An Outsider

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

MrDidact said
BlackSam, Not especially just have some... plans for her *turns other way to evilly cackle* take your time though

Ha ok. Let me know where you want me to start with her when I'm ready then so I don't disrupt your plans too much.

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

MrDidact said
BlackSam can I get an ETA on when you can finish Morningstar?

Uh, is there a rush for her? Within the next 24 hours hopefully.

Yog Sothoth said
@BlackSam3091, just so there's no confusion, the public does not know Hot Rod's real identity, he's just really well known as a hero. Volt can use his real name, just don't mention it to anyone outside of the League.

My bad, you wanting me to edit that out?

On a related note I'm considering putting Hot-Rod into Volt's rogues gallery, on account of all the conversation hi-jacking he's been doing.

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

Cordelia sized him up like a prize fighter staring down a rowdy drunk, as if she was trying to decide if he was worth her time. Didn't bother him unduly, dressing up as gaudily as he did you had to be prepared for folks to stare. He just sat patiently, eyes rolling slowly across her now bare wrists, taking in the faint scars and hint of ink. Aye, definitely not the Leagues usual type of recruit. Isn't that refreshing? He couldn't help but notice how much pastries and sweets she had piled up on her plate, and how quickly she was putting it away, like she wasn't used to being so well provided for. Maybe she just saw the League as a free meal? Hell, she wouldn't be the first one through the doors with that kinda idea. It took a while, but he finally seemed to pass muster, Whisper, or Cord as she apparently preferred to go by, finally started to speak to him.

Tommy laughed, warm and genuine, at her suggestions for his next pick up line.

“Would ya believe me if ah told ya ah was one ah the first to put on brightly coloured tights and risk ma life on a daily basis after the awakening, and ah've honestly never thought to use that line in ma puff!” It was true. Just because you got superpowers didn't mean you also got a way with words. Silvertongue was always getting at him for the lacklustre quality of his puns. He chuckled again. He found himself warming to Cord, enjoying her no-bullshit attitude. Too many people he dealt with nowadays were either politician's or wannabe celebrity’s, always smiling outta the side of their heads.

“Ok, Cord it is, though ah'm 'fraid ah'll have to insist on ye calling me Volt. No offence, ah'm just no the trusting sort.” He shrugged, as if to say 'Nothing personal'. Which it wasn't. The Lightning-Slinger still hadn't told Sonja his real name, and by his reckon she'd pulled his bacon from the fire three times in the last six months.

This was good, he decided, discourse was good. Volt was just starting to think he could make some sorta leeway with Cord, maybe she was a bit guarded but that was hardly uncommon. She seemed ready to be receptive to whatever he had to say anyway. I gotta say, I ain't half bad at this induction lark. Shift over Apogee, the League has a new public face! Aye, everything was going swimmingly, until that bloody numpty Hot-Rod stuck his big nose in.

Volt had met Hot-Rod, otherwise known as Ryker Charleston, in the Fortress, a Chicago club well known for catering to super powered clients. Then, like now, Ryker had 'invited' himself to a conversation he wasn't strictly part of. Terrible manners not withstanding, after Volt had got to know Ryker he'd realised he was one of the 'good ones'. Sure, he had a fat head, bad timing and was in desperate need of a boot up the arse, but his heart was in the right place. But of course he was just the sorta show-boater that would be sure to piss off Cord.

The lady in question had gone stiff as a statue when the speedster arrived, her whole body going rigid. Volt had plenty of dealings with real hard types in the past to know this lassie was one of them, or at least knew what she was doing. She didn't so much flinch as she just stopped making any sudden movements, her slow gaze swivelling to fix Ryker in place. Yeah, she was dangerous alright, but it wasn't an obvious type of danger. Her shadow though, deep and black and swaying like a dancing cobra, that looked dangerous. Jesus, listen to me. A dangerous looking shadow. What a world we live in.

The Lightning-Slinger tried, and failed, to hold in an irratated sigh, rolling his eyes and mouthing along as Ryker described himself as 'America's favourite hero'. Only six months he'd known the man, but Volt felt he'd heard that line more often than he'd had hot dinners. Never heard anyone else say that Hot-Rod was their favourite hero though. Still, if nothing else you had to admire the man's confidence. Though I reckon that brass neck must slow him down some.

"Ryker, this here is Cord. Me and Cord were just having a lil private one-to-one, see if I couldn't help settle her into our little club." He put as much emphasis on 'private' as possible, mostly because the past had shown that Hot-Rod was just fucking terrible at picking up on social ques. He tried to give Ryker a look that said 'I'll explain later', but it wouldn't have surprised him overly much if the speedster stuck around to argue his case. If there was one thing Hot-Rod loved more than being a hero, it was talking. The Scotsman decided not to give his friend the chance though, turning his attention back to Cord.

"Nah, ah ain't bullshitting ya. For one ah doubt it woulda worked, 'Cannae bullshit a bullshitter' as my da always says. And no, coincidentally, he never did nothing but love me. Ah can't stand the life, or mosta the people, ah shit ma breeks at the starta every fight I get into, and ah hate the way ah look in tights. Ah do this cause ah have to. If ah could ah'd give it all up right now and get the next plane home."

"Truth be told ah'm here talking to ya cause the high hegions felt ye could do with someone to talk to. So, in their infinite wisdom, they sent me. Lucky bint that ye are." he smiled at that, his warm blue eyes sparkling with good humour.

"So, if in ya ever feel the need to talk, know that ah'm willing to lend an ear." He shrugged again, as if to say that she could do what she wanted, he wasn't her boss.

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

Sounds good to me chief.

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

Six months. Six months since he'd left London for Chicago. Six months since he'd stood in the League hall with hundreds of other colourful hopefuls and been told that he was the future of world security. Six months since he'd fought Shank, Boomer and co alongside Sonja and Olympia. Six months since he'd fist stumbled onto Legion. Six months and still no more sign of Obsidian, other than the occasional second hand report. Six months, and he still couldn't work a webcam.

The apartment accommodation the League had supplied Tommy when he joined had been fully kitted out with a small TV, desktop and phone, really everything he could have asked for. The computer even had a built in webcam, an extremely useful tool for anyone like him from across the pond, eager to get in contact with folks back home but who wanted something a little more personal than the telephone. The only problem being was that you could lead a horse to water, but you couldn't make it drink, or in this case teach him to drink. Even with Silvertongue's coaching he still struggled for about ten minutes to get the screen to show anything other than fuzz. Tonight he was trying to contact Clara Lord, his ex-girlfriend and one of only two confidants he trusted with his secret identity. Clara was giggling, enjoying his losing battle with technology a little too much for his peace of mind.

"How can you, Hi-Voltage, Lightning-Slinging hero extraordinaire, a veritable God of the new age, admit defeat to a humble web cam? What would the tabloids say." Usually Tommy thought there was no hard feelings between them after the breakup, but moments like this made him wonder if maybe she wasn't quite as amicable as she made out about the whole thing. He didn't get much time to think about it though as suddenly, and for no reason he could discern, the webcam blinked into life, his face jumping onto the screen. Clara gave a sarcastic slow clap and he accepted the praise graciously with a flamboyant bow.

"So then Miss Lord, how's thing back home?" he asked after settling himself into his chair.

"Oh you know, same old. Szymon is still up to his old tricks. Did he tell you. . . " After that they spent half an hour just chewing the fat, discussing a variety of topics ranging from the antics of his old friends from home, a new reform that Parliament were discussing that would require all superhero's living in Britain to register with the government, and the latest adventures of The British-Bulldog. Since Hi-Voltage had left London the Bulldog had really stepped up, filling Tommy's spot as the United Kingdom's pre-eminent hero. He'd surprised everyone by showing a maturity a responsibility that he'd never displayed before, and Clara suggested that perhaps he'd even become League material. Tommy decided to mention his name to Zenith next time they spoke. As usual the conversation ended the same way it always did lately, with an argument. It was the same one they always had, and they both knew it was coming, but like a deer in the headlights neither could do anything to avoid it.

"So. . .Tommy. When do you think you can come home?" She said it hesitantly, like she knew she shouldn't ask. Tommy sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair to put off the answer as long as possible.

"You know I can't come home Clara, not yet. Obsidian is . . . "

"Jesus Tommy, his name is Donald Sharpe! How can someone like you, someone so against being a costumed hero, keep calling that serial killer by a fucking codename. It's ridiculous." The venom in her voice was enough to make him bow his head in sorrow. It hurt, to hear her speak like that, but it hurt even more to know she was right.

"Just come home," she said, sounding close to begging. "Leave the League to deal with him. You've done enough." She was just saying things he'd already said to himself. He'd been doing this for years now, living a lie for no other reason than he was guilty. But guilt was a powerful motivator, or so he'd found. Yeah, she might have been speaking the truth, but her truth was no match for his guilt. He raised his head and sat up straighter, and Clara knew she had lost him again.

"Listen Clara, I have to go. League business." They made some rushed goodbye's, Clara managing to elicit a promise from him that he would call the next week, before he flicked off the cam, this time with no fuss. He took a few minutes to adjust his half mask and goggles, being one of the few heroes to always wear his costume around the League base. He thought about the task ahead of him. Zenith had asked him to help Apogee with making the new kids feel more welcome. Tommy didn't know why he'd been singled out for this one, but when the big guy asked him to do something he usually just got down to doing it.

He took a second to lock his door behind him before heading towards the common room. After all, it always pays to be careful, even in a building full of superheroes. . . Especially in a building full of superheroes.

---

There she was, the lassie that Zenith had asked him to look out for. Whisper, or Cordelia Holmes if you wanted to be proper, which Volt generally didn't. Be a bit of a brass neck if he did, going about telling folks his name was 'Hi-Voltage' after all. She looked like a bit of a ned right enough, and the big man was worried that she was having difficulty fitting in. Didn't take a genius to figure out why. Whisper was cut from a different cloth of just about every other new kid here. Where the rest were all trim and shiny, looking like they were decked out in their Sunday best for the occasion, Cordelia looked like she wouldn't give a toss if the whole place caught fire and went up in smoke. Hell, she looked like she might enjoy that wee spectacle. Still, best I don't judge the book by it's cover, even if books are giving covers for a reason.

The lanky Scot ambled over to Whisper's table, pulling a chair out across from her and seating himself without asking permission. He remembered a time, not to long ago, when he'd done similar with another lassie who had struggled with the League at first. Midnight never made it in the end though, but Volt couldn't be sure what would happen with this one. Wouldn't hurt for him to offer her a hand, anyway.

He never spoke at first, merely sat and idly watched Chrome put some recruits through their paces in the training room. Volt felt for them, he really did. Five years I've been risking life and limb in this game, and I ain't ever had a doing like the one I got offa Chrome, and that was just in practice! Eventually he turned back to Whisper and offered her an open and friendly smile.

"Hey Whisper, I'm Volt. I hate super-hero's too. Weird that, huh?" It was a line Pariah had told him to use. Apparently Whisper wasn't sold on the whole costumed heroics deal, so the founders had decided to send her Hi-Voltage. Volt's distaste for the super-heroic lifestyle, while perhaps not as pronounced as Whisper's, was still more well developed than just about any other member of the Leagues. He felt like a charlatan every time he donned his costume, but did it out of sheer moral obligation and personal guilt. They thought he had a better chance of connecting with her than anyone else here, and if that failed then maybe his friendly demeanour might get through to her.

Well, now the ball was in her court.

Batman: Gotham Knights

Ah, so is that a good thing they mind you of person of interest then?

Batman: Gotham Knights

Not sure I get that reference Thatguy.

Batman: Gotham Knights

Sounds good to me. After the battering the knight armour took I might have Galahad just running around in a trench coat with a pistol until the battle with LOA, go for a bit of a Question vibe for a bit.

Mass Effect: Mercenaries

Consider yourselves told off. Anymore of that and you're all grounded.

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

He Who Walks Behind said
Delly's in the common room wolfing down snacks, which seemed the most appropriate place to begin with an 18 year old. Anybody wants to interact with her, feel free.

Imma gonna get a post up with Volt later tonight, and I think I might have him join Delly, if you don't mind.