The Becoming (Super Heroes)

[LadyTevar]

Hmm... Argent should have played that up more then.

[Buritot]

Is there other reading material out for this universe? Various comments on your story made it out that way...

By the way, I liked it thus far. But in one of the earlier chapters there was a part where Blackheart was fighting and every time he did something or was effected by something it was his name that was used. It was a pain to read a sequence of sentences the like of "After Blackheart stood up, Blackheart started to throw puches back at Blackhearts foe. It wasn't Blackhearts way to hold back."
I paraphrased since I don't know which chapter it was (his first fight against Corpse King?).

[LadyTevar]

Actually, this is an 'origin story' for IO's character in an RPG on another forum, LibriumArcana. You can see the start of the RPG here. There were three Chapters, although the game did finally die out from a mix of PowerCreep, PC/player politics, and lazy GM.
A shame. The background and ongoing story had a lot of promise.

[Imperial Overlord]

March 7, 2002

The music struck Blackheart like a hammer blow as he stepped inside. The warehouse was packed with people, the darkness broken by lasers and glow sticks as the DJ upped the volume. He moved down into the sea of humanity.

A scraggly bearded dude in a flannel shirt tried to sell him ecstasy. He dismissed him with barely a glance and hit the bar. His hand shook. He was so god damn nervous. He had faced metahuman killers with ice in his veins and this made him nervous? God, what a joke. He ordered double whiskey.

Of course, he had a better record with metahuman killers than with people. The whiskey burned going down and he ordered another. That went down a little slower than the first. The sipped the third and soon enough it was done.

The alcohol shot through his body and he began to loosen up and lose some of the tension. Fuck it, was he going to watch from the sidelines forever? What was the worst that could happen?

The dance floor was packed. He felt so god damn clumsy. He tried copying the movements of those around him and keeping in synch with the music and gradually he found the rhythm. The song ended and the next one began and he moved with the crowd to match the rhythm.

A pretty brunette smiled at him. He smiled back. She moved closer and he matched his movements to hers. The tempo of the music increased. He threw back his head and laughed and the whole world sped up.

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

Blackheart stood on the ledge and looked down. At this time of night the streets were mostly deserted, but here and there a few ant-like pedestrians went about their business. His breath puffed out in a cloud of mist. It was cold out, but he didn't feel it.

He hadn't gotten anywhere with the girl. She had been pretty stoned by the end of it and had gone home with her friends, but that was okay. He had no intention of taking advantage of a half conscious woman. Just that something could have happened was enough. What was the saying? Once bitten, twice shy? He was carrying a ton of baggage when it came to relationships with anything, but that didn't mean he had to live in isolation. He had mentors, he had a team, he even had friends of a sort. He could have more.

Blackheart stepped off the edge and floated to the ground. Eyes followed him down. That was fine. He was the god damned Blackheart. Time wasn't on his side, but he had faced everything the world had thrown at him and had not broken. He wasn't going to spend however much time he had left hiding.

[LadyTevar]

He didn't get anywhere with that girl... but he did get a needed boost of confidence.

Now, will he actually come back to the HQ without being in the hospital this time?

[Imperial Overlord]

March 8, 2002

"Ouch," said the bartender. "Shot down in flames. You took that well."

"Fuck it," replied Blackheart. "Plenty of fish in the sea right? All it cost me to find out that she was a mean bitch was the price of a drink. Some poor bastards end up forking over a house to learn that."

"That's right," she replied with a smile. The nametag on her vest said "Claire."

"Give me another," said Blackheart as he passed over a ten. "Keep the change."

"Sure thing," she replied. "Better pace yourself stud or you'll be flat on your back soon and not in a good way."

He smiled. "Is the stand up part of your regular routine or is bartending just a side job?"

"I only break it out for the good tippers," Claire replied.

"A question: what is the proper etiquette for hitting on your bartender?"

"Normally that's the 'don't go there' zone, but if you really insist on doing it the proper way is to slip him or her your name and phone number and see if they call you."

"Sounds reasonable," Blackheart replied. He pulled out a pen and wrote on the back of a card. He slipped it across the bar. "Give me a call or not. I'll be up late. Have a good night either way."

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March 9, 2002

"Mmm," Claire shifted and turned over and stretched. She yawned and opened her eyes. Light flooded the room and she was alone in the bed. "Damn," she said softly.

She lounged in bed for a small eternity before getting up and hitting the shower. David was waiting for her in the other room. "Hi."

"Hi yourself. You got up early."

"I don't need much sleep," he replied. "I do, however, eat like a shark. I got hungry and didn't want to disturb you. Want room service?"

"Probably costs an arm and a leg."

"That is the down side with four stars, but you're worth it."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Well, one for one so far."

"Haw," she said. "I owe myself twenty bucks."

"Why?"

"I thought you were a virgin."

"That wasn't what- oh fuck it. I was."

She dropped down beside him and gave him a hug. "Men are so self conscious about it. Relax. You did fine. For a rookie. And your stamina is awesome. Let me break you in a bit and teach you some tricks and you'll be a regular love god."

"Break me in a bit huh?"

"After a careful evaluation period, I have decided you might be worth the time and effort. I have a patented 'screw your brains out' training system."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It isn't. Now order up some room service bitch. I'm hungry."

[Rahvin]

This isn't going to end well. Not at all. He's going to get emotionally attached, and his space-wasp miasma is going to drive her away in the worst "he's a monster and he's going to kill and possibly eat me" way, and it's going to completely break his heart.

Superstrong, laser-shooting, flying, extremely tough metas with broken hearts aren't pretty.

This is going to be worse for him than all of the foster families that rejected him.

Unless, of course, he figures out a way to counter the miasma. But what girlfriend wants a rotating cycle of exposure and long-distance relationship to prevent the buildup of hatred and paranoia?

[consequences]

The other option is hookers and one night stands, so fuck it. Time enough for angst later.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Unless, of course, he figures out a way to counter the miasma. But what girlfriend wants a rotating cycle of exposure and long-distance relationship to prevent the buildup of hatred and paranoia?

An independent-minded bartender who's seen too much of the world?

[LadyTevar]

Blackheart knows what's going to happen, mentally. He probably feels prepared for it, mentally.
Emotionally, it's going to hurt more than he thought possible.

HOWEVER, the good news is that this is a "Summer Beach Romance". He's not going to be staying for much longer, his vacation will end and he'll be back at HQ within the month. So there's a chance it will end with a "look me up later".


PS: Argent wants to thank this woman for training Blackheart so well

[Eleas]

PS: Argent wants to thank this woman for training Blackheart so well

[LadyTevar]

PS: Argent wants to thank this woman for training Blackheart so well

*sigh* Ok, Argent and Blackheart will meet in about 8yrs in the future. Sparks fly, things get thrown around, people get mauled and maimed, and Blackheart gets the girl. Temporarily. He then drops girl like yesterday's news when The Wasp matures.

But it's nice seeing Blackheart when he wasn't a cynical hardass bastard.

[Eleas]

*sigh* Ok, Argent and Blackheart will meet in about 8yrs in the future. Sparks fly, things get thrown around, people get mauled and maimed, and Blackheart gets the girl. Temporarily. He then drops girl like yesterday's news when The Wasp matures.

But it's nice seeing Blackheart when he wasn't a cynical hardass bastard.

I reiterate: This is Blackheart as a starry-eyed young idealist?

[LadyTevar]

But it's nice seeing Blackheart when he wasn't a cynical hardass bastard.

I reiterate: This is Blackheart as a starry-eyed young idealist?

Yes, this is young Blackheart. Scary, ain't it. At this point he's still got vague hopes of an actual love-life.

[Agent Fisher]

Ah, Blackheart and Argent. And before that Saibot, and then after Blackheart, Tachyon.

Man, that was one messed up love quadrangle(?).

[LadyTevar]

Ah, Blackheart and Argent. And before that Saibot, and then after Blackheart, Tachyon.

Man, that was one messed up love quadrangle(?).

Yeah... Argent might have been better off just with Blackheart.

[Imperial Overlord]

March 11, 2002

"Wow," said Blackheart.

"Oh yeah," said Claire. "The Rookery."

"It's like a giant stuck his fist inside of it and ripped it heart out."

"Nine-Eleven," she said sadly. "Everyone hears it and they think New York, but they hit us too. More than ten thousand dead. Lot less property damage. They had a guy who controlled machines. Wrecked the el, smashed up the streets, blocked the intersections with wrecked cars and sent them out of control running down the sidewalks. It was, God it was-"

Blackheart put his hand on her shoulder. "Easy," he said.

"Fuck," she said. "It still gets to me and I didn't even lose anybody. I was at home sleeping when it happened. By the time I knew something was going on the Canadians were already here and the bad guys were getting their asses handed to them. And here I am tearing up."

"It's alright," he said. "It was a bad time and the wound is still fresh."

"Thanks," she said. "Lets just go grab a bite to eat, okay."

"Sure," he said.

"What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Nine-Eleven. What was it like for you?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Oh God, did you lose someone?"

"Yeah. Sort of," he said. He let out a deep breath. "Team mates. We weren't close, but they were comrades." He stopped for a moment. "We got teleported into New York and we threw down with the bad guys until we won or we couldn't fight any longer. Some of died, some of us ended up in the hospital, and some of were standing at the end. I had a comfy hospital bed."

"Wait, wait. Are you telling me that you're some kind of meta?"

Blackheart's eyes flashed. "Yeah. I work for Uncle Sam and I kick supervillain ass for a living."

"Christ," she said. "A real, honest to God superhero."

"I don't know about the hero part," he said with a shrug, "but I do fight the bad guys."

"Look buddy, in my book you bring me breakfast in bed and you're a hero. So you're stuck with it."

"Yes ma'am." He gave her a sloppy salute.

"Do you have one of those superhero code names?"

"Yes."

"It isn't something lame like Captain Patriot or something like that?"

"Blackheart."

"Kinda cool, but not really appropriate for a sweetheart like you."

"Each man contains legions."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means I'm a nice guy when I'm dating and hell on wheels when I'm putting the boots to the bad guys."

She smiled at him. "I can live with that, at least for the eight days of vacation you have left."

"Good."

"What's your costume like?"

"Form fitting black body armour. Spandex only looks good in comics."

She giggled. "God, I know. Captain Liberty's get up? Before he turned out to be evil. What was he thinking?"

"Nineteen thirties Action Comics. Superman."

"Superwho?"

"Superman. First comic book superhero. He wore this blue and red costume, kind of like an old fashioned circus strongman. The Captain Liberty costume is a clear rip off. Superhero comics used to be this kind of wacky subgenre, then came World War Two and we had real metahuman. Everything changed after that."

"Huh. Didn't know that. You're not going to go all comic book geek on me are you?"

"Me? I'm a tough guy superhero. I only go comic book geeky on request. Normally I bend steel girders and other forms of manly activity."

"Lunch?"

"Only if it is manly food like huge submarine sandwiches or chili and not sissy stuff like tofu."

She linked her arm with his. "You're on killer."

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March 20, 2002

Patricia and Matador watched Blackheart walk down the hall. "He got laid," said Patricia.

"How can you be sure?"

"A woman knows. Trust me, he got laid. Not a virgin anymore."

"We men have our ways as well. The locker room shall confirm all."

"Ahh, the locker room. The mysterious site of male bonding and wisdom sharing. When you're not bragging about the skanks you've slept with."

"No secrets from the telepath." He stopped for a moment. "You didn't read his mind, did you?"

"Don't be disgusting. Most peoples minds are open sewers and those that aren't are even worse."

"Gotcha. Well, good for him. He's an annoying fuck but at least he lost his cherry before the job killed him."

[LadyTevar]

Oh, I bet Matador and Big Mike give him hell over it. The "annoying fuck" worries me, tho. The SpaceWasp is getting to them at last, isn't it.

[Imperial Overlord]

April 3, 2002

Taskmaster sat down at the desk facing the panel of senators. He adjusted his mike and took a sip of water. He was wearing his best suit. It wasn't that good.

The chairman, a neocon idiot elected on the back of completely undeliverable and contradictory promises and kept in office through the power of incumbency, addressed him. "Mister . . . ah Taskmaster, are you ready to begin?"

"Of course senator."

"Before we begin," said another white male over the age of fifty. "I'm not going to listen from a report from a man I can't even put a name to. None of this code name bullshit, what is it?"

"Senator," said Taskmaster patiently, keeping every ounce of contempt out of his voice and body language, "after more than fifty years of intelligence service, the agencies of the United Stats government have concluded that the best way to keep our nation's most valuable secrets from our enemies is to hide the identities of those who know them. Security measures equal to those that protect the president and similar public figures are extraordinarily expensive. You do have the right, of course, as a member of this committee to send in a request and receive all the details about me that are covered in my file. I respectfully ask you to delay such a request until you are sure that you need to do so. As is indicated in my report, Black Arion has made deliberate and successful attempts to turn those involved in the machinery of government. All of us, and everyone associated with us, are on that target list.

Taskmaster reached into his briefcase and removed a handful of manila file folders. He handed them to an aide who then distributed them to the committee members. "There is a list of compromised personnel and the positions they occupy in this file. The list, of course, only covers the individuals you know about. It includes workers at the Pentagon, Quantico, Langley, the White House, and of course staff members of a number of senators." Including two of the committee members, but there was no point in rubbing it in.

"I see," said the senator. "Why don't you tell us more about what you're doing about these terrorists?" he said, changing the subject.

"Of course senator. We have recently managed to find and neutralize a Black Arion base, including several metahuman operatives. Seven of their operatives are being held and interrogated and their ability to recruit and subvert U.S. government personnel has been damaged. To the best of my knowledge no other agency has managed a success of this magnitude. We are continuing to follow leads and are evaluating captured materials. Preliminary data suggests we should gain a good understanding of their operating methods. Their goals, the ignition of a human-metahuman race war and the building a new civilization on top of the wreckage of the old, is well understood."

The chairman adjusted his glasses. "In your estimation, how likely are these guys to succeed?"

"They won't," said Taskmaster. "The risk of a metahuman-human race war is very real. In 2001, one thousand and seventeen people died trying to give themselves powers and that doesn't count the flyby night criminal operations. In the United States alone there were twenty-three new criminal metahumans identified, of which seventeen were dealt with out of a population of one hundred and six new metahumans, up from one hundred and two the previous year. Simply put, the rate of metahuman eruption is increasing world wide, and do to the side effects of developing metahuman powers and the nature of the individuals attempting illegal augmentation and power triggering, a disproportionately high number of them are criminals. Government metahuman operatives, sanctioned city defenders, and independent vigilantes do help reduce the public impression that metahumans are terrorists or ciminals, but the damage is being done. Black Arion threw it's net too wide and struck too early, but the overall problem remains."

"This is hardly our remit," grumbled the chairman.

Of course not, you idiot, thought Taskmaster. "Of course not, senator. Domestic metahuman policy falls outside the scope of this committee and my directive. It is, however, relevant as it pertains to the goals of metahuman terrorists." And the future of the human race, not that I would entrust it to you.

"You haven't gotten to the nukes," said another senator. "I was given to understand that they dropped a nuclear bomb on Russian soil. What the hell are you doing about that?"

"Direct examination of the site is impossible because of Soviet security forces," replied Taskmaster. "However it is clear that a nuclear weapon was detonated and that is consistent with Black Arion's demonstrated level of technical expertise. It is not, however, consistent with their infrastructure. In other words, they have the knowhow to build nuclear weapons, but they shouldn't have the facilities to do so. The most likely answer is that their membership contains individuals with powers that bridge the gap. Still, even with matter transmutation abilities the requirement for the creation of a nuclear device remain formidable. It is likely that they only possess a few and will be extremely reluctant to use them. Unfortunately, they have clearly indicated that they will use them on a sufficiently high value target like The Sentinel. And they aren't the only nuclear capable group."

It took a moment for that to sink in. "What are you talking about?" asked the chairman.

"This year saw the reemergence of a vigilante group, or capes as they are sometimes referred to, known as Guardian Force. Preliminary analysis indicates despite the similarity in costume and equipment, including power rings that generate so called "hard light" virtual particles, this is a new team. The size and build of several individual don't match the originals, they clearly have less field experience using their gear, and their secondary weapons are different. Their sponsors remain unknown, but this appears to be the field test of the second generation of Guardian Force gear and they are equipped with weapons that equal the best in America's and the Soviet Union's arsenals. To my knowledge no one else has managed to weaponize "hard light" devices that small. The force is notably composed exclusively of mundanes or apparent mundanes. It is my hope that they are in fact working for some branch of the United State's government. The idea of a private entity with both the technical skill to create such potent "hard light" devices, the nuclear reactors that creating such devices mandate, hiding and arming a private strike force, and then hiding it successfully is not pleasant. I hope Ultima and the FBI have success in determining their origins."

"You said they were a nuclear threat."

"Nuclear reactors and hard light technology guarantee that they will be able to create fission devices if they desire," said Taskmaster. "In fact, it would be simpler and cheaper to just produce atomic bombs. The Nazis were pioneers in the field and they had nothing like those rings and that was under the direction of a metagenius."

"I see," said the chairman. "Is that all?"

"Those are the highest level potential threats," replied Taskmaster. "The rising trend towards increasing number of metahuman operatives continues in Islamic terror organizations, mirroring the world increase in the number of metahumans and the prominence of metahuman counter terror operatives. While we expect these organizations to suffer severe losses over the next two years and to have their ability to undertake operations crippled by their losses, until that process is complete we can expect increased terrorist activity and damage from them as they undertake retaliatory operations."

The meeting continued in a haze of statistic, details, jargon, and questions of highly variable intelligence and insight. At the end Taskmaster was dismissed and was transported by mirror shade wearing federal agents to his hotel. He already knew the results. A few resources would be deployed in areas where they needed more and his budget would get a modest increase despite the the attempts of every other agency to tear his operation apart and steal his metas. For now he possessed a lever large enough to move the world and he would take it as far from doomsday as he could.

He opened the door to his suite and threw on the lights. He closed the door behind him and surveyed the room. "Penumbra is it? Come on out."

A humanoid shadow detached itself from the darkened bathroom. "How did you know I was here?"

"The shadow was too dark," said Taskmaster.

"Remarkable," said Penumbra. "Anyone else and I might think you were fucking with me."

"I assume you're here to kill me?"

"No. Chronus and the Prophet want you alive."

[consequences]

So, constant telepathic monitoring? Subvocalized distress call? Thought activated panic button? How is Taskmaster going to use this to fuck them?

[Simon_Jester]

Bad move, Black Arion; Taskmaster is this universe's version of the goddamn Batman. OK, he's Batman-with-a-desk-job, but Batman wouldn't be all that much less dangerous at a desk job.

[Imperial Overlord]

Thanks to Batman and Serafina for help with the German. All mistakes are mine.

"I'll have to revise my estimates of their intelligence," replied Taskmaster. "Downward."
Penumbra attempted to lunge forward. Instead he found he couldn't move.

"How-"

"I'm not a villain in a Republic serial. I have no intention of explaining myself to you." Taskmaster telekinetically pinched the blood vessels feeding Penumbra's brain, shutting the bloodflow down to a trickle. "Matador, Patricia, please come in."

There was a soft whump of displaced air and both the metahuman agents were standing next to Taskmaster. "Snatch and grab huh?" said Patricia. "And you said assassination by sniper or remote detonated explosive was more likely."

"It appears I overestimated their intelligence," said Taskmaster as Penumbra collapsed bonelessly inside the cocoon of telekinetic force. "As they underestimated my protection." The skin of darkness enveloping Penumbra faded away to reveal a short, pale man in his late thirties with curly red hair and acne scars. A chemical patch floated out of Taskmaster's pocket and attached itself to the side of Penumbra's neck.

"Take him to the transport site, full restraints and neutralizers. Patricia, stand by for full interrogation."

"How much do you think he knows?" Patricia asked.

"He's a long range teleporter. By capturing him we've compromised their transportation abilities and whatever bases he's visited. I want to know everything he knows and I want it yesterday. I don't care what you have to do to him. Get that data. Quickly."

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April 4, 2002

"You did what?!" roared Chronus. Chronus, the Prophet, and Power Monger were in a wide corridor that lead to a hanger. The dark haired woman shrank back from the silver cyborg's fury.

"He was a high priority target," Power Monger said defensively. "With what he knew we could dismantle his whole organization."

"And just because our agents didn't see any defences you thought he was helpless? Dummkopf! Du damliche damliche Schlampe!"

"We don't have time for recriminations," said the Prophet calmly. "We must address the situation."

"Penumbra has mental blocks," said Power Monger. "Even if they managed to capture him, they'll get nothing. His mind will burn out first."

"Not if they overcome the blocks," said Chronus. "We aren't talking about Ultima or CIA hacks. This is Directorate III of Proteus."

"He's right," said the Prophet. "We should evacuate ever compromised site and you will not initiate any operations without our approval."

"I'm a full member of the Inner Circle!" Power Monger protested.

"You were," said Chronus. "Then you fucked up. We'll start with loading the heavy equipment. I'll alert the other facilities."

Metal squealed. Heads turned back to the end of the hanger where a huge black man was tearing open the armoured door. Iron Mike had ripped out a two meter tall strip of metal and was pulling it back like he was opening a sardine can. Valkyrie was the first one through the gap her hair floating in the air and blue-white sparks floating around her head.

"I'll hold them," said The Prophet mildly. "Evacuate everyone out the back and put the sterilization in motion. Go."

[White Haven]

I won a bet with myself over Taskmaster revealing himself to be a meta. Hurrah!

[Simon_Jester]

I sit corrected.

Taskmaster is the goddamn Batman with a desk job and superpowers. And here I was guessing his only superpower was enhanced intelligence...

[Eleas]

That's one hell of an ace up your sleeve.