"I suspect that when they called up the firewing last week, they may have unwittingly awakened this creature from its own slumber as well." Blood Raven's voice was thoughtful. "In any case, I am presently in Ann Arbor. My teleportation network has a nearby waypoint. Through it I shall be in Nassau in minutes."
"By the time you get there, and then get to Montserrat, it's going to be all over," January shook her head. "Besides, if this is the prelude to another attack by the Hierophant, you need to be where you are."
"Are you prepared to face this being alone?" Blood Raven asked. "It is not as powerful as the firewing. But it is still formidable."
"Yeah, I think so," January replied. "You showed me what to do at Jobbie Nooner and Mount St. Helens. I can handle this. Besides, I might not have to do it by myself."
As if summoned by her words, an audible click announced that another party had joined the conference call.
"Is this the little birdy?" a voice with a distinctive Eastern European accent came over the line. "I was not expecting you to take me seriously."
"If you still want to show me that mazurka, I'm game," January insisted. "Have you seen the news?"
"I am watching the fire beast right now," Frostbite replied. "It looks spicy."
"Care to join me in Montserrat?" January asked. "With your ice powers, you'd be a real asset."
"Do you have me mistaken for someone else?" the Polish woman laughed. "You white hats can play with monsters all you like. I will watch on the TV."
"Don't you want to show the world what you can do?" January tried a different tack. "Think of it as an audition tape. People might want to hire you for... whatever nefarious deeds it is you do."
"I need no audition," the other woman scoffed. "You are the one who loves the cameras. I do not need such... exposure."
"Then we'll pay you." January offered. "I don't know what the going rate is for a meta-mercenary, but I am sure we can come to some sort of deal."
"We will not!" Blood Raven insisted.
"And we don't have money to just toss around," Cray added, "especially not after all of our recent expenditures on attire."
The supervillain laughed. It was a sound that grated on January's ears.
"For once, I agree with the white hats," she said. "Is that what your hat's color is Blood Raven? Or is it several shades darker?"
"Come to Detroit and bear witness to it yourself," Blood Raven growled.
"Perhaps one day, but not today," the supervillain chuckled softly. "As I say, I am on holiday, and this bar on the beach has the most delicious tropical drinks. Bye-bye little birdie. I shall watch you on the big screen. Entertain me."
"Really, you're not afraid of a fight are you?" January tried yet another approach. She was disappointed when Frostbite laughed at her again.
"Who do you think I am, Marty McFly?" she scoffed. "I have no fragile masculinity for such transparent ploys to work upon. Goodbye little girl."
Another click denoted that she had disconnected. January scowled in frustration.
"I am sorry Stormcrow," Blood Raven intoned, "one cannot always reach other people, especially not people such as that. Instead place your steadfast faith within your own force of arms. You shall prevail."
Yep, sometimes you just need to "Git 'er done!" rather than make it pretty. Been there, done that a lot.
January taking out her displaced aggression on Blackwood was a part of who she is - a fighter. Her apologizing afterward was also a part of who she is - empathetic. I wanted both to show that she is not perfect, but that she does have a good heart.
Salamander
The Soufrière Hills Volcano
Book 9.10 - Ashes
"You must come and see this!" Jean-Paul burst into the room with wild eyes. January was instantly on her guard. Her wings sprouted from her back, and flexed expectantly, ready for action. She stretched out with her astral senses. But other than the three of them, she sensed no others in the nearby area.
The young Frenchman waved for them to follow, and darted from the room. January and Mr. Blackwood followed him back to the main house. There she saw the root of his concern. Displayed upon a giant flatscreen TV was a scene from what looked like a post- apocalyptic film. The land was all dead gray ash and bare stone where nothing lived. As if to add flavor, pools of red hot lava dotted the stony ground, sending plumes of steam and smoke into the sky.
As January watched, the camera focused in sharply at the head of the column of destruction. Quite plainly she saw a creature of black stone and bright magma. It crawled along the ground like a lizard. Its claws and fangs glowed with white heat, and its eyes burned like suns. After a few moments the picture zoomed back out again, and January saw that beyond the blasted landscape of ash and dust, a line of green hills rose up, crowned with tropical trees. Woven through this wooded landscape were roads, and houses, and people. All of them right in the path of the monster.
"That's a salamander!" January cried. She brought up Sága, and punched in Gadget's number. While she waited for him to pick up, she looked back to Jean-Paul.
"Where is that?" she asked.
"Montserrat, the Soufrière Hills," he replied. "It is just a few islands over from here."
"This isn't the best time," Gadget's bleary tones came back through Sága's interface. "I'm kind of out of pocket right now."
"Spent the night at some hot young stud's place?" January could not resist the tease, before she became more serious. "Sorry to wake you up. You know what, I can call Cray instead."
"No, I know what calling this line means," Gadget asked, sounding all business now. "Just give me a minute to get dressed, and then I can head down to the car."
"No, it's cool, enjoy your Sunday," January insisted. "Live your life for a change. None of us get to do that enough anymore. You deserve it. I'll get Cray, and Blood Raven."
"No," he insisted. "I knew what this life meant when we started this. I am in this."
"We don't all have to be on duty every minute," January shook her head. "That's part of being a team. Look at me, I've been out of things for a whole week. Now shut your phone off and enjoy the awkward morning after. You never know, you might just have fun."
January did not wait for him to reply. Instead she disconnected the call, and immediately punched up Cray. She stared back at the TV screen, and watched as the salamander wended its way across a landscape already blackened and gray with old ash. She had no idea where the Soufrière Hills were. But at least it looked uninhabited. But how long until the fire elemental reached that part of the island that was filled with life? What would happen then?
"Cray here," the hacker's mellow tones rose up in January's ears. "What is up?"
"Turn on Worldwide Network News," January said. While he did, she turned back to Jean-Paul and Mr. Blackwood. "Which way is it?"
The two men blinked, and then lifted their arms to point to the south and east. January turned. She was out the door and on the deck with a single bound. Then she thought of something, and turned back to the men.
"Do you have Frostbite's number?" she asked. "Can you get her to call me?"
"Now?" Jean-Paul looked perplexed. But Mr. Blackwood seemed to understand January's intent, for he nodded and began to tap the screen of his phone.
January did not wait around to see the results. Instead she rocketed skyward and turned in the direction that they had indicated. She cut across the island of Virgin Gorda and its major city in just moments. Then the truly open sea spread out before her. She beat her wings upward to gain a few hundred more feet in altitude. But even with the extra distance that gave her to the horizon, there was no land in sight, except behind her. She would have to rely upon Cray to guide her to her destination.
At least she knew from experience that she could easily stay aloft for hours. And if worse came to worse, she could breathe water. Still, she eyed the deep blue beneath her with a twinge of trepidation. The sapphire waves were undeniably lovely. But what lay beneath them? How deep into the abyss did their depths plunge? What manner of creatures haunted such lightless domains? And how often did they rise to the surface to hunt?
January knew that she was being silly. She as a real life superhero. She had fought werebears and ghosts after all. But she could not deny a twinge of thalassophobia when she gazed down at the endless waves. Perhaps it was from watching the movie Jaws at too young an age. Or maybe it was reading too much Lovecraft. Or it might just have been the never-ending expanse of open water, where every direction looked the same, and there was nothing but the smothering monotony of the waves.
"I'm no expert, but that sure looks like a fire elemental to me," Cray's voice returned to her ear. He sounded remarkably calm, given the circumstances. But then he always did.
"That is a pyrkaïá pódi, a firefoot." Blood Raven's voice now joined the conversation. "It is a type of salamander that also bears powers of Earth. It can be no coincidence that such a thing appears but a week after we faced one of its cousins at Gull Island."
"Could it be the Hierophant?" January wondered. Her stomach tightened at the thought. At the same time her blood boiled. She was looking forward to ending that particular individual.
"Perhaps," Blood Raven mused, "but perhaps not. Cray, has there been any recent volcanic activity on that island, especially within the last week?"
"Let me see..." The sound of plastic keys clacking came faintly over the link. "Well guess what happened there last Friday afternoon, just before Jobbie Nooner? A new fumarole opened up near the summit of the Soufrière Hills volcano. It's been venting gas and small lava flows ever since."
"So this is where last week's firewing came from," January declared. "Maybe the Hierophant came back for another one?"
"I don't see anyone like him on the news copter footage we have of this beastie." Cray noted. "Or anyone trying to control or corral this thing. It is just wandering on its own."
"I suspect that when they called up the firewing last week, they may have unwittingly awakened this creature from its own slumber as well." Blood Raven's voice was thoughtful. "In any case, I am presently in Ann Arbor. My teleportation network has a nearby waypoint. Through it I shall be in Nassau in minutes."
"By the time you get there, and then get to Montserrat, it's going to be all over," January shook her head. "Besides, if this is the prelude to another attack by the Hierophant, you need to be where you are."
"Are you prepared to face this being alone?" Blood Raven asked. "It is not as powerful as the firewing. But it is still formidable."
"Yeah, I think so," January replied. "You showed me what to do at Jobbie Nooner and Mount St. Helens. I can handle this. Besides, I might not have to do it by myself."
As if summoned by her words, an audible click announced that another party had joined the conference call.
"Is this the little birdy?" a voice with a distinctive Eastern European accent came over the line. "I was not expecting you to take me seriously."
"If you still want to show me that mazurka, I'm game," January insisted. "Have you seen the news?"
"I am watching the fire beast right now," Frostbite replied. "It looks spicy."
"Care to join me in Montserrat?" January asked. "With your ice powers, you'd be a real asset."
"Do you have me mistaken for someone else?" the Polish woman laughed. "You white hats can play with monsters all you like. I will watch on the TV."
"Don't you want to show the world what you can do?" January tried a different tack. "Think of it as an audition tape. People might want to hire you for... whatever nefarious deeds it is you do."
"I need no audition," the other woman scoffed. "You are the one who loves the cameras. I do not need such... exposure."
"Then we'll pay you." January offered. "I don't know what the going rate is for a meta-mercenary, but I am sure we can come to some sort of deal."
"We will not!" Blood Raven insisted.
"And we don't have money to just toss around," Cray added, "especially not after all of our recent expenditures on attire."
The supervillain laughed. It was a sound that grated on January's ears.
"For once, I agree with the white hats," she said. "Is that what your hat's color is Blood Raven? Or is it several shades darker?"
"Come to Detroit and bear witness to it yourself," Blood Raven growled.
"Perhaps one day, but not today," the supervillain chuckled softly. "As I say, I am on holiday, and this bar on the beach has the most delicious tropical drinks. Bye-bye little birdie. I shall watch you on the big screen. Entertain me."
"Really, you're not afraid of a fight are you?" January tried yet another approach. She was disappointed when Frostbite laughed at her again.
"Who do you think I am, Marty McFly?" she scoffed. "I have no fragile masculinity for such transparent ploys to work upon. Goodbye little girl."
Another click denoted that she had disconnected. January scowled in frustration.
"I am sorry Stormcrow," Blood Raven intoned, "one cannot always reach other people, especially not people such as that. Instead place your steadfast faith within your own force of arms. You shall prevail."
Blackwood's operation is neat, with all these materials and ideas and clothing stage developments. Random thought, but I bet the FBI & CIA have files on this guy, right? 
Can't really connect him with anything, but there's gotta be some suspicions. He's not hidden in some Batcave, nor is he in America itself, but he's sort of out in the open, with his opulent home.
And every time Blackwood speaks, I hear Caine's slightly raspy coffee 'n' cigarettes voice. "This is what I do. I create ahhht..."
Bob Ross is awesome. So relaxing to watch. Whoa, the mannequin room... I'd hate to see what sort of damage the Stinger can do.
Fokkinge awesome. What a fokkinge awesome paragraph.
Oh gosh no. Don't recycle the old suit. Send that back to Michigan, at least! Avery needs to be honoured. Um... honored. see, now I'm thinking like a Brit.
Can't really connect him with anything, but there's gotta be some suspicions. He's not hidden in some Batcave, nor is he in America itself, but he's sort of out in the open, with his opulent home. And every time Blackwood speaks, I hear Caine's slightly raspy coffee 'n' cigarettes voice. "This is what I do. I create ahhht..."
Bob Ross is awesome. So relaxing to watch. Whoa, the mannequin room... I'd hate to see what sort of damage the Stinger can do.
QUOTE
A superhero stared back her. That was hardly a surprise after all. But for a moment, it really sank in that this was her, not someone else on TV or the internet. This was her. She was doing it. She was really doing it. She was Stormcrow.
Fokkinge awesome. What a fokkinge awesome paragraph.
Oh gosh no. Don't recycle the old suit. Send that back to Michigan, at least! Avery needs to be honoured. Um... honored. see, now I'm thinking like a Brit.
Out of the tropical paradise and into the frying pan! A ground-bound dragon! 
No surprise by now that Jan was in the air and en route within moments of realizing there were people in the firefoot’s path. It really shows the strength and depth of her team that she is comfortable enough to rely on Cray instead of Gadget. Glad she’s got Cray and Blood Raven in her ear. Given the distances, not even the supersonic hammer of light could get there in time. A bold and optimistic move to try and enlist help from Frostbite who is at least in the neighborhood. Not to mention ice would be an appropriate weapon. Oh well.
Overall, this episode really showcased a lot of who Stormcrow has grown to be in that all her actions during this time-sensitive crisis made total sense for her. This could be the fight of her life coming up!
No surprise by now that Jan was in the air and en route within moments of realizing there were people in the firefoot’s path. It really shows the strength and depth of her team that she is comfortable enough to rely on Cray instead of Gadget. Glad she’s got Cray and Blood Raven in her ear. Given the distances, not even the supersonic hammer of light could get there in time. A bold and optimistic move to try and enlist help from Frostbite who is at least in the neighborhood. Not to mention ice would be an appropriate weapon. Oh well.
Overall, this episode really showcased a lot of who Stormcrow has grown to be in that all her actions during this time-sensitive crisis made total sense for her. This could be the fight of her life coming up!
Finished Blood Ties!
First love/romance is always a rush. Maybe even more of one in January's case, given her situation. And the sheer rush of relief she feels at being accepted really hits home. Hannah does indeed seem like a unicorn. At first.
I'm impressed at the way you seeded a few hints about Hannah's personality throughout their interactions. Reading it, I noted how she seemed kind of dismissive about things January cared about. In my experience, it's not that important for people in a relationship to share a lot of the same interests. But what is important is that they share the same values. One shouldn't be dismissive about the interests of the other. Yet this is exactly what we see here, so a reader can already surmise that this won't be as smooth of a road as January would like.
And it gets even harder with Julian's death. The story's already established that Julian's a pretty bad guy. But even bad guys have people who care about them, and in this case, that's January's family. The whole situation of informing the loved ones of what happened reinforces what you said were some of the themes in this story: that even where there are superheroes, there's a world outside of the battles. This brings it home in a heavy, meaningful way.
First love/romance is always a rush. Maybe even more of one in January's case, given her situation. And the sheer rush of relief she feels at being accepted really hits home. Hannah does indeed seem like a unicorn. At first.
I'm impressed at the way you seeded a few hints about Hannah's personality throughout their interactions. Reading it, I noted how she seemed kind of dismissive about things January cared about. In my experience, it's not that important for people in a relationship to share a lot of the same interests. But what is important is that they share the same values. One shouldn't be dismissive about the interests of the other. Yet this is exactly what we see here, so a reader can already surmise that this won't be as smooth of a road as January would like.
And it gets even harder with Julian's death. The story's already established that Julian's a pretty bad guy. But even bad guys have people who care about them, and in this case, that's January's family. The whole situation of informing the loved ones of what happened reinforces what you said were some of the themes in this story: that even where there are superheroes, there's a world outside of the battles. This brings it home in a heavy, meaningful way.
Renee: Lots of people would know about Blackwood. As he said himself, he makes costumes for the Met Gala. But yes, one of the reasons that he lives where he does is that he outside of the jurisdiction of both the US, Russia, China, and the other big world powers. All he really has to do is stay on the good side of the Virgin Islands government, and never has to worry about anything. Not that anyone has any reason to come after him. He's just a tailor. Plus he already makes costumes for everyone after all, including whoever would hypothetically be coming after him.
I don't think Avery is that sentimental about a suit. Then again, he will probably be keeping his own... nevermind. I don't expect there to be a gallery of old Stormcrow suits. But January might want to put the old suit up for auction some day and donate the money to a charity.
Acadian: I deliberately decided to write Cray into things here, to show Jan getting more used to relying upon him. It is going to become more and more of thing as future, things, happen with Avery (good things).
I put Frostbite in because. January has been really good at persuading people to take a better path, like Lighthammer, Isaac, Gola, etc... I wanted to show that she cannot always make her Persuasion rolls. There are always some people like Frostbite who simply can never be reached.
This will be one really insane fight coming up. One that will push January like no other ever has. She is going to be fighting an opponent who shares some of her own abilities.
WellTemperedClavier: Blood Ties was a big chapter/episode for January. The first romance is always a milestone in everyone's life. For most of us it is a learning experience, which is to say that it is usually not the person we end up with forever. January is no different. I deliberately put all those red flags out there as warning signs that Hannah was not the person for her, even without her racism against Japanese people. She was much too different from January. As you pointed out, she did not value the same things, let alone possess Jan's amount of empathy for others less privileged. Given that they are both supers - and caught up in this war against the Hierophant - it just accelerated everything at lightspeed.
Julian's death was originally going to come at the end of chapter/episode 10, which is the Season One finale. But I moved some things around and made some changes to the plot, and that brought things up. It is something that I have gone back and forth on for years. Because it changes a lot. Besides the personal loss in the family, there is the fact that having a supervillain in the family is something that will always be tied with January's civilian identity from now on, along with her mother's life.
Like most superhero stories, I tend to shy away from actual deaths. So far it is only the actions of the most reprehensible individuals that result in people being killed, or even inordinately harmed. I wanted to use Julian's death to bring home that fact that it is something shattering to the lives of all those left behind.
And working on the world outside of the capes is always an important part of my process. Every chapter/episode I try to have cape stuff happening, and personal things happening. January is not Batman. She isn't the cape. Stormcrow is just something she does because she needs to in order to make the world a better place. January is who she is, and always will be, and her friends are a huge part of that. They keep her sane, and give her a reason to be a part of the world, and insure that she can relate to 'regular' people, no matter how weird her super life becomes.
Today's theme music - Two Steps From Hell - Riders of the Apocalypse
As always Stormcrow's route can be followed on the Stormcrow Google Map
Montserrat
Montserrat Volcano Observatory
Lava Flows on the Soufrière Hills
Book 9.10 - Ashes
January set her eyes on the horizon. With a little help from Cray, she reoriented herself on a more direct path to Montserrat. Then she laid on the speed, and crowded out all other thoughts from her mind. She became Air. She became the hurricane. She poured her mana into that thought, and made it reality with her will. She cut across the sky like a black meteor, moving ever onward.
It took longer than she would have liked. But eventually land did come into view ahead of her and to her left. She had to admit, it was a relief to see after the seemingly endless monotony of the waves. But this was far too small of an island for it to be her destination. It was just a small lump rising from the ocean, crowned with lush greenery. She pushed on even harder, and passed by several more islands over her left shoulder, to her east. These were the right size, but Cray informed her that they too, were not her destination.
"Those are Nevis and St. Kitts," the hacker explained in his deep, mellow tones. "Don't worry, you are almost there."
She passed by one final, tiny isle. It was little more than a rock with sparse patches of scraggly grass clinging to its otherwise barren surface. Then she came upon her target.
Montserrat was a good-sized island. At least compared to the ones she had visited so far in the Caribbean. Like most of the others, it was rough and hilly, and covered in lush green vegetation. The waters that girded its coast were a mouth-watering shade of teal, and deepened to crystal blue sapphire as they stretched away into infinity. A few small boats cruised these serene waters, but nothing like the great fleet of vessels that swarmed about St.Thomas.
A thin finger of smoke clawed into the sky in the distance, near the southern end of the island. January oriented herself toward it, and winged over the shore. She passed by several towns, and gave the single landing strip of an airport a wide berth. She did not want to cause any air traffic accidents after all.
Soon enough January was over the densely forested hills in the center of the island. Or were they a mountain? There were numerous rounded peaks that bumped up above the rest of the highlands, rather than one single summit. The entire mass was a solid carpet of greenery, which made her heart sing with joy. Seeing life so unfettered and unspoiled by humanity always made her feel that way after all.
Once she had cleared the central peaks, a wide valley spread across the island from east to west beneath her. A line of brown ash ran through its lowest points, like a rust stain at the bottom of an old tub. The wide hills to the west - over her right shoulder - were crowned with verdant greenery. But to the east the landscape was a dead moonscape of old lava flows, now hardened into dry dust.
Beyond the valley to the south lay the Soufrière Hills. The highland took up the entire southern end of the island. Like the massif she had just passed, the volcano did not possess a single cone. Rather it was a rough knot of at least half-a-dozen rounded crests, and all bulged up around one another amidst gentle declines between each.
Half of the volcano was coated with a rich hide of green trees, brush, and grass. But the other half was a dead brown wasteland of ash and stone, completely denuded of all life. It was like rivers of death had rolled down the mountain, and stripped away everything in their passing as they plunged inexorably to the sea. Yet at the same time they had bypassed large swaths of greenery where nature continued to thrive even now, islands of life amidst the utter devastation.
It could not have happened recently. It was all too still and silent for that. Except for the cloud of mist that she saw gathered near one peak, the entire place looked still and serene. There she could see where a trickle of gas and smoke issued forth. Its source was a rough hole that had formed in the side of one slope. From it she could trace a line of fresh, red hot lava that splashed down the mountain in a winding line of puddles.
It did not flow like the videos she had seen of lava. Instead it was stagnant and still. More like a trail, rather than a river. The line of molten earth had turned black and still near the fumarole. It brightened to red, then orange, the farther away it went from the mountain. Still, ever downward it fell, until it suddenly turned north and moved upward over a hill.
That was definitely not normal for lava.
"Okay, some background," Cray spoke over the clacking of his keyboard. "In 1995 the previously dormant Soufrière Hills stratovolcano began a series of eruptions that covered half of the island. It has erupted on and off ever since. Two thirds of the island's population had to flee, and it even destroyed the old capital of Plymouth. You can see what's left of it down on your right, by the water. The entire southern half of the island has been cordoned off from occupation by an exclusion zone. That's the good part for us, you shouldn't have to worry about any civvies down there."
"And the bad part?" January was afraid to ask, but could not resist.
"The bad part is that our salamander friend just left the exclusion zone. He climbed up the central hills, and he's right on top of what looks to be the Montserrat Volcano Observatory. It's some kind of science station that monitors the volcano. I bet they were surprised when our new friend here crawled out of it today."
"I see it!" January's ears followed the beating of a helicopter's rotors. Her eyes found the aircraft hovering above a forested hill to the north of her. A line of flames cut through the greenery below, and traced out the route the salamander had taken. That was just beneath the helicopter. She banked hard and followed that trail of destruction.
Right in front of the trail of fire rose up a gray concrete structure that was either two or three stories tall. It was built on the hillside, so how high it was depended on what side one looked at it from. It had curved corners and a smooth facade that looked vaguely Spanish to January's untrained eye. A great radio antenna painted red and white rose up from behind it, and the parking lot beside it was nearly devoid of cars, but not entirely.
She could see one red pickup still in the lot. The salamander saw it too, for it changed its course and began to shuffle toward the car. January winged her way with all of her might. She drew closer with each second. She could see a bearded man behind the wheel, and another man with a shaved head in the passenger seat. Both stared at the fire elemental before them with eyes widened by horror.
The car was not moving. The whining sound of the engine failing to start explained the reason why. Again and again the driver tried to turn the motor over, but it refused to cooperate. Instead it protested in a loud, mechanical voice. That voice seemed to draw even more attention from the firefoot, who appeared to be considering the nature of the noisy metal creature before it.
It must have had enough, for the fire elemental reared its head back. January saw the rocky flesh around its chest glow orange, then red, and finally white. That light flowed up through its body and into its neck, and then its jaws. She saw its throat bulge. There was no doubting what was about to come next.
January slammed into the pavement with both feet directly in front of the vehicle. Concrete shattered under the impact, and rained down around her like hail. Her wings flared out to create a wide shield. An instant later the salamander vomited forth a gout of magma. The molten rock spewed across her body and her feathers. It felt like she had been struck by a car, a car on fire. But she was Earth. She was the mountain. She was adamant. She would not bend to any force.
Not a single drop of lava touched the pickup, or the men within it. Finally she heard the engine catch, and a moment later the screech of tires as the pickup raced back across the parking lot.
But January was still covered in lava. Mr. Blackwood had been correct. Her new suit had not melted under the assault. But it was hot. Oh goddess was it hot! She had never felt such an inferno. Not even in the worst of the Flying Dutchman fire. To make matters worse, the glop of the molten earth stuck to her body, making her feel like she had been weighed down by rocks, which... well... was true.
January turned her eyes to the sky. Except for the helicopter, there were no others around. The side doors of the aircraft were open, and she could see a WNN crew within filming the entire event. But it was far enough off to not get in her way. So it was safe to fully unleash her powers.
She grinned wolfishly.
January tore the firmament asunder and ripped down a ragged bolt of lightning. At the same time she leaped into the air. As at Jobbie Nooner, the lightning slammed into her and wreathed her in electricity. The lava that had caked her body was blasted off into flaming bits of dust. An instant later the force of the blast sent her hurtling back downward, directly into the salamander.
She brought down her elbow right atop its skull, with all of the force of the lightning behind her. Along with the hammer blow, a massive burst of electricity crashed into the fire elemental. This same attack had decapitated the onaire at Gull Island. She hoped it might likewise put the elemental down for the count, and finish the battle before it could even truly begin.
The world flashed white before January's eyes upon impact. She felt a shockwave ripple out from the blow, and roll through her body like a tidal wave of power. It threw her back up into the sky. She turned that into a backward somersault through the air, and snapped out with her wings. That brought her to a stop, and she hovered about a foot above the ground while she took stock of the situation.
The windows in the observatory had shattered. Nearby trees were now all bent outward, and several picnic benches had been thrown against the concrete walls of the science station. January saw no one within. To be certain, she took a moment to stretch out in the astral. She was gratified to find the entire building empty of all except a few insects. Apparently those two with the cranky engine had been the last people to flee.
She had not expected that to happen. It had not been like that at Gull Island. It was as if the power of her attack had rebounded back on her, and everything around. Did this elemental have a Uno reverse card?
The salamander itself had apparently stood firm through it all. Indeed, it was not even fazed by the assault. Before January could respond, it whipped its body around and brought its tail slashing through the air at her. She had no time to dodge aside, and it hit her full in the face. The tremendous force of the blow sent her careening through the air down the hill. Trees shattered beneath her, and she created a jagged scar through the greenery as she plunged through the forest. She did not stop until she was nearly a hundred feet down the slope.
"Stormcrow, are you ok?" Cray's voice sounded concerned.
"Ouch..." January murmured as she picked herself up onto her feet.
She raised one hand to her jaw, and moved it gingerly back and forth. Thankfully nothing was broken, but she did taste blood in her mouth, hot and coppery. She took a moment to brush the tephra from her shoulders. At least the creature had sent her flying to the south, back toward the exclusion zone. She lifted one hand, and curled her fingers inward to beckon the elemental toward her.
"Valhalla awaits."
I don't think Avery is that sentimental about a suit. Then again, he will probably be keeping his own... nevermind. I don't expect there to be a gallery of old Stormcrow suits. But January might want to put the old suit up for auction some day and donate the money to a charity.
Acadian: I deliberately decided to write Cray into things here, to show Jan getting more used to relying upon him. It is going to become more and more of thing as future, things, happen with Avery (good things).
I put Frostbite in because. January has been really good at persuading people to take a better path, like Lighthammer, Isaac, Gola, etc... I wanted to show that she cannot always make her Persuasion rolls. There are always some people like Frostbite who simply can never be reached.
This will be one really insane fight coming up. One that will push January like no other ever has. She is going to be fighting an opponent who shares some of her own abilities.
WellTemperedClavier: Blood Ties was a big chapter/episode for January. The first romance is always a milestone in everyone's life. For most of us it is a learning experience, which is to say that it is usually not the person we end up with forever. January is no different. I deliberately put all those red flags out there as warning signs that Hannah was not the person for her, even without her racism against Japanese people. She was much too different from January. As you pointed out, she did not value the same things, let alone possess Jan's amount of empathy for others less privileged. Given that they are both supers - and caught up in this war against the Hierophant - it just accelerated everything at lightspeed.
Julian's death was originally going to come at the end of chapter/episode 10, which is the Season One finale. But I moved some things around and made some changes to the plot, and that brought things up. It is something that I have gone back and forth on for years. Because it changes a lot. Besides the personal loss in the family, there is the fact that having a supervillain in the family is something that will always be tied with January's civilian identity from now on, along with her mother's life.
Like most superhero stories, I tend to shy away from actual deaths. So far it is only the actions of the most reprehensible individuals that result in people being killed, or even inordinately harmed. I wanted to use Julian's death to bring home that fact that it is something shattering to the lives of all those left behind.
And working on the world outside of the capes is always an important part of my process. Every chapter/episode I try to have cape stuff happening, and personal things happening. January is not Batman. She isn't the cape. Stormcrow is just something she does because she needs to in order to make the world a better place. January is who she is, and always will be, and her friends are a huge part of that. They keep her sane, and give her a reason to be a part of the world, and insure that she can relate to 'regular' people, no matter how weird her super life becomes.
Today's theme music - Two Steps From Hell - Riders of the Apocalypse
As always Stormcrow's route can be followed on the Stormcrow Google Map
Montserrat
Montserrat Volcano Observatory
Lava Flows on the Soufrière Hills
Book 9.10 - Ashes
January set her eyes on the horizon. With a little help from Cray, she reoriented herself on a more direct path to Montserrat. Then she laid on the speed, and crowded out all other thoughts from her mind. She became Air. She became the hurricane. She poured her mana into that thought, and made it reality with her will. She cut across the sky like a black meteor, moving ever onward.
It took longer than she would have liked. But eventually land did come into view ahead of her and to her left. She had to admit, it was a relief to see after the seemingly endless monotony of the waves. But this was far too small of an island for it to be her destination. It was just a small lump rising from the ocean, crowned with lush greenery. She pushed on even harder, and passed by several more islands over her left shoulder, to her east. These were the right size, but Cray informed her that they too, were not her destination.
"Those are Nevis and St. Kitts," the hacker explained in his deep, mellow tones. "Don't worry, you are almost there."
She passed by one final, tiny isle. It was little more than a rock with sparse patches of scraggly grass clinging to its otherwise barren surface. Then she came upon her target.
Montserrat was a good-sized island. At least compared to the ones she had visited so far in the Caribbean. Like most of the others, it was rough and hilly, and covered in lush green vegetation. The waters that girded its coast were a mouth-watering shade of teal, and deepened to crystal blue sapphire as they stretched away into infinity. A few small boats cruised these serene waters, but nothing like the great fleet of vessels that swarmed about St.Thomas.
A thin finger of smoke clawed into the sky in the distance, near the southern end of the island. January oriented herself toward it, and winged over the shore. She passed by several towns, and gave the single landing strip of an airport a wide berth. She did not want to cause any air traffic accidents after all.
Soon enough January was over the densely forested hills in the center of the island. Or were they a mountain? There were numerous rounded peaks that bumped up above the rest of the highlands, rather than one single summit. The entire mass was a solid carpet of greenery, which made her heart sing with joy. Seeing life so unfettered and unspoiled by humanity always made her feel that way after all.
Once she had cleared the central peaks, a wide valley spread across the island from east to west beneath her. A line of brown ash ran through its lowest points, like a rust stain at the bottom of an old tub. The wide hills to the west - over her right shoulder - were crowned with verdant greenery. But to the east the landscape was a dead moonscape of old lava flows, now hardened into dry dust.
Beyond the valley to the south lay the Soufrière Hills. The highland took up the entire southern end of the island. Like the massif she had just passed, the volcano did not possess a single cone. Rather it was a rough knot of at least half-a-dozen rounded crests, and all bulged up around one another amidst gentle declines between each.
Half of the volcano was coated with a rich hide of green trees, brush, and grass. But the other half was a dead brown wasteland of ash and stone, completely denuded of all life. It was like rivers of death had rolled down the mountain, and stripped away everything in their passing as they plunged inexorably to the sea. Yet at the same time they had bypassed large swaths of greenery where nature continued to thrive even now, islands of life amidst the utter devastation.
It could not have happened recently. It was all too still and silent for that. Except for the cloud of mist that she saw gathered near one peak, the entire place looked still and serene. There she could see where a trickle of gas and smoke issued forth. Its source was a rough hole that had formed in the side of one slope. From it she could trace a line of fresh, red hot lava that splashed down the mountain in a winding line of puddles.
It did not flow like the videos she had seen of lava. Instead it was stagnant and still. More like a trail, rather than a river. The line of molten earth had turned black and still near the fumarole. It brightened to red, then orange, the farther away it went from the mountain. Still, ever downward it fell, until it suddenly turned north and moved upward over a hill.
That was definitely not normal for lava.
"Okay, some background," Cray spoke over the clacking of his keyboard. "In 1995 the previously dormant Soufrière Hills stratovolcano began a series of eruptions that covered half of the island. It has erupted on and off ever since. Two thirds of the island's population had to flee, and it even destroyed the old capital of Plymouth. You can see what's left of it down on your right, by the water. The entire southern half of the island has been cordoned off from occupation by an exclusion zone. That's the good part for us, you shouldn't have to worry about any civvies down there."
"And the bad part?" January was afraid to ask, but could not resist.
"The bad part is that our salamander friend just left the exclusion zone. He climbed up the central hills, and he's right on top of what looks to be the Montserrat Volcano Observatory. It's some kind of science station that monitors the volcano. I bet they were surprised when our new friend here crawled out of it today."
"I see it!" January's ears followed the beating of a helicopter's rotors. Her eyes found the aircraft hovering above a forested hill to the north of her. A line of flames cut through the greenery below, and traced out the route the salamander had taken. That was just beneath the helicopter. She banked hard and followed that trail of destruction.
Right in front of the trail of fire rose up a gray concrete structure that was either two or three stories tall. It was built on the hillside, so how high it was depended on what side one looked at it from. It had curved corners and a smooth facade that looked vaguely Spanish to January's untrained eye. A great radio antenna painted red and white rose up from behind it, and the parking lot beside it was nearly devoid of cars, but not entirely.
She could see one red pickup still in the lot. The salamander saw it too, for it changed its course and began to shuffle toward the car. January winged her way with all of her might. She drew closer with each second. She could see a bearded man behind the wheel, and another man with a shaved head in the passenger seat. Both stared at the fire elemental before them with eyes widened by horror.
The car was not moving. The whining sound of the engine failing to start explained the reason why. Again and again the driver tried to turn the motor over, but it refused to cooperate. Instead it protested in a loud, mechanical voice. That voice seemed to draw even more attention from the firefoot, who appeared to be considering the nature of the noisy metal creature before it.
It must have had enough, for the fire elemental reared its head back. January saw the rocky flesh around its chest glow orange, then red, and finally white. That light flowed up through its body and into its neck, and then its jaws. She saw its throat bulge. There was no doubting what was about to come next.
January slammed into the pavement with both feet directly in front of the vehicle. Concrete shattered under the impact, and rained down around her like hail. Her wings flared out to create a wide shield. An instant later the salamander vomited forth a gout of magma. The molten rock spewed across her body and her feathers. It felt like she had been struck by a car, a car on fire. But she was Earth. She was the mountain. She was adamant. She would not bend to any force.
Not a single drop of lava touched the pickup, or the men within it. Finally she heard the engine catch, and a moment later the screech of tires as the pickup raced back across the parking lot.
But January was still covered in lava. Mr. Blackwood had been correct. Her new suit had not melted under the assault. But it was hot. Oh goddess was it hot! She had never felt such an inferno. Not even in the worst of the Flying Dutchman fire. To make matters worse, the glop of the molten earth stuck to her body, making her feel like she had been weighed down by rocks, which... well... was true.
January turned her eyes to the sky. Except for the helicopter, there were no others around. The side doors of the aircraft were open, and she could see a WNN crew within filming the entire event. But it was far enough off to not get in her way. So it was safe to fully unleash her powers.
She grinned wolfishly.
January tore the firmament asunder and ripped down a ragged bolt of lightning. At the same time she leaped into the air. As at Jobbie Nooner, the lightning slammed into her and wreathed her in electricity. The lava that had caked her body was blasted off into flaming bits of dust. An instant later the force of the blast sent her hurtling back downward, directly into the salamander.
She brought down her elbow right atop its skull, with all of the force of the lightning behind her. Along with the hammer blow, a massive burst of electricity crashed into the fire elemental. This same attack had decapitated the onaire at Gull Island. She hoped it might likewise put the elemental down for the count, and finish the battle before it could even truly begin.
The world flashed white before January's eyes upon impact. She felt a shockwave ripple out from the blow, and roll through her body like a tidal wave of power. It threw her back up into the sky. She turned that into a backward somersault through the air, and snapped out with her wings. That brought her to a stop, and she hovered about a foot above the ground while she took stock of the situation.
The windows in the observatory had shattered. Nearby trees were now all bent outward, and several picnic benches had been thrown against the concrete walls of the science station. January saw no one within. To be certain, she took a moment to stretch out in the astral. She was gratified to find the entire building empty of all except a few insects. Apparently those two with the cranky engine had been the last people to flee.
She had not expected that to happen. It had not been like that at Gull Island. It was as if the power of her attack had rebounded back on her, and everything around. Did this elemental have a Uno reverse card?
The salamander itself had apparently stood firm through it all. Indeed, it was not even fazed by the assault. Before January could respond, it whipped its body around and brought its tail slashing through the air at her. She had no time to dodge aside, and it hit her full in the face. The tremendous force of the blow sent her careening through the air down the hill. Trees shattered beneath her, and she created a jagged scar through the greenery as she plunged through the forest. She did not stop until she was nearly a hundred feet down the slope.
"Stormcrow, are you ok?" Cray's voice sounded concerned.
"Ouch..." January murmured as she picked herself up onto her feet.
She raised one hand to her jaw, and moved it gingerly back and forth. Thankfully nothing was broken, but she did taste blood in her mouth, hot and coppery. She took a moment to brush the tephra from her shoulders. At least the creature had sent her flying to the south, back toward the exclusion zone. She lifted one hand, and curled her fingers inward to beckon the elemental toward her.
"Valhalla awaits."
It's not that Avery would be sentimental about the suit, it's more that this is an earlier example of his work, and his best friend has done a lot of amazing things within that suit. I would think he'd maybe want it back, just to say "I made this." It'd be more of a pride thing than sentiment. Then again, if the suit is auctioned, now everyone gets to see it (assuming it falls into some sort of public facility). And maybe Avery is not much about pride anyway.... Well, Pride, but not pride.
Reading about Montserrat is fascinating. I love Wikipedia, even though a lot of folks online say it's packed with inaccurate info.
It is amazing to think so many small islands are out there. Literal outcrops in the middle of nowhere. It sounds like she's about to fly right over Fyre Festival.
Whoa, she's flying into a volcano? It's just amazing to think that for all of us, ALL of us, we're all sitting around, going to work, shopping for stuff at Walmart, all while standing over huge pools of molten hot magma. And it's not that far below our feet. A few miles, that's all.
Uh oh, there's the salamander. Right there, about to attack. They can't start their car! I wonder if elementals are like the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park: if we stay still, they might not see us. Somehow, I think salamanders are better than this.
Yikes. The thing spews fire at her. So it's a good thing Blackwood's new suit protects against heat. Still, though... that'll make somebody flinch.
Sounds like the elemental has some sort of Reverse Magic power.
Valhalla awaits! Glad to hear she's using her one-liner.
Reading about Montserrat is fascinating. I love Wikipedia, even though a lot of folks online say it's packed with inaccurate info.
It is amazing to think so many small islands are out there. Literal outcrops in the middle of nowhere.
It sounds like she's about to fly right over Fyre Festival. Whoa, she's flying into a volcano? It's just amazing to think that for all of us, ALL of us, we're all sitting around, going to work, shopping for stuff at Walmart, all while standing over huge pools of molten hot magma.
And it's not that far below our feet. A few miles, that's all. Uh oh, there's the salamander. Right there, about to attack. They can't start their car! I wonder if elementals are like the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park: if we stay still, they might not see us. Somehow, I think salamanders are better than this.
Yikes. The thing spews fire at her. So it's a good thing Blackwood's new suit protects against heat. Still, though... that'll make somebody flinch.
Sounds like the elemental has some sort of Reverse Magic power.
Valhalla awaits! Glad to hear she's using her one-liner.
Two Steps From Hell is always a good choice! They really do a great job of blending epic, emotional, haunting, beautiful, and timeless with many of their songs.
Nice job saving that pair with the unreliable pickup truck – wow! Her new Blackwood suit proves its worth. Clever way of clearing the molten rock from herself.
Uh-oh. With her powerful opening salvo thwarted, the salamander proves itself to be a daunting foe. Stormcrow now has her work cut out for her trying to figure out – probably through trial and bruising – what the beast’s vulnerabilities may be. Some insights/advice from Cray/Blood Raven in her ear would he helpful about now. . . .
I learned a new word: tephra.
Nice job saving that pair with the unreliable pickup truck – wow! Her new Blackwood suit proves its worth. Clever way of clearing the molten rock from herself.
Uh-oh. With her powerful opening salvo thwarted, the salamander proves itself to be a daunting foe. Stormcrow now has her work cut out for her trying to figure out – probably through trial and bruising – what the beast’s vulnerabilities may be. Some insights/advice from Cray/Blood Raven in her ear would he helpful about now. . . .
I learned a new word: tephra.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Jun 18 2022, 03:32 PM)
I learned a new word: tephra.
There were three new words for me.
Finally fully caught up!
The part at the beginning with Gilda was interesting. In a world with superheroes, it's inevitable that those supers would effectively become celebrities. While January's quite good at hiding her "real" life, she will still have to deal with a lot of unwelcome attention for her superhero persona. Which, in this case, includes speculation about her romantic life.
Good to see Mr. Blackwood again. He makes me think a bit of a much more stylish and open version of Leo Zelinsky who (at one point, anyway, no idea if he's still a thing or not) repaired the costumes of heroes and villains alike.
The Caribbean makes for a nice change of pace. Or maybe not that much of one, given that monsters are appearing here, too. It almost seems like it has to be the Hierophant, and the fact he's raising monsters on Montserrat suggests his reach is quite long. Though that'd fit given the similarly global reach of Blood Raven's grim ancestor.
As for the fight, I liked how the lava is treated like, well, lava. It's pretty rare to see any kind of media that actually acknowledges that the stuff radiates heat (so yeah, jumping over lava pools is probably a bad idea), and is as heavy as the rock it actually is. Even with her suit, the heat still gets to her which serves as a good way to raise the tension.
The part at the beginning with Gilda was interesting. In a world with superheroes, it's inevitable that those supers would effectively become celebrities. While January's quite good at hiding her "real" life, she will still have to deal with a lot of unwelcome attention for her superhero persona. Which, in this case, includes speculation about her romantic life.
Good to see Mr. Blackwood again. He makes me think a bit of a much more stylish and open version of Leo Zelinsky who (at one point, anyway, no idea if he's still a thing or not) repaired the costumes of heroes and villains alike.
The Caribbean makes for a nice change of pace. Or maybe not that much of one, given that monsters are appearing here, too. It almost seems like it has to be the Hierophant, and the fact he's raising monsters on Montserrat suggests his reach is quite long. Though that'd fit given the similarly global reach of Blood Raven's grim ancestor.
As for the fight, I liked how the lava is treated like, well, lava. It's pretty rare to see any kind of media that actually acknowledges that the stuff radiates heat (so yeah, jumping over lava pools is probably a bad idea), and is as heavy as the rock it actually is. Even with her suit, the heat still gets to her which serves as a good way to raise the tension.
Renee: Thinking of what you said, January might donate the old suit to a museum. That is something for me (and her) to think about.
Wikipedia is a good starting point. Don't write a paper for school based on what you see in it. But do follow the citations, and they might well lead you to the real goldmines of facts. For quick and simple answers, it is a really handy reference. Just like the encyclopedias we had back when we were younger.
Hang on to that thought about the Fyre Festival. Someone in the story is going to reference it in the future.
Salamanders are definitely not the like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park. They can see things that do not move. Otherwise they would be constantly walking into things!
The elemental's powers will be explained in future posts. But suffice to say, it is really, really invulnerable to physical attacks. Especially at certain times.
Acadian: A lot of trial and bruising in coming up for January. The salamander is going to be one of her most implacable foes ever. Which is quite a statement, come to think of it. But January has friends that she does not even realize, and they always come through for her.
I think I learned tephra from a documentary about the volcanic eruption at Thera/Santorini. Or maybe it was Pompeii. Both dumped massive amounts of the stuff on top of cities, freezing them in time.
WellTemperedClavier: Gilda is one reason supers are celebrities. She was inspired by the character of Vesper Fairchild from the Batwoman TV show. I don' t think we ever meet her. But she is often heard reporting on the radio on the doings of our heroes - good and bad. I liked the idea of creating a similar character, to show what the rest of the world thought about what was going on in the stories. So Gilda was born.
Blackwood is definitely more stylish and snazzy than Leo. He was heavily inspired by a similar character Michael Caine played in Miss Congeniality.
I did want a change of scenery from Detroit and the Midwest for this one. Since January has come a long way with her wings, the world in which she can operate has also opened up as well. She will be getting out to Washington DC and the Atlantic Ocean in the future.
When I was working on the baddie for this episode, I did not want to go to the exact same well as before. We just had both a firewing and a flame construct at Jobbie Nooner. I wanted some diversity. So rather than go with a primarily fire-based creature, I went with a lava-based one. It will prove to be very different from what has come before. Even though it will possess the same weakness as its cousins.
January's Fight Music
Richmond Hill
Book 9.11 - Ashes
The firefoot's eyes were literal molten pits as they locked on to her across the long space. It spun away from the science station, and shimmied back down the hill toward her. It moved in the same bouncing gait as a lizard, which its body most resembled. Well, aside from all the fire and magma of course. The molten rock of its hide annihilated every bush and blade of grass it slithered across, leaving a trail of ash and dust behind it. Its feet left puddles of lava in their wake, having turned the earth molten in their passage.
January leaped to one side, to spare the greenery around her. She came down in the same path the elemental had taken to climb the hill. It was easy enough to find, it was a blackened crust of ash that cut through the emerald hillside like a dark scar. She felt something hot splash under her foot, and glanced down to see that she had stepped into a small pool of molten lava. She took a moment to try to snap it off with a quick kick. But small blobs of liquid rock remained stuck to her.
It was hot, obviously. But the suit was holding up. So was she. She had survived public school. She would survive this.
She idly noted that the black paint and white raven banner symbol upon her chest plate had been burned off. That revealed silvery titanium underneath, which now gleamed brightly under the hot Caribbean sun. But around the edges she could see the colors slowly creeping back to once again cover the breastplate. Blackwood had not been just boasting about the armor being self-repairing. It was regenerating right before her eyes.
The salamander crashed onto the path with a long leap. January was forced to somersault backward to avoid being crushed under its obsidian bulk. It kicked up a cloud of tephra as it slid across the ruined soil. Then it recovered and charged forward. But January became Water, and easily flowed away. She countered with a quick jab at the side of its head. It felt like punching stone.
Again, the monster was unfazed by the strike. But she definitely still had its attention. It swiped at her with its claws, and once more January leaped away. She took it farther down the hill, each leap sending her hundreds of feet away. The firefoot remained in hot pursuit, and January continued ever on toward the deep blue of the sea that she could glimpse in the distance.
"That's good, keep leading it that way," Cray said in her ear. "You are headed into Richmond Hill. It used to be a ritzy neighborhood of the old capital. Lots of vacation mansions owned by off-islanders. It's been abandoned for years, but people are allowed in during the day. So watch for civvies."
"I'll try to get it through here as quick as possible," January murmured.
"Keep going south and you will hit an old pyroclastic flow," the hacker noted. "Go west instead and you will hit the sea. But don't do that. Foxes Bay Beach is there, and it looks like some people are there."
January leaped straight up when the salamander came at her again. Its fangs snapped shut upon empty air as her wings shot her higher into the sky. She took a quick spin and saw what Cray had described. The former capital of Plymouth lay directly south of her, across that great flow of ash and mud. It was not just a single torrent. Instead what was left of the city was flanked by two massive flows of old lava. She could see rooftops rising from the tephra within the now-stilled rivers of earth. The eruptions had literally buried most of the city. What remained stood within a small patch of sparse greenery, like an island in a sea of ash.
January glanced to the east, where a tall, green hill rose up to block the rest of the island from her view. To the north was the lower rise of Garibaldi Hill and far beyond that lay the research station. Stretched out behind both were the streets and buildings of another city that hugged the shore. This was fully populated, and January could glimpse vehicles crisscrossing its roads, and tiny dots of people walking to and fro. Finally to her left a green and brown crescent of land jutted out into the ocean, and January saw about a dozen people enjoying the sandy beach there.
The sound of the helicopter was loud in her ears, and she saw that it had come closer now that January had taken to the air. The camera operator within had fixed her lens directly upon her. It was just what she needed, another close up.
She looked down to see the elemental rear back its head. January noted that bulge grow deep in its throat once more. Light intensified around it, and rose up into its head as its jaws gaped wide. Another great glob of lava spat forth from its mouth. But it was not headed January's way. No, it was directed at the much louder, and larger, helicopter that shared her airspace.
January became Air, and sped to intercept the elemental's fiery breath. Careful to keep her wings from going too high and getting caught in the rotors, she splayed herself against the open side door of the helicopter. Her hands stretched out to either side, and caught the rim of the doorway. Her wings plastered against the cockpit on her left, and the fuselage on her right, completely enfolding half of the helicopter.
She came to a halt just inches from the camera operator's face. The young woman's eyes bulged in shock, and she toppled backward. She fell down onto the bare metal floor of the helicopter's cabin. But she kept her camera going, still pointed at January. A reporter with a WNN microphone crouched beside her. He too, fell back, but into one of the seats that lined the back wall of the passenger compartment. Others that January imagined might be sound technicians or other members of the recording crew likewise blanched away.
The lava hit an instant later. It splattered across her back and against her wings. It was hot, so very hot. It felt like her skin was boiling. It hissed in her ears, and smoke curled up from her feathers. A drop of the molten earth fell to the cabin floor of the helicopter, and burned clear though the airframe. It left a hole rimmed with white-hot metal in its wake, which one could peer through to see the ground below.
"Are you trying to get yourselves killed!" January could not contain the frustration in her voice. "Get away from here!"
Lightning flashed to underscore her words, followed by a low refrain of thunder.
January's feet were planted on the edge of the compartment now. She pushed off, and fell backward through the empty air. The feeling was familiar enough, it brought back fond memories of years of practice on the uneven bars. There was nothing like soaring through the air to make a girl feel good after all.
She turned the fall into a somersault, then caught her descent with her wings. Overhead, the helicopter veered away. Perhaps its pilot had an attack of sense? January hoped so. It was hard enough fighting monsters without people deliberately placing themselves in the creature's paths.
But that little voice of reason in the back of her head reminded her that this was not a monster. It was not a being that lived to cause pain and suffering. It was simply a force of nature, one not beholden to human niceties. Like any volcano or forest fire, it simply did what it did. It destroyed, and that destruction opened the way for new life. It was as necessary and important to the survival of the world as any wolf or shark.
The salamander snarled at the departing helicopter, then turned back to face her. January let herself drop back down to earth. Now she wondered if her going airborne had brought its attention to the helicopter in the first place? Could that have all been her fault after all?
The salamander charged, and January gave way before it. To be honest, she fled. That was the entire plan after all. She was on another hill now, one very low compared to the others to the north and east. But unlike those, this one was cut by streets, and dotted with the remains of houses.
There were still grass and trees and brush all around. But a layer of old tephra coated everything that did not live and grow. The streets and rooftops were inundated with the brown dust. Windows and doorways of mansions gaped empty and dark, like eye sockets in bared skulls. It was an odd juxtaposition of abandonment and decay, mixed in with nature's stubborn will to survive. January found it generally hopeful, for it showed the natural world prevailing in a form of new life amidst the ashes of the old world.
She heard someone scream, and snapped her head around toward the source. It was a young woman standing at the other end of the street from her. She was flanked by two men of roughly the same age. They wore bathing suits, sunglasses, and one carried a camera. This was an actual camera, not a smartphone. All stared in shock at the being of molten rock that raced down the road between abandoned estates.
January turned her head back to her enemy. But she was too late. That had been all the distraction it had needed to spring forward and close the distance between them. Its jaws slammed shut over her head. Its forelegs locked onto her shoulders, and the rest of its bulk smothered her. January screwed her eyes shut as her head was bathed with fire.
This was so much worse than the Flying Dutchman. There the fire had simply wreathed her. Now it literally tried to devour her. She felt obsidian teeth grind upon her winged helmet. She felt liquid fire wash across the bared flesh of her mouth and chin. She felt that pressure, that relentless crushing, closing in on either side of her skull. It felt like she was about to explode any moment.
Without thinking, she sprang backward into a reverse somersault. She felt the two of them crash through a stone wall. Then her back hit a hard floor. The elemental had been yanked along with her of course. It went sailing beyond when she hit the earth, and January's head slipped free of its maw.
A quick kip up brought January back to her feet. She saw that she was within one of the abandoned mansions. They were in what looked like a living room, or so she imagined. The space had been denuded of furniture, and the floor was covered in ash. Bits and pieces of the 90s lay scattered all around. There was a VHS tape still in its cardboard sleeve, and nearby some sort of hand held electronic football game with a cracked screen. The handset of a portable phone lay half melted on the floor, along with old shoes, brittle-paged magazines, and so on. The maid had clearly been off for decades.
She stood with her back to the salamander. It thrashed around behind her and tried to climb to its feet. Before it could stand, she pivoted on one foot, and kicked out with the other. The impact of the roundhouse kick sent the elemental flying directly into the wall at the opposite end of the room. The carefully-fitted stones disintegrated under the impact of its bulk, and the firefoot went sailing clear through the wall and out the other side.
Without a second thought, January sprang through the gaping hole in pursuit. She found herself outside of the building, standing on a back yard deck. It was made up of diamond-shaped stone tiles, and was bordered by a low wooden railing. Taking up the center of the space was a rectangular swimming pool, now filled halfway with squalid green rainwater.
January's eyes lit up at the sight of the scummy green liquid, and she could not prevent a grin from forming upon her features. She charged the elemental, and wrapped both her arms around its molten frame. It had yet to regain its bearings, so it could not dig in and hold her off. Instead the momentum took them both across the yard, and a moment later they splashed into the pool.
A tremendous gout of steam hissed up all around January, making it hard for her to see more than a few feet in front of her. But she knew where the elemental was. It thrashed against her with wild fury. A claw scraped across her face, and those jaws clamped down upon her left arm, just a few inches shy of Sága's interface.
The titanium plates and meta-fibers of her suit disintegrated under the creature's teeth. She felt her skin tear. It was an odd feeling, like ripping cloth. Blood flowed down her arm in a warm line, but she did not feel any pain. Not really. After all, she knew how to take a hit. She had plenty of experience.
She slammed her free elbow down hard upon the back of the salamander's head. That opened its jaws. It reared back to spit once more. This time January was able to duck, and the fiery globs of magma sailed past her. They landed within the water, and sent more steam up about them in a terrific geyser.
The salamander's tail snapped back and forth against the walls of the pool. Tiles shattered under the blows, along with great chunks of the concrete that lay beneath the decorative facing. The water rapidly vanished, and transformed into vapor under the terrific heat of the elemental. January could see that soon enough it would be gone completely, with the magical beast still unharmed in its wake. Clearly, it was not enough water.
"That was a good idea, but I don't think it's going to work." Cray intoned. "Keep pulling it to the ocean. At least I think you've got its attention now. It probably won't be getting distracted by any more helicopters or bystanders."
"Which way?" January asked.
"Back and to your right," the hacker's voice came in response.
January did a back flip up and out of the pool, and most of the steam. She landed on the deck and waited for the salamander to follow. Before it could, she saw the faces of the swimsuit-clad civilians staring back at her. They peered through the hole she had created in the mansion's rear wall. January tried to wave them back. But instead of moving to safety, they just stood there and gawked in amazement. The one with the camera naturally started taking pictures.
"Come on you overgrown lava lamp!" January turned her attention back to the elemental. Again, she extended her hand to the creature, and contemptuously curled her fingers inward to beckon it forward. She idly noted that now they were stained with her own blood.
"Valhalla awaits us both."
The salamander literally boiled from the now-empty swimming pool. But it came in January's direction, not that of the bystanders. She was ready for it, and flowed out of its path like water. Just like water, she could also crash, and she followed with kick to its side. It did not harm the creature of course. But it did send the elemental skittering across the deck, toward the far side of the yard, and away from the civilians.
January leaped over the salamander, and the wooden rail that bordered the yard behind it. Then she plunged down the hillside. She paused to make sure the elemental was in pursuit. It most certainly was. It came bursting through the fence a moment later. Its roasting breath was in her face as it snapped at her. But again, January flowed aside, and it jaws found nothing but air in her place.
Wikipedia is a good starting point. Don't write a paper for school based on what you see in it. But do follow the citations, and they might well lead you to the real goldmines of facts. For quick and simple answers, it is a really handy reference. Just like the encyclopedias we had back when we were younger.
Hang on to that thought about the Fyre Festival. Someone in the story is going to reference it in the future.
Salamanders are definitely not the like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park. They can see things that do not move. Otherwise they would be constantly walking into things!
The elemental's powers will be explained in future posts. But suffice to say, it is really, really invulnerable to physical attacks. Especially at certain times.
Acadian: A lot of trial and bruising in coming up for January. The salamander is going to be one of her most implacable foes ever. Which is quite a statement, come to think of it. But January has friends that she does not even realize, and they always come through for her.
I think I learned tephra from a documentary about the volcanic eruption at Thera/Santorini. Or maybe it was Pompeii. Both dumped massive amounts of the stuff on top of cities, freezing them in time.
WellTemperedClavier: Gilda is one reason supers are celebrities. She was inspired by the character of Vesper Fairchild from the Batwoman TV show. I don' t think we ever meet her. But she is often heard reporting on the radio on the doings of our heroes - good and bad. I liked the idea of creating a similar character, to show what the rest of the world thought about what was going on in the stories. So Gilda was born.
Blackwood is definitely more stylish and snazzy than Leo. He was heavily inspired by a similar character Michael Caine played in Miss Congeniality.
I did want a change of scenery from Detroit and the Midwest for this one. Since January has come a long way with her wings, the world in which she can operate has also opened up as well. She will be getting out to Washington DC and the Atlantic Ocean in the future.
When I was working on the baddie for this episode, I did not want to go to the exact same well as before. We just had both a firewing and a flame construct at Jobbie Nooner. I wanted some diversity. So rather than go with a primarily fire-based creature, I went with a lava-based one. It will prove to be very different from what has come before. Even though it will possess the same weakness as its cousins.
January's Fight Music
Richmond Hill
Book 9.11 - Ashes
The firefoot's eyes were literal molten pits as they locked on to her across the long space. It spun away from the science station, and shimmied back down the hill toward her. It moved in the same bouncing gait as a lizard, which its body most resembled. Well, aside from all the fire and magma of course. The molten rock of its hide annihilated every bush and blade of grass it slithered across, leaving a trail of ash and dust behind it. Its feet left puddles of lava in their wake, having turned the earth molten in their passage.
January leaped to one side, to spare the greenery around her. She came down in the same path the elemental had taken to climb the hill. It was easy enough to find, it was a blackened crust of ash that cut through the emerald hillside like a dark scar. She felt something hot splash under her foot, and glanced down to see that she had stepped into a small pool of molten lava. She took a moment to try to snap it off with a quick kick. But small blobs of liquid rock remained stuck to her.
It was hot, obviously. But the suit was holding up. So was she. She had survived public school. She would survive this.
She idly noted that the black paint and white raven banner symbol upon her chest plate had been burned off. That revealed silvery titanium underneath, which now gleamed brightly under the hot Caribbean sun. But around the edges she could see the colors slowly creeping back to once again cover the breastplate. Blackwood had not been just boasting about the armor being self-repairing. It was regenerating right before her eyes.
The salamander crashed onto the path with a long leap. January was forced to somersault backward to avoid being crushed under its obsidian bulk. It kicked up a cloud of tephra as it slid across the ruined soil. Then it recovered and charged forward. But January became Water, and easily flowed away. She countered with a quick jab at the side of its head. It felt like punching stone.
Again, the monster was unfazed by the strike. But she definitely still had its attention. It swiped at her with its claws, and once more January leaped away. She took it farther down the hill, each leap sending her hundreds of feet away. The firefoot remained in hot pursuit, and January continued ever on toward the deep blue of the sea that she could glimpse in the distance.
"That's good, keep leading it that way," Cray said in her ear. "You are headed into Richmond Hill. It used to be a ritzy neighborhood of the old capital. Lots of vacation mansions owned by off-islanders. It's been abandoned for years, but people are allowed in during the day. So watch for civvies."
"I'll try to get it through here as quick as possible," January murmured.
"Keep going south and you will hit an old pyroclastic flow," the hacker noted. "Go west instead and you will hit the sea. But don't do that. Foxes Bay Beach is there, and it looks like some people are there."
January leaped straight up when the salamander came at her again. Its fangs snapped shut upon empty air as her wings shot her higher into the sky. She took a quick spin and saw what Cray had described. The former capital of Plymouth lay directly south of her, across that great flow of ash and mud. It was not just a single torrent. Instead what was left of the city was flanked by two massive flows of old lava. She could see rooftops rising from the tephra within the now-stilled rivers of earth. The eruptions had literally buried most of the city. What remained stood within a small patch of sparse greenery, like an island in a sea of ash.
January glanced to the east, where a tall, green hill rose up to block the rest of the island from her view. To the north was the lower rise of Garibaldi Hill and far beyond that lay the research station. Stretched out behind both were the streets and buildings of another city that hugged the shore. This was fully populated, and January could glimpse vehicles crisscrossing its roads, and tiny dots of people walking to and fro. Finally to her left a green and brown crescent of land jutted out into the ocean, and January saw about a dozen people enjoying the sandy beach there.
The sound of the helicopter was loud in her ears, and she saw that it had come closer now that January had taken to the air. The camera operator within had fixed her lens directly upon her. It was just what she needed, another close up.
She looked down to see the elemental rear back its head. January noted that bulge grow deep in its throat once more. Light intensified around it, and rose up into its head as its jaws gaped wide. Another great glob of lava spat forth from its mouth. But it was not headed January's way. No, it was directed at the much louder, and larger, helicopter that shared her airspace.
January became Air, and sped to intercept the elemental's fiery breath. Careful to keep her wings from going too high and getting caught in the rotors, she splayed herself against the open side door of the helicopter. Her hands stretched out to either side, and caught the rim of the doorway. Her wings plastered against the cockpit on her left, and the fuselage on her right, completely enfolding half of the helicopter.
She came to a halt just inches from the camera operator's face. The young woman's eyes bulged in shock, and she toppled backward. She fell down onto the bare metal floor of the helicopter's cabin. But she kept her camera going, still pointed at January. A reporter with a WNN microphone crouched beside her. He too, fell back, but into one of the seats that lined the back wall of the passenger compartment. Others that January imagined might be sound technicians or other members of the recording crew likewise blanched away.
The lava hit an instant later. It splattered across her back and against her wings. It was hot, so very hot. It felt like her skin was boiling. It hissed in her ears, and smoke curled up from her feathers. A drop of the molten earth fell to the cabin floor of the helicopter, and burned clear though the airframe. It left a hole rimmed with white-hot metal in its wake, which one could peer through to see the ground below.
"Are you trying to get yourselves killed!" January could not contain the frustration in her voice. "Get away from here!"
Lightning flashed to underscore her words, followed by a low refrain of thunder.
January's feet were planted on the edge of the compartment now. She pushed off, and fell backward through the empty air. The feeling was familiar enough, it brought back fond memories of years of practice on the uneven bars. There was nothing like soaring through the air to make a girl feel good after all.
She turned the fall into a somersault, then caught her descent with her wings. Overhead, the helicopter veered away. Perhaps its pilot had an attack of sense? January hoped so. It was hard enough fighting monsters without people deliberately placing themselves in the creature's paths.
But that little voice of reason in the back of her head reminded her that this was not a monster. It was not a being that lived to cause pain and suffering. It was simply a force of nature, one not beholden to human niceties. Like any volcano or forest fire, it simply did what it did. It destroyed, and that destruction opened the way for new life. It was as necessary and important to the survival of the world as any wolf or shark.
The salamander snarled at the departing helicopter, then turned back to face her. January let herself drop back down to earth. Now she wondered if her going airborne had brought its attention to the helicopter in the first place? Could that have all been her fault after all?
The salamander charged, and January gave way before it. To be honest, she fled. That was the entire plan after all. She was on another hill now, one very low compared to the others to the north and east. But unlike those, this one was cut by streets, and dotted with the remains of houses.
There were still grass and trees and brush all around. But a layer of old tephra coated everything that did not live and grow. The streets and rooftops were inundated with the brown dust. Windows and doorways of mansions gaped empty and dark, like eye sockets in bared skulls. It was an odd juxtaposition of abandonment and decay, mixed in with nature's stubborn will to survive. January found it generally hopeful, for it showed the natural world prevailing in a form of new life amidst the ashes of the old world.
She heard someone scream, and snapped her head around toward the source. It was a young woman standing at the other end of the street from her. She was flanked by two men of roughly the same age. They wore bathing suits, sunglasses, and one carried a camera. This was an actual camera, not a smartphone. All stared in shock at the being of molten rock that raced down the road between abandoned estates.
January turned her head back to her enemy. But she was too late. That had been all the distraction it had needed to spring forward and close the distance between them. Its jaws slammed shut over her head. Its forelegs locked onto her shoulders, and the rest of its bulk smothered her. January screwed her eyes shut as her head was bathed with fire.
This was so much worse than the Flying Dutchman. There the fire had simply wreathed her. Now it literally tried to devour her. She felt obsidian teeth grind upon her winged helmet. She felt liquid fire wash across the bared flesh of her mouth and chin. She felt that pressure, that relentless crushing, closing in on either side of her skull. It felt like she was about to explode any moment.
Without thinking, she sprang backward into a reverse somersault. She felt the two of them crash through a stone wall. Then her back hit a hard floor. The elemental had been yanked along with her of course. It went sailing beyond when she hit the earth, and January's head slipped free of its maw.
A quick kip up brought January back to her feet. She saw that she was within one of the abandoned mansions. They were in what looked like a living room, or so she imagined. The space had been denuded of furniture, and the floor was covered in ash. Bits and pieces of the 90s lay scattered all around. There was a VHS tape still in its cardboard sleeve, and nearby some sort of hand held electronic football game with a cracked screen. The handset of a portable phone lay half melted on the floor, along with old shoes, brittle-paged magazines, and so on. The maid had clearly been off for decades.
She stood with her back to the salamander. It thrashed around behind her and tried to climb to its feet. Before it could stand, she pivoted on one foot, and kicked out with the other. The impact of the roundhouse kick sent the elemental flying directly into the wall at the opposite end of the room. The carefully-fitted stones disintegrated under the impact of its bulk, and the firefoot went sailing clear through the wall and out the other side.
Without a second thought, January sprang through the gaping hole in pursuit. She found herself outside of the building, standing on a back yard deck. It was made up of diamond-shaped stone tiles, and was bordered by a low wooden railing. Taking up the center of the space was a rectangular swimming pool, now filled halfway with squalid green rainwater.
January's eyes lit up at the sight of the scummy green liquid, and she could not prevent a grin from forming upon her features. She charged the elemental, and wrapped both her arms around its molten frame. It had yet to regain its bearings, so it could not dig in and hold her off. Instead the momentum took them both across the yard, and a moment later they splashed into the pool.
A tremendous gout of steam hissed up all around January, making it hard for her to see more than a few feet in front of her. But she knew where the elemental was. It thrashed against her with wild fury. A claw scraped across her face, and those jaws clamped down upon her left arm, just a few inches shy of Sága's interface.
The titanium plates and meta-fibers of her suit disintegrated under the creature's teeth. She felt her skin tear. It was an odd feeling, like ripping cloth. Blood flowed down her arm in a warm line, but she did not feel any pain. Not really. After all, she knew how to take a hit. She had plenty of experience.
She slammed her free elbow down hard upon the back of the salamander's head. That opened its jaws. It reared back to spit once more. This time January was able to duck, and the fiery globs of magma sailed past her. They landed within the water, and sent more steam up about them in a terrific geyser.
The salamander's tail snapped back and forth against the walls of the pool. Tiles shattered under the blows, along with great chunks of the concrete that lay beneath the decorative facing. The water rapidly vanished, and transformed into vapor under the terrific heat of the elemental. January could see that soon enough it would be gone completely, with the magical beast still unharmed in its wake. Clearly, it was not enough water.
"That was a good idea, but I don't think it's going to work." Cray intoned. "Keep pulling it to the ocean. At least I think you've got its attention now. It probably won't be getting distracted by any more helicopters or bystanders."
"Which way?" January asked.
"Back and to your right," the hacker's voice came in response.
January did a back flip up and out of the pool, and most of the steam. She landed on the deck and waited for the salamander to follow. Before it could, she saw the faces of the swimsuit-clad civilians staring back at her. They peered through the hole she had created in the mansion's rear wall. January tried to wave them back. But instead of moving to safety, they just stood there and gawked in amazement. The one with the camera naturally started taking pictures.
"Come on you overgrown lava lamp!" January turned her attention back to the elemental. Again, she extended her hand to the creature, and contemptuously curled her fingers inward to beckon it forward. She idly noted that now they were stained with her own blood.
"Valhalla awaits us both."
The salamander literally boiled from the now-empty swimming pool. But it came in January's direction, not that of the bystanders. She was ready for it, and flowed out of its path like water. Just like water, she could also crash, and she followed with kick to its side. It did not harm the creature of course. But it did send the elemental skittering across the deck, toward the far side of the yard, and away from the civilians.
January leaped over the salamander, and the wooden rail that bordered the yard behind it. Then she plunged down the hillside. She paused to make sure the elemental was in pursuit. It most certainly was. It came bursting through the fence a moment later. Its roasting breath was in her face as it snapped at her. But again, January flowed aside, and it jaws found nothing but air in her place.
Dang, look at those pics of abandoned Montserrat. I fell into a Mount Saint Helens hole a few months ago, reading whatever I could, watching whatever videos are out there, etc.. So I'm gawing at today's website links.
Edit: Here are this photographer's last set of pics. It's like he knew it was futile to run, so he did what he loved best instead.
Hell to the yeah.
... whoa... self-regenerating armor...
So, just noticing that Cray is guiding her along for this mission, and I assume it's because he's got international experience. Gadget knows the Michigan area well, maybe some of Canada and the upper midwest. But Cray's better if she's going far outside those zones.
Yeesh, she's falling backwards. As I am a person who's afraid of heights, you're really doing a good job scaring the *bleep* out of Renee today!
Nice, an actual camera. Yikes... it's BITTEN onto her? Water! Become WAter!!!! Become water!!! No.... EARTH!! Become earth1!!!
Aw shucks. Gotta wait until next week to see if this lava lump goes for the big dip into Caribbean.
Edit: Here are this photographer's last set of pics.
It's like he knew it was futile to run, so he did what he loved best instead. QUOTE
It was hot, obviously. But the suit was holding up. So was she. She had survived public school. She would survive this.
Hell to the yeah.
... whoa... self-regenerating armor...
So, just noticing that Cray is guiding her along for this mission, and I assume it's because he's got international experience. Gadget knows the Michigan area well, maybe some of Canada and the upper midwest. But Cray's better if she's going far outside those zones. Yeesh, she's falling backwards. As I am a person who's afraid of heights, you're really doing a good job scaring the *bleep* out of Renee today!
Nice, an actual camera. Yikes... it's BITTEN onto her? Water! Become WAter!!!! Become water!!! No.... EARTH!! Become earth1!!!
Aw shucks. Gotta wait until next week to see if this lava lump goes for the big dip into Caribbean.
QUOTE(SubRosa @ Jun 25 2022, 05:24 AM)
It was hot, obviously. But the suit was holding up. So was she. She had survived public school. She would survive this.
Truly the crucible of our times.
Good thing that January got the suit upgrades because she's really being put through the wringer. You don't skimp on just how devastatingly powerful this creature is, from the heat it radiates to the sheer force that comes from having such a dense body.
Even a metahuman would be hard-pressed to defeat such a thing. So I think that drawing it toward the ocean is a good idea. Natural solutions for natural problems, after all.
Good stuff!
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