The Becoming (Super Heroes)

[Enigma]

So, Centurion is... what?

From what we know, he (a) is a short, stocky man with a huge collection of scars, (b) carries lots of firearms, including a rocket launcher, and (c) says that he's at least a few centuries old. Taking him at his word, he's unusually long-lived, but probably doesn't have Superman-like invulnerability -- otherwise, where did the scars come from? He must be a pretty good fighter, because other than his longevity he doesn't seem to have any other significant abilities. (In the fight with the Prophet, though, he did manage to take the effects of that thunderclap better than most of the others, though only Iron Mike was able to keep his feet when the plane went kablooie.)

Maybe the reason he got the scars was that he was weaker when he got them? He grows stronger as time goes by?

[Imperial Overlord]

So... isn't 'red mercury' about as real as adamantium?

About, which makes it appropriate for superhero story. I like to think my version is slightly more plausible than admantium, by virtue of not flagrantly breaking physical laws.

[Simon_Jester]

Would you care to elaborate on how adamantium violates physical laws? I'm not saying it doesn't, but I'd like to hear your take on how and why it does so.

[Imperial Overlord]

Would you care to elaborate on how adamantium violates physical laws? I'm not saying it doesn't, but I'd like to hear your take on how and why it does so.

Read the wiki on it. It's just painful. To damn it with faint praise, its not quite as silly as vibranium.

[Simon_Jester]

The only obvious problem I see is that it may violate the theoretical limits on the strength of metals... I'll look closer later.

[Imperial Overlord]

April 29, 2002

Blackheart slammed his fists rapid fire into the heavy bag, suspending it in the air at roughly a forty five degree angle. "Easy boy," said a deep voice behind him, "you'll break that thing."

Blackheart spinned. "Mike!"

Iron Mike stepped out of the doorway and into the gym. He wore a loose shirt and pants. His hands were swaddled in bandages. He was bald. "Metahuman constitution. Surgery, healing, and more surgery in a fraction of the time."

"Some of heal fast, some of us can totally regenerate, and the rest of us fall in the middle," said Centurion. He was on the bench press, lifting three hundred kilos.

"No fist bump, my man," he said to Blackheart as the other meta came closer. "Still tender. I see the knew guy is chatty."

"There's nothing new about me," said Centurion. "I've seen more action than the rest of Proteus combined. Just because I transferred in three months ago doesn't making me a fucking rookie."

"Tough guy," said Iron Mike.

"You think fire is bad?" said Centurion. "Fire just hurts. Takes a long time healing sure. Try taking an arrow to the eye. Took me years to get all my skills back and the holes in my memory never closed up."

"When was that?" Blackheart asked.

"Ten sixty-six. Fucking Normans."

"Are you saying that-?"

"I was the king of England? Fuck no. Everyone remembers how a king dies. Lots of other people ate arrows. Getting trampled afterwords hurt more though. If my bones weren't stronger than a mortal's I would have been jelly."

"Just how old are you?" asked Iron Mike.

"I'm the Centurion."

"Get the fuck out."

"Suit yourself," said the Centurion. "Because, of course, I'm the only guy in the world who doesn't age. No such thing as Captain Liberty, who was an arsehole even before he was a super terrorist, and the Sentinel. Nope."

"Got a point," said Blackheart. "The best guess was that there have always been a few metas around. WW Two was just a flashpoint, for a lot of different reasons."

"Sure," said Iron Mike. "Could be. It's not like I can check his Latin for the right regional fucking accent."

Centurion laughed. "You boys have it easy. Back in my day, if you developed superhuman powers you started thinking your mother had slept with a god or a monster. You have no idea how much that screws up family relations. Especially if your father finds out and comes to the same conclusion. Got to protect the family honour right?"

Blackheart grimaced. "Yeah, as I said it sucked," said Centurion. "It did make Christianity less attractive. Nothing like thinking your dad is probably Zeus to keep you away from monotheism."

"I see you picked up a nice vocabulary at some point," said Blackheart.

"Didn't spend every year as a soldier," said Centurion. "Sometimes I was pretty flush. A lot of years of peace in there, if you add them all up."

"Huh," said Iron Mike. "Good looting?"

"Yes. It's easier to come out better in a war if you're stronger, tougher, faster, and heal even mortal wounds. Also more practice looting. Although it would nice if the scars faded faster. Anyway, nice to see you up and about."

"Thanks," said Iron Mike. "Not ready to beat the speed bag again, but it's nice to be out of bed. Besides, getting hospitalized is the kid's bag."

"Funny," said Blackheart.

"I thought it was," replied Centurion.

[CaptainChewbacca]

I think I like Centurion alot. I hope he's not a bad guy.

[Hawkwings]

He's probably already done the bad guy thing, way back in whatever century that was. Now he's on the good guy side.

Also, it's about time for Blackheart to do another team rotation right?

[Simon_Jester]

He's probably already done the bad guy thing, way back in whatever century that was. Now he's on the good guy side.

Also, it's about time for Blackheart to do another team rotation right?

At this point, the casualty rate is high enough on his team that, statistically speaking, very few people are going to spend enough time around him for the antipathy field to kick in seriously. On top of that, he's not spending every hour of the day in the same small house with his team, the way he spent every hour in the house with his various foster parents and siblings; exposure drops off that way.

[LadyTevar]

The problem is that the antipathy field grows as the SpaceWasp grows... which is damn near any time Blackheart gets a serious injury. I believe there's some low-level growth that's always happening, which is why his strength has been growing as well as his endurance and toughness. The SpaceWasp seems to be reactive not proactive, as seen when Blackheart could suddenly fly after being tossed out a window. However, the biggest growth/mutation always comes after traumatic injury, when the SpaceWasp rebuilds Blackheart to prevent that situation from harming him again. I'm willing to bet that if someone cut Blackheart's throat now, it would barely affect his breathing and blood flow as backups kick in.

[Simon_Jester]

The problem is that the antipathy field grows as the SpaceWasp grows... which is damn near any time Blackheart gets a serious injury. I believe there's some low-level growth that's always happening, which is why his strength has been growing as well as his endurance and toughness. The SpaceWasp seems to be reactive not proactive, as seen when Blackheart could suddenly fly after being tossed out a window. However, the biggest growth/mutation always comes after traumatic injury, when the SpaceWasp rebuilds Blackheart to prevent that situation from harming him again. I'm willing to bet that if someone cut Blackheart's throat now, it would barely affect his breathing and blood flow as backups kick in.

True, but there's a big "how much?" question involved. How powerful is the antipathic effect, how much does it affect people who know it's there? How fast does it grow as the Space Wasp grows- linearly, logarithmically?* Is the Space Wasp intelligent enough to perceive that its host is a social animal, that a breakdown of the host's interaction with its fellow monkeys could leave it vulnerable, and to try to keep that from happening by toning down the antipathy?** Can the antipathic effect be countered by human psychics, if not by blocking it then by treating the teammates so that they don't build up too much unthinking hatred of him? How much do exposure time and distance affect the equation?

*Almost certainly not geometrically or exponentially, or Blackheart would be absolutely unbearable in a few more years' active duty, and I gather you'd testify against that being true.
**Probably not, but you never know.

[LadyTevar]

IIRC, he had a comment in the Game Thread about psionic dampeners installed in his apartment, but the antipathy was already starting to affect his neighbors in the apartment building to the point they were avoiding him in the halls and elevator. He had a lot of cute female neighbors that he bitched about never having a chance with.
At that point he was ~28yrs old and the Space Wasp was finally mature enough to start engulfing the brain. A driving factor of his RP was how Blackheart was trying to stay himself/human. Two characters promised him that if the SpaceWasp did become the dominate personality, they'd kill him before the Space Wasp could run amok.

[Simon_Jester]

Ah, but how long had he been in the apartment? Exposure time matters; that much is fairly well established.

[LadyTevar]

Ah, but how long had he been in the apartment? Exposure time matters; that much is fairly well established.

You'd have to ask Cyncat. When the game started, he was already living there, so it could have been months to a year. The game itself took place over roughly 6months, with downtime.

[Imperial Overlord]

June 9, 2002

"What are we looking at?" asked Patricia. Her voice was hard and cold.

"Somebody got themselves a new asshole," said Iron Mike. "The hard way." More images flashed over the screen. Someone shifted uncomfortably in a seat towards the rear of the darkened room.

"Jesus fucking Christ," said Blitz. The blond Midwesterner was the youngest man in the room. "Look at all those fucking shell casings. Fifty cal, easy."

"More like twelve point seven millimeter," said the Centurion. "Look at those foot prints."

"The esteemed veteran of Cannae is correct," Taskmaster. "The boot prints are from Russian MK mark III. Red mercury powered, fully enclosed battle armour with power assist, vision and targeting augments. Twelve point seven millimeter machine gun or red mercury powered ion beam rifle primary arnament. Exclusively used by Spetsnaz Omega."

"The Sentinel's boys," said Valkyrie. "Those shots are from somewhere warmer than the USSR. Who pissed off the Russians that much?"

"FARC," said Taskmaster.

"What. The. Fuck," said Iron Mike. "Aren't those assholes leftists?"

"They also provide safe haven for criminals that will pay their taxes," said Taskmaster without a trace of irony. "Dropping an atom bomb on the Sentinel's dacha didn't put Mother Russia in a forgiving mood."

"Huh," Iron Mike grunted.

"Who dimed them out?" Blackheart asked.

"An excellent question," said Taskmaster. At the moment we don't know. The Russians aren't sharing their intelligence, although they're clearly acting on it."

"How did they get all that heavy iron in country with no one knowing about it?" asked Patricia. "It's not like Columbia wants to see a fuck ton of Russian metahuman and elite military operatives flood into their country."

"Teleportation is our best guess," said Taskmaster. "Soviet metahuman programs are still operating on bare bones life support since the 90s and they may have fewer than half as many metahumans as the US, but all of them work for the state. It is unlikely that they dont' have at least one good teleporter."

"So the Russians tore up FARC for giving Black Arion a safe haven and I'm betting they tore up Black Arion pretty good as well," said Blackheart. "Was there a mushroom cloud?"

"No," said Taskmaster. "We had to put this together after the fact."

"Why do they have such a hard on for the Third World anyway?" asked Blitz.

"Because it will suffer fewer nuclear strikes than the rest of the world when push comes to shove."

"Shit," said Blitz. "They're serious insane."

"Yes," said Taskmaster, "but not entirely irrational in their planning. The Cold War is over but the Soviets haven't forgotten that the West was quite enthusiastic in backing Yeltsin and Gorbochev, who would have dismantled the USSR by action and inaction respectively. A move that was unpopular even in the Baltics and grossly unpopular everywhere else. The projections by Soviet analysts are perhaps overly pessimistic, but severe economic and social disruptions were likely to occur. Free elections and sliding to a more open economy haven't erased tensions at the upper levels."

"Doesn't much matter," said Blackheart. "We aren't going to nuke each other anytime soon and the US is still number one. Black Arion's our problem and both of us have reached out and put a hurting on them. What's the next move?"

"That is the question," said Taskmaster. "They're hurt, they're on the run, and they've lost assets but they still have metageniuses, the Alchemist, and Power Monger. It's likely that they will attempt to strike back directly at the agencies harrowing them."

"And they have nukes," said Blackheart flatly.

"Yes," said Taskmaster.

"Fuck," said Blackheart.

[Skyllian Blitz]

Activation email came in today and a new chapter appears as well. Most pleasant.

A wounded beast is one that cowers or lashes out. Black Arion's response is going to be quite something. I'd imagine they'd target something of quite considerable value instead of going after the easiest target.

Also, it seems that Centurion is very old indeed. Battle of Cannae which the Romans lost.

Oh, and I'm assuming complete coincidence of the name of the new meta and my own username. Freaky.

[Imperial Overlord]

August 8, 2002

Chronus stood silently in a tunnel carved out of solid rock by The Prophet. Cables snaked along the ceiling and at roughly regular intervals bare light bulbs hung down, painting the dark rock with harsh white light. There was a faint breeze, courtesy of the air circulating machines.

There was a shimmer and then a loud popping sound as Power Monger and Sidestep appeared out of thin air. "Welcome back," said Chronus. "I trust it went well?"

"Sure," said Power Monger with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. "Nothing better to do than give a bunch of Muslim extremists super powers. At least most of them will be dead within a year."

"You super charged them?"

"Yeah. That's what you and Prophet wanted right? It's not like we want these guys around for the long haul."

"It is acceptable," said the cyborg. When Power Monger supercharged the metas she created the short term survival rate was almost one hundred percent and they tended to be more powerful than normal. The downside was that most of them would be dead within two years.

"Good. Anyone the Great Satan and Godless Communist Devils will have their hands full for the next couple of years with righteous super powered Muslim cavemen. Chechnya will be a basket case and Afghanistan will be super powered Jihadi central. I guarantee it."

"Good," said Chronus. "That will help give the Russians and the Americans something to worry about besides hunting us."

"They're still a problem," said Sidestep. He was a short, slim black man in jeans and a t-shirt. "They ain't just going to fucking forget about us. Uncle Sam don't work that way and I don't think the Ivans will either. We dropped a fucking nuke on them, man."

"Oh they will not forget us," said Chronus. "They are, however, in a position of having many problems and comparatively few resources. Between my weapons and your new creations, the Russians will have quite a problem on their hands, at least for a little while."

"And the US?" asked Power Monger. "The desert rats might drag their asses before getting around to putting a hurt on the Great Satan."

"The Americans have more resources, but they're split up among multiple departments and agencies. We simply need to target the ones that concern themselves with foreign operations and decimate them."

"Easier said than done."

"Correct. We do have a dozen new volunteers for you," said Chronus. "We should gain at least one or two powerful operatives. After testing we will finalize our plans and put the operation into motion."

"So you've already got a target?"

"Yes," said Chronus. "Patience is a virtue when dealing with Americans. They inevitably get sloppy."

[LadyTevar]

Ever have the feeling that Our Heroes are about to get the shit kicked out of them?

I hope Iron Mike and Valkyrie get together first.

[Imperial Overlord]

August 30, 2002

Gunslinger watched his targets through a scope so high tech they hadn't even invented acronyms for its vision systems yet. Multispectrum vision allowing him to watch in any part of the EM band he fucking well wanted and that was just the passives. The thing was unreal.

The rifle it was mated to was a monster as well. Fourteen millimeter bore and nothing but specialty rounds. He could one shot an Abrams with the monster, which was pretty much what the job called for. Some of the fuckers he had shot back in Canada had actually managed to live and he had been using a fifty cal with custom ammo. It was getting to be hard to be a professional these days. Too many fucking metas that were too fucking hard to kill.

Still, at least some things were reliable. Like the CI fucking A being too full of lawyers and bureaucrats to keep anything secret from the spies they had in the woodwork. Sending their meta hit teams out of house for some training was a good idea in theory, but not so much if Black Arion was able to read the mail. And that lead to him with his ass up a tree with a ubertech supergun looking through walls two klicks away at CIA metas training in an American mercenary company's facilities. Fucking pissants.

A strap secured the rifle barrel to the tree trunk, steadying the monster gun in the killer's hands. It made the work easier, as did the almost next to nothing recoil. Now all he had to do was hit targets two klicks away on the other side of a concrete wall.

Waiting sucked, but he did it. Waited and watched. Eventually they began to file out, man shaped blobs of light exiting the building. The scope went active. As he passed it over their ranks. Some were too bright to be mere mortals. A scanning shift and he saw just men and women in fatigues. Another shift and he saw through the walls themselves. Nothing inside.

Leading the targets was easy, something Gunslinger did instinctively. Two kilometers was a long, long way to shoot even with smart rounds, but Gunslinger had been one of the best before metapowers made him a god among shooters. The gun roared and he shifted targets and fired again. Shift and fire again. The first target fell. The second target flew to pieces. He fired on the fifth.

He swayed in his perch as hot wind from an explosion buffeted him. One hundred meters closer and it might have wounded him. He pulled the trigger to more times. Half a kilometer away a crimson slicer beam turned tree branches into confetti and toppled trunks cut smooth as glass. Then there was nothing but dying echoes.

Job done. Targets dead. Time to leave.

[White Haven]

It's back! Spiffiness abounds.

[LadyTevar]

Dammit... I want to see that sniper dead. He's too dangerous to live.

[Simon_Jester]

Hurray! I remember this one.

Going to have to reread to get into the swing of things, when I have the time. Do you expect that there'll be substantially more, IO?

[LadyTevar]

Like his other stories, he posts when he has a urge.

[Simon_Jester]

I know; I was wondering if he felt like there'd be inspiration for more material. Sometimes one can tell whether or not one is likely to hit a dry spell.

[Imperial Overlord]

I know; I was wondering if he felt like there'd be inspiration for more material. Sometimes one can tell whether or not one is likely to hit a dry spell.

I tend to be more likely to write on things I get feedback about and that I'm in the mood to write.