The Shadow Knows! (Final Update 6/3/04)
The Shadow
Hero
Lela said:
So did I, though I think we're due for some action soon.
Not really, except that it was certainly interesting.
No, definitely not put it aside. But we're going to fast-forward over some relatively dead time. I still plan on keeping close track of in-game time, don't worry.
I suspect what SP is watching to see is if I get seriously embroiled with OmniMetal. He's making things hot enough that it might be the best course to let things cool off before making my move. But if he thinks I'm gonna forget them, he can think again.
The Shadow
Hero
Lela said:
Whoopsie! What with work heating up (finals week approacheth) and getting involved in an online M&M game, I completely forgot! Sorry about that, I'll get back to you sometime this week about it.
The online game is a lot of fun, but unfortunately you won't be seeing a Story Hour on it any time soon - the GM is playtesting material he hopes to publish as an M&M Superlink product. (Superlink being M&M's equivalent of the OGL license.)
I'll mention this much: The game is called "Chain Gang", and features supervillains who've been let out of prison with friendly little neutralizing collars and ordered to hunt down other supers for a secretive government agency... My character is a lot of fun. Completely NUTS.
Interesting. Yeah, Alex is definitely a bit of a cold fish. Given that he lives in my head and I live in his (if that makes any sense
I do empathize with him quite strongly, though. I hope he is "alive" to the reader, as well.Carlos is a very sympathetic character to me too; I wanted him to be. But I'm not inside his head in the same way, because he's an NPC. I am dreading some of the plot hooks SP can and probably will pull on the poor kid, though. He's got lots of baggage. (To name just one, suppose he gets fingered for the gang shootings he did a few years and a lifetime ago?)
The Shadow
Hero
This started out as a physical description of the major characters, but as usual with me I ended up branching out into characterization a bit.
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I just realized that I've never really described the major characters in the story hour, save a little for Carlos. I'm not all that visual a person, but still, it's worth correcting.
Alex is 6'1" and has a large, imposing frame to go with it; he is definitely not most people's image of a scientist. He tends to hunch a little and minimize his presence, though, a habit he picked up in adolescence. He has dark brown hair and slate-grey eyes that can get colder than any winter in LA ever managed, though his usual expression is one of neutral interest. Alex walks with an enviable poise and no wasted motion; the mark of a highly-trained fighter. His voice is a rich baritone, resonant and commanding attention. It seems a little incongruous coming from the mousy image he projects.
The Shadow, on the other hand, gives the impression of being a coiled spring, ready for action at a moment's notice. Even before his mind's powers are unleashed, he exudes danger - anyone on the street can tell at a glance that here is a man not to be trifled with. He uses his cloak to good dramatic effect, and it and the vest make him seem even larger than he really is.
Alex dresses fairly conservatively; he usually wears an understated suit and tie to work, and when he gets home just takes off the tie and jacket.
David has recently overtopped his father but his height seems to be stabilizing at 6'3". He is, if anything, even more powerfully built than Alex; his musculature is obvious and well-defined, but he doesn't have a bodybuilder's sculpted look. (Having no body fat is not metabolically efficient, and his body is nothing if not efficent.) David has an unruly mop of brown hair (a lighter shade than his dad's), and soulful brown eyes he inherited from his mother. The boy has an easy confidence often mistaken for arrogance. David's moods are more unpredictable even than the average teen's; often the smallest thing can set off gloom, or rage, or hot tears - the more so if he's been trying to hold it in for a while.
It is his anger that is most frightening, however - he projects a primal, razor-sharp readiness for physical confrontation that is quite unnerving to most people. (One reason why the coaches at his high school have stopped bugging him to join up is that he has a reputation for not being a "team player" - he's lost his temper before and injured people. The only reason he hasn't gotten in serious trouble is that so far, they've always clearly started it.)
Despite the fact that he's not on a sports team, David is pretty solidly slotted into the "jock" role at his high school. His grades are decent but lackluster, nothing like John's or Mary's or even Miguel's. (Alex has managed to resign himself to this, and doesn't nag overmuch.) While not one of the pretty people, he is fairly popular, the more so since he hangs with Little Dave, a much-loved clown and athlete of no little prowess himself. David himself is respected by many and feared by a few, and he doesn't seem to mind either reaction much.
David is not at all adverse to showing off his muscular frame to the girls, so he often wears muscle shirts and the like. He has inherited a touch of his father's tastes, however; if he's going to be dressier than workout clothes, he's going to dress neatly, not loud. (Jennifer's good taste in clothes has rubbed off on both her men.) Nor has he ever been much inclined toward hair-dying, piercings, tattoos and the like - probably because he knows full well there'd be no fun shock-value from his dad. (Most likely reaction to a brightly-colored mohawk: "Hello son. You got a haircut, I see." And also, truth be told, David wants his dad's respect and approval badly, though like most teens he'd slit his wrists before admitting it. Losing his mom at a tender age has only heightened this natural need.
Alex is of Scotch-German descent, and Jennifer was from a mostly-German, partly-Nordic Midwestern family. Alex weathers southern California reasonably well; David is fairer than his dad but tans up nicely, with little in the way of burning. (More of that ultra-efficient metabolism.)
I've already described Carlos, but here's a recap, with a few extras. He's 5'6 (and sensitive about it) and skinny, though he's been filling out since getting regular meals and daily workouts at the base. He's got straight jet-black hair, and eyes so dark they're almost black too; his features are noticeably mestizo (Indian) and his skin tone matches. (Yet another source of friction with the Garcias, who pride themselves on being of Spanish descent. To say nothing of the Gypsy connection!)
Though unfailingly polite and eager-to-please around Alex and other "decent folks", Carlos has not lost his streetwise edge. He can blend in on the street effortlessly; or, if he prefers, he can project enough dangerous, swaggering "bad-dudeness" to cause most to give him a wide berth. Doing the latter actually embarrasses him, though of course he doesn't let this show; he'd feel very uncomfortable playing that part around somebody he liked and respected. He maintains some contacts from the old days, though they're mainly useful only in and around Lions territory, which he doesn't care to visit often.
As mentioned before, Carlos has an appalling collection of scars and welts on his body, especially on his back, sides, and forearms. Most are courtesy of his uncle, some are presents from the Lions and a rival gang, and a few are self-inflicted. He is very self-conscious and ashamed about these, which is one reason why he always wears long-sleeved shirts when going out. (It's a mark of how comfortable he is around Alex that he doesn't feel the need to do that at home.)
Carlos takes great pride in his appearance when he goes out, making a point of dressing neatly and well. (And he goes through hair gel like it's going out of style. To hear him talk, he's the last of the great Latin lovers, but in point of fact he doesn't really date much - too busy, he says, but it's at least as much that life is emotionally complicated enough lately. (He also no longer believes in having sex before marriage, which some of his dates have found quite sweet, and others quite naive.) Any given month, he's liable to be all swoony over the latest Latina pop sensation; he's got posters of any number of 'em on the wall at the base.
In short, Carlos is an uneasy combination of adult and child - far uneasier than most guys his age. He is hardened, competent, and utterly reliable, on the one hand. On the other, though he would never admit it even to himself, he's also trying to pack as much concentrated childhood into his time at the base as possible. (In his heart of hearts, he feels it's just plain too good to last. Eventually some cosmic sense of justice will notice he's having it too good and punish him.) Around Alex he is a little boy trying to please his dad - but a little boy sophisticated enough not to whine or seek negative attention. He will please Alex by being the mature, reliable, inobtrusive helper that the Shadow (he thinks) wants and needs; in return he soaks up approval and affection, and basks in "irresponsibility" in the sense that he doesn't have to be thinking ahead to his next meal, his next bit of shelter, and how he's going to avoid or minimize his next beating. (Carlos has never really made longer-term plans before. He fully expected to die young, as so many gangbangers do.)
The recent ratcheting-up of their relationship is both the unimaginable coming-true of a dream so wild he'd never even dared to think it aloud to himself, and a terrifying, perilous abyss to him. It promises change, and change is terrifying when things are already better than he'd ever hoped for. And he can't help but feel a certain terror that he'll screw it up somehow - he'll do something wrong and Alex will hate him and it'll be all over. If there's more emotional involvement there's also lots more ways to get hurt - and to hurt Alex too, without even half-trying. (He's much more willing to get hurt than to dish it out to someone he loves.)
This is yet another reason why he'll be so exasperated with David - David treats as his casual birthright something that to Carlos is El Dorado. It will INFURIATE Carlos that David can feel free to sass his dad and *not have to be afraid that their relationship will end*. (Not that Carlos feels even the slightest desire to sass Alex, you understand, but it's the principle of the thing. The SECURITY of it.) David will always be Alex's son, no matter what happens, but Carlos is, he fears, treading on thin ice every step of the way.
----------------------------------------------------
I just realized that I've never really described the major characters in the story hour, save a little for Carlos. I'm not all that visual a person, but still, it's worth correcting.
Alex is 6'1" and has a large, imposing frame to go with it; he is definitely not most people's image of a scientist. He tends to hunch a little and minimize his presence, though, a habit he picked up in adolescence. He has dark brown hair and slate-grey eyes that can get colder than any winter in LA ever managed, though his usual expression is one of neutral interest. Alex walks with an enviable poise and no wasted motion; the mark of a highly-trained fighter. His voice is a rich baritone, resonant and commanding attention. It seems a little incongruous coming from the mousy image he projects.
The Shadow, on the other hand, gives the impression of being a coiled spring, ready for action at a moment's notice. Even before his mind's powers are unleashed, he exudes danger - anyone on the street can tell at a glance that here is a man not to be trifled with. He uses his cloak to good dramatic effect, and it and the vest make him seem even larger than he really is.
Alex dresses fairly conservatively; he usually wears an understated suit and tie to work, and when he gets home just takes off the tie and jacket.
David has recently overtopped his father but his height seems to be stabilizing at 6'3". He is, if anything, even more powerfully built than Alex; his musculature is obvious and well-defined, but he doesn't have a bodybuilder's sculpted look. (Having no body fat is not metabolically efficient, and his body is nothing if not efficent.) David has an unruly mop of brown hair (a lighter shade than his dad's), and soulful brown eyes he inherited from his mother. The boy has an easy confidence often mistaken for arrogance. David's moods are more unpredictable even than the average teen's; often the smallest thing can set off gloom, or rage, or hot tears - the more so if he's been trying to hold it in for a while.
It is his anger that is most frightening, however - he projects a primal, razor-sharp readiness for physical confrontation that is quite unnerving to most people. (One reason why the coaches at his high school have stopped bugging him to join up is that he has a reputation for not being a "team player" - he's lost his temper before and injured people. The only reason he hasn't gotten in serious trouble is that so far, they've always clearly started it.)
Despite the fact that he's not on a sports team, David is pretty solidly slotted into the "jock" role at his high school. His grades are decent but lackluster, nothing like John's or Mary's or even Miguel's. (Alex has managed to resign himself to this, and doesn't nag overmuch.) While not one of the pretty people, he is fairly popular, the more so since he hangs with Little Dave, a much-loved clown and athlete of no little prowess himself. David himself is respected by many and feared by a few, and he doesn't seem to mind either reaction much.
David is not at all adverse to showing off his muscular frame to the girls, so he often wears muscle shirts and the like. He has inherited a touch of his father's tastes, however; if he's going to be dressier than workout clothes, he's going to dress neatly, not loud. (Jennifer's good taste in clothes has rubbed off on both her men.) Nor has he ever been much inclined toward hair-dying, piercings, tattoos and the like - probably because he knows full well there'd be no fun shock-value from his dad. (Most likely reaction to a brightly-colored mohawk: "Hello son. You got a haircut, I see."
And also, truth be told, David wants his dad's respect and approval badly, though like most teens he'd slit his wrists before admitting it. Losing his mom at a tender age has only heightened this natural need.Alex is of Scotch-German descent, and Jennifer was from a mostly-German, partly-Nordic Midwestern family. Alex weathers southern California reasonably well; David is fairer than his dad but tans up nicely, with little in the way of burning. (More of that ultra-efficient metabolism.)
I've already described Carlos, but here's a recap, with a few extras. He's 5'6 (and sensitive about it) and skinny, though he's been filling out since getting regular meals and daily workouts at the base. He's got straight jet-black hair, and eyes so dark they're almost black too; his features are noticeably mestizo (Indian) and his skin tone matches. (Yet another source of friction with the Garcias, who pride themselves on being of Spanish descent. To say nothing of the Gypsy connection!)
Though unfailingly polite and eager-to-please around Alex and other "decent folks", Carlos has not lost his streetwise edge. He can blend in on the street effortlessly; or, if he prefers, he can project enough dangerous, swaggering "bad-dudeness" to cause most to give him a wide berth. Doing the latter actually embarrasses him, though of course he doesn't let this show; he'd feel very uncomfortable playing that part around somebody he liked and respected. He maintains some contacts from the old days, though they're mainly useful only in and around Lions territory, which he doesn't care to visit often.
As mentioned before, Carlos has an appalling collection of scars and welts on his body, especially on his back, sides, and forearms. Most are courtesy of his uncle, some are presents from the Lions and a rival gang, and a few are self-inflicted. He is very self-conscious and ashamed about these, which is one reason why he always wears long-sleeved shirts when going out. (It's a mark of how comfortable he is around Alex that he doesn't feel the need to do that at home.)
Carlos takes great pride in his appearance when he goes out, making a point of dressing neatly and well. (And he goes through hair gel like it's going out of style.
To hear him talk, he's the last of the great Latin lovers, but in point of fact he doesn't really date much - too busy, he says, but it's at least as much that life is emotionally complicated enough lately. (He also no longer believes in having sex before marriage, which some of his dates have found quite sweet, and others quite naive.) Any given month, he's liable to be all swoony over the latest Latina pop sensation; he's got posters of any number of 'em on the wall at the base.In short, Carlos is an uneasy combination of adult and child - far uneasier than most guys his age. He is hardened, competent, and utterly reliable, on the one hand. On the other, though he would never admit it even to himself, he's also trying to pack as much concentrated childhood into his time at the base as possible. (In his heart of hearts, he feels it's just plain too good to last. Eventually some cosmic sense of justice will notice he's having it too good and punish him.) Around Alex he is a little boy trying to please his dad - but a little boy sophisticated enough not to whine or seek negative attention. He will please Alex by being the mature, reliable, inobtrusive helper that the Shadow (he thinks) wants and needs; in return he soaks up approval and affection, and basks in "irresponsibility" in the sense that he doesn't have to be thinking ahead to his next meal, his next bit of shelter, and how he's going to avoid or minimize his next beating. (Carlos has never really made longer-term plans before. He fully expected to die young, as so many gangbangers do.)
The recent ratcheting-up of their relationship is both the unimaginable coming-true of a dream so wild he'd never even dared to think it aloud to himself, and a terrifying, perilous abyss to him. It promises change, and change is terrifying when things are already better than he'd ever hoped for. And he can't help but feel a certain terror that he'll screw it up somehow - he'll do something wrong and Alex will hate him and it'll be all over. If there's more emotional involvement there's also lots more ways to get hurt - and to hurt Alex too, without even half-trying. (He's much more willing to get hurt than to dish it out to someone he loves.)
This is yet another reason why he'll be so exasperated with David - David treats as his casual birthright something that to Carlos is El Dorado. It will INFURIATE Carlos that David can feel free to sass his dad and *not have to be afraid that their relationship will end*. (Not that Carlos feels even the slightest desire to sass Alex, you understand, but it's the principle of the thing.
The SECURITY of it.) David will always be Alex's son, no matter what happens, but Carlos is, he fears, treading on thin ice every step of the way.
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The Shadow
Hero
Bolt From The Blue
[Note that there is a new campaign post just before this one.]
Alex stopped at home on the way to Grace's to check his messages. Sure enough, there were two from David: One to say he'd taken the bus into a nearby large town but hadn't managed to get a ticket for that day and would call later with further news; and a second to say that he'd be arriving by train Sunday morning. It'll be so good to have him home again! he thought.
Once at Grace's house, she drew him aside for an update before he checked in on Carlos. "He's doing a little better, but he's still disoriented and easily confused, and he finds it very frustrating. Don't give him anything to worry about, or do anything too emotionally heavy right now." Alex nodded submissively. "How long until he can start working with me again? That will probably be the best thing for him." "You're probably right." She thought it over, then continued, "Thanksgiving is a convenient milestone to work with. After that, let him get back to light duty - computer stuff and so on. Nothing too strenuous. I'll leave it to your judgement when he's ready for anything more. Don't rely on his powers until around Christmas." Alex chuckled drily. "I've never relied on them." "Well, don't expect anything, put it that way."
"I'm guessing he's been very 'helpful' around here?" Grace rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. Well, you probably do. I've had to assign him some simple chores so he doesn't feel the need to do everything that strikes his eye. Anything too complicated, he can't manage to concentrate on, and he ends up getting upset." "What about working out? I imagine he's getting anxious about getting out of shape." "Right again, darlin'. I let him do some light calisthenics, so long as he's supervised. Otherwise he forgets what he's done already and keeps going. I don't want him to wear himself out." "I thought you said he was physically fine?" "Yes, but he sleeps a good deal; he's still recuperating." "You said he could stay until Wednesday. Do you want him to stay until then?" She replied, "He should stay at least through the weekend; I want to re-evaluate where he's at by that point." Alex nodded. "Good enough. May I see him now?" "Be my guest. Be warned that he'll probably try to convince you he's just fine."
Alex couldn't help but smile when he found the boy doing some illicit unsupervised sit-ups in his bedroom, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. (He noted with mild surprise that Carlos was already comfortable enough around Grace to let his arms show.) Carlos' face lit up at the sight of him, and he grinned when Alex sat on the floor next to him and joked, "Take a break - that's an order." "Yessir! ...Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Done." Sitting up a twenty-first time and clasping his arms about his knees, he tensed slightly when Alex put an arm around him, but seemed pleased and leaned into it a bit. After a moment, Alex asked him, "How are you doing?"
"Well... I think I'm OK." "Grace doesn't agree?" "Well, you know, sir. I like her a lot, but she worries too much. She's so..." "Overprotective?" "Yeah!" Alex told him gently, "Well, Carlos, I'm asking you to put up with it for a little while. Because whether you feel like it or not, you need some protecting right now." The boy ducked his head to his chest and said quietly, "Yes, sir." Though the request was plainly unwelcome, there was no mutiny in his tone.
"I'm sorry I didn't stop by yesterday," Alex told him gently. "It's okay, sir. I know how it goes. Crime waits for no man, right?" With a smile, "Just so. How are your headaches?" "Getting better. I don't need as many painkillers as I did before." "That's good." "Uh huh." They chatted a while about inconsequentials, valuing the time more for the company than the information. Finally Alex asked him, "Anything you want to ask me?" "Yeah!" came the eager response. "What's going on with the bad guys?" Alex thought for a moment, then said carefully, "I staked out some bad guys last night, but didn't learn what I'd hoped to." Carlos nodded at this uninformative reply and kind of sank into himself, looking downcast. Alex wordlessly clasped him a little closer in response.
Grace chose that moment to come in and start chatting lightly with the two of them with her usual preternatural awareness. After a time, she mentioned that the Shadow probably had to be going, and Alex took the hint. He got up and whispered to Carlos, "I've missed you." Carlos nodded glumly, looking away. Alex patted his shoulder and awkwardly took his leave.
Stopping by the base to get suited up, he made his way purposefully to the OmniMetal building. On the way, he had the comm panel dial their number, since it was after five. "Van Helsing for Ms. Nearman." His call got passed through a variety of flunkies; Alex got tired of repeating himself. Finally, "This is Barbara Nearman. What can I do for you, Mr. Van Helsing?" "I was hoping Mr. Johnson could tell me about Legion's status." "I see. ... I regret to inform you that Mr. Johnson has... passed away, quite unexpectedly." The Shadow shot her the razor-sharp inquiry, "How did he die? Did Legion do it?" "That matter is still under investigation, I'm afraid. Tell me, Mr. Van Helsing... How exactly do you know of Legion?"
"How do I know of it?! I'm the one who informed your company of its existence!" "I see. And did Mr. Johnson issue you any... supplies? We are missing some that would have been very useful against it." Wheels turned rapidly in the Shadow's mind as he considered the ramifications of that question. "Screamers, you mean." "Exactly." "Yes, he gave me a box of sixteen." "Ah. And did he also issue you a box of JQX gas?" "If that's a knockout gas, then yes, he did." "Ah. Do you still have them?" "The gas, yes. The screamers, no - Legion managed to take them from me."
"I see. Tell me, Mr. Van Helsing, are you, ah, subcontracting with us through Mr. Johnson?" "No, I would have to describe my involvement with OmniMetal as more... impromptu." "I understand. I just wanted to make sure you had not been promised payment." "Mr. Johnson did not keep good records? How sloppy of him." "Not exactly. We have reason to believe that Mr. Johnson recorded his data in... a nonstandard protocol. We are currently trying to figure out just what protocol he was using." Now it was the Shadow's turn to say, "I see." So the bastard kept secrets in code even from his own company, eh?
After a moment, he asked, "What can you tell me of Legion's current status, Ms. Nearman?" "Very little, Mr. Van Helsing. You must understand, responsibility for the Legion affair left my hands earlier today when a team of investigators arrived. Their leader, a Mr. Hashimoto, is very eager to speak with you." "Is he available now?" "I'm afraid not. Can you call tomorrow morning between eight and ten?" "Yes." "Very well, I'll tell him to expect you. And Mr. Van Helsing... please be advised that it is Mr. Hashimoto's intention to close down your role in the investigation." "Understood. And welcomed. It has been... difficult." "Yes. Is there anything more?" "No." "In that case, I will wish you a good evening." "And you."
By that time he'd reached OmniMetal's parking lot. He spent a good while going over the parking lot and its environs with a fine-toothed comb. Sure enough, he spotted a ringer - a woman doing landscaping rather inexpertly, and watching the lot a little too intently. After continued searching, he concluded there were no others. How to distract her while he kidnapped one of her fellow employees... He picked up a rock and weighed it in his hand.
Eventually one of the Shadow's targets came out and went to his car - the head of security. The cloaked crusader "shadowed" him to his car, then decided to attach a little tracking device to its bumper. (The thing only had a range of about a mile, but hopefully it would help narrow down the guy's address.) The comm panel reported the car's position to him every thirty seconds until it was out of range. He shrugged; he had bigger fish to fry.
Not much later, the Shadow got the nibble he was waiting for. The middle manager - the target who seemed to know the most - came out into the lot and clicked his beeper at an expensive car. The dark avenger lobbed his invisible rock at a car several rows down, and its alarm started wailing. With that diversion going on, he promptly "vanished" both his target and the man's car (letting the guy see through the illusion so he wouldn't notice). With any luck, when the ringer looked back in this direction, she'd notice nothing untoward. He was just turning back toward his target, gun at the ready to give an unpleasant surprise, when he got one himself - he heard a low humming sound and felt a sudden flash of heat on his back - even through the Kevlar!
The Shadow dove for cover, weaving wildly between cars - hopefully his invisibility would reassert itself upon the agent he'd somehow missed. No more shots were fired at him, but he did not count himself safe; he left the lot on a route circuitous enough to give a snake lumbago, making for a randomly selected point so as to throw no suspicion toward his real neighborhood. When he felt a little safer, he checked his back; there was a neat round hole in his cloak, about an inch wide, and a similar patch on the back of his vest was still a bit warm. He shook his head in disbelief. "Doesn't anybody use bullets any more?!" At least it hadn't really hurt him.
He was just about ready to start heading home for real when his luck began to turn... he heard the beeping of his little tracker over the commlink, and the panel started reporting position information again. Somehow he'd managed to stumble back within its range. [Natural 20's are nice, aren't they?]
He ghosted into the parking garage of a large apartment building, and soon located his target's car. He recovered the tracker - no sense in leaving evidence behind - and made careful note of the address. Should I hit him now? He pondered. Nah. Things were a little too hot at the moment; better to let barking dogs lie until they fell asleep.
Alex made his way back to his usual haunts, deciding to spend the night getting his finger back on his community's pulse. OmniMetal could wait for now. And I'm sure that Mr. Hashimoto and I will have an interesting talk on the morrow.
[This was a fairly short one, as SP was beat and, as always when he's tired, rambled excessively. It'll depend somewhat on how the phone call goes next session, but I suspect that Alex will decide to let things cool off with OmniMetal before trying a hit again. In that case, we'll probably advance time to mid-December, pausing briefly on important events along the way, like David's return and Thanksgiving. I've also considered writing another short-short to cover that kind of thing, if SP approves.]
[It will DEFINITELY be a relief to get Carlos back on the job, and to get the bike repaired. Believe me. Alex and I had forgotten how nerve-wracking the life of a solo vigilante can be.]
[Note that there is a new campaign post just before this one.]
Alex stopped at home on the way to Grace's to check his messages. Sure enough, there were two from David: One to say he'd taken the bus into a nearby large town but hadn't managed to get a ticket for that day and would call later with further news; and a second to say that he'd be arriving by train Sunday morning. It'll be so good to have him home again! he thought.
Once at Grace's house, she drew him aside for an update before he checked in on Carlos. "He's doing a little better, but he's still disoriented and easily confused, and he finds it very frustrating. Don't give him anything to worry about, or do anything too emotionally heavy right now." Alex nodded submissively. "How long until he can start working with me again? That will probably be the best thing for him." "You're probably right." She thought it over, then continued, "Thanksgiving is a convenient milestone to work with. After that, let him get back to light duty - computer stuff and so on. Nothing too strenuous. I'll leave it to your judgement when he's ready for anything more. Don't rely on his powers until around Christmas." Alex chuckled drily. "I've never relied on them." "Well, don't expect anything, put it that way."
"I'm guessing he's been very 'helpful' around here?" Grace rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. Well, you probably do. I've had to assign him some simple chores so he doesn't feel the need to do everything that strikes his eye. Anything too complicated, he can't manage to concentrate on, and he ends up getting upset." "What about working out? I imagine he's getting anxious about getting out of shape." "Right again, darlin'. I let him do some light calisthenics, so long as he's supervised. Otherwise he forgets what he's done already and keeps going. I don't want him to wear himself out." "I thought you said he was physically fine?" "Yes, but he sleeps a good deal; he's still recuperating." "You said he could stay until Wednesday. Do you want him to stay until then?" She replied, "He should stay at least through the weekend; I want to re-evaluate where he's at by that point." Alex nodded. "Good enough. May I see him now?" "Be my guest. Be warned that he'll probably try to convince you he's just fine."
Alex couldn't help but smile when he found the boy doing some illicit unsupervised sit-ups in his bedroom, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. (He noted with mild surprise that Carlos was already comfortable enough around Grace to let his arms show.) Carlos' face lit up at the sight of him, and he grinned when Alex sat on the floor next to him and joked, "Take a break - that's an order." "Yessir! ...Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Done." Sitting up a twenty-first time and clasping his arms about his knees, he tensed slightly when Alex put an arm around him, but seemed pleased and leaned into it a bit. After a moment, Alex asked him, "How are you doing?"
"Well... I think I'm OK." "Grace doesn't agree?" "Well, you know, sir. I like her a lot, but she worries too much. She's so..." "Overprotective?" "Yeah!" Alex told him gently, "Well, Carlos, I'm asking you to put up with it for a little while. Because whether you feel like it or not, you need some protecting right now." The boy ducked his head to his chest and said quietly, "Yes, sir." Though the request was plainly unwelcome, there was no mutiny in his tone.
"I'm sorry I didn't stop by yesterday," Alex told him gently. "It's okay, sir. I know how it goes. Crime waits for no man, right?" With a smile, "Just so. How are your headaches?" "Getting better. I don't need as many painkillers as I did before." "That's good." "Uh huh." They chatted a while about inconsequentials, valuing the time more for the company than the information. Finally Alex asked him, "Anything you want to ask me?" "Yeah!" came the eager response. "What's going on with the bad guys?" Alex thought for a moment, then said carefully, "I staked out some bad guys last night, but didn't learn what I'd hoped to." Carlos nodded at this uninformative reply and kind of sank into himself, looking downcast. Alex wordlessly clasped him a little closer in response.
Grace chose that moment to come in and start chatting lightly with the two of them with her usual preternatural awareness. After a time, she mentioned that the Shadow probably had to be going, and Alex took the hint. He got up and whispered to Carlos, "I've missed you." Carlos nodded glumly, looking away. Alex patted his shoulder and awkwardly took his leave.
Stopping by the base to get suited up, he made his way purposefully to the OmniMetal building. On the way, he had the comm panel dial their number, since it was after five. "Van Helsing for Ms. Nearman." His call got passed through a variety of flunkies; Alex got tired of repeating himself. Finally, "This is Barbara Nearman. What can I do for you, Mr. Van Helsing?" "I was hoping Mr. Johnson could tell me about Legion's status." "I see. ... I regret to inform you that Mr. Johnson has... passed away, quite unexpectedly." The Shadow shot her the razor-sharp inquiry, "How did he die? Did Legion do it?" "That matter is still under investigation, I'm afraid. Tell me, Mr. Van Helsing... How exactly do you know of Legion?"
"How do I know of it?! I'm the one who informed your company of its existence!" "I see. And did Mr. Johnson issue you any... supplies? We are missing some that would have been very useful against it." Wheels turned rapidly in the Shadow's mind as he considered the ramifications of that question. "Screamers, you mean." "Exactly." "Yes, he gave me a box of sixteen." "Ah. And did he also issue you a box of JQX gas?" "If that's a knockout gas, then yes, he did." "Ah. Do you still have them?" "The gas, yes. The screamers, no - Legion managed to take them from me."
"I see. Tell me, Mr. Van Helsing, are you, ah, subcontracting with us through Mr. Johnson?" "No, I would have to describe my involvement with OmniMetal as more... impromptu." "I understand. I just wanted to make sure you had not been promised payment." "Mr. Johnson did not keep good records? How sloppy of him." "Not exactly. We have reason to believe that Mr. Johnson recorded his data in... a nonstandard protocol. We are currently trying to figure out just what protocol he was using." Now it was the Shadow's turn to say, "I see." So the bastard kept secrets in code even from his own company, eh?
After a moment, he asked, "What can you tell me of Legion's current status, Ms. Nearman?" "Very little, Mr. Van Helsing. You must understand, responsibility for the Legion affair left my hands earlier today when a team of investigators arrived. Their leader, a Mr. Hashimoto, is very eager to speak with you." "Is he available now?" "I'm afraid not. Can you call tomorrow morning between eight and ten?" "Yes." "Very well, I'll tell him to expect you. And Mr. Van Helsing... please be advised that it is Mr. Hashimoto's intention to close down your role in the investigation." "Understood. And welcomed. It has been... difficult." "Yes. Is there anything more?" "No." "In that case, I will wish you a good evening." "And you."
By that time he'd reached OmniMetal's parking lot. He spent a good while going over the parking lot and its environs with a fine-toothed comb. Sure enough, he spotted a ringer - a woman doing landscaping rather inexpertly, and watching the lot a little too intently. After continued searching, he concluded there were no others. How to distract her while he kidnapped one of her fellow employees... He picked up a rock and weighed it in his hand.
Eventually one of the Shadow's targets came out and went to his car - the head of security. The cloaked crusader "shadowed" him to his car, then decided to attach a little tracking device to its bumper. (The thing only had a range of about a mile, but hopefully it would help narrow down the guy's address.) The comm panel reported the car's position to him every thirty seconds until it was out of range. He shrugged; he had bigger fish to fry.
Not much later, the Shadow got the nibble he was waiting for. The middle manager - the target who seemed to know the most - came out into the lot and clicked his beeper at an expensive car. The dark avenger lobbed his invisible rock at a car several rows down, and its alarm started wailing. With that diversion going on, he promptly "vanished" both his target and the man's car (letting the guy see through the illusion so he wouldn't notice). With any luck, when the ringer looked back in this direction, she'd notice nothing untoward. He was just turning back toward his target, gun at the ready to give an unpleasant surprise, when he got one himself - he heard a low humming sound and felt a sudden flash of heat on his back - even through the Kevlar!
The Shadow dove for cover, weaving wildly between cars - hopefully his invisibility would reassert itself upon the agent he'd somehow missed. No more shots were fired at him, but he did not count himself safe; he left the lot on a route circuitous enough to give a snake lumbago, making for a randomly selected point so as to throw no suspicion toward his real neighborhood. When he felt a little safer, he checked his back; there was a neat round hole in his cloak, about an inch wide, and a similar patch on the back of his vest was still a bit warm. He shook his head in disbelief. "Doesn't anybody use bullets any more?!" At least it hadn't really hurt him.
He was just about ready to start heading home for real when his luck began to turn... he heard the beeping of his little tracker over the commlink, and the panel started reporting position information again. Somehow he'd managed to stumble back within its range. [Natural 20's are nice, aren't they?]
He ghosted into the parking garage of a large apartment building, and soon located his target's car. He recovered the tracker - no sense in leaving evidence behind - and made careful note of the address. Should I hit him now? He pondered. Nah. Things were a little too hot at the moment; better to let barking dogs lie until they fell asleep.
Alex made his way back to his usual haunts, deciding to spend the night getting his finger back on his community's pulse. OmniMetal could wait for now. And I'm sure that Mr. Hashimoto and I will have an interesting talk on the morrow.
[This was a fairly short one, as SP was beat and, as always when he's tired, rambled excessively.
It'll depend somewhat on how the phone call goes next session, but I suspect that Alex will decide to let things cool off with OmniMetal before trying a hit again. In that case, we'll probably advance time to mid-December, pausing briefly on important events along the way, like David's return and Thanksgiving. I've also considered writing another short-short to cover that kind of thing, if SP approves.][It will DEFINITELY be a relief to get Carlos back on the job, and to get the bike repaired. Believe me. Alex and I had forgotten how nerve-wracking the life of a solo vigilante can be.]
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The Shadow
Hero
Lela said:
Me too!
I guess so. Certainly we've seen that OmniMetal has ultratech weaponry - like the electric-discharge gun Torrance used.
Sheesh, you're more paranoid even than I am! It's scary!
I suppose I'm not, but tracking seems like a bit of overkill. If it hadn't been for the vest, that shot coulda REALLY hurt.
The Shadow
Hero
Hey guys. I've been thinking of writing up a Dramatis Personae for this game, as the number of characters (to say nothing of aliases!) to keep track of just keeps growing!
I thought I'd ask before I started what sort of format people would like to see? For example, would it be better to sort by first name or last name? (For some characters only the first name is known, and for others only the last name, so it's a little awkward either way.) What sort of information would you like to see collated? Should aliases be given separate entries? Stuff like that.
P.S. SP plans to come down for another marathon session next Wednesday.
P.P.S. Lela, I haven't yet had enough time at my disposal to work on the calendar. However, finals week will be over on Friday, and then I should have time. Sorry for the delay.
I thought I'd ask before I started what sort of format people would like to see? For example, would it be better to sort by first name or last name? (For some characters only the first name is known, and for others only the last name, so it's a little awkward either way.) What sort of information would you like to see collated? Should aliases be given separate entries? Stuff like that.
P.S. SP plans to come down for another marathon session next Wednesday.
P.P.S. Lela, I haven't yet had enough time at my disposal to work on the calendar. However, finals week will be over on Friday, and then I should have time. Sorry for the delay.
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