[The camera begins pointed at a monitor showing news coverage of the arrest of Micha Piper and the Novas who helped break up his NYC operation. The video pauses and pulls back to show three men, one in a suit, one in a lab coat and one in a leather jacket and sunglasses.]
Suit#1: Mr. Blackmore, you don't much like being in the public eye, do you?
John Blackmore: What do you think, man? Of course I like ot keep to myself.
Suit#1: But don't you ever think that you could do more good by being a more public figure?
Blackmore: What more could I by being hounded by paprazzi all the time?
Suit#1: Well, Novas like The Fireman and Ceastus Pax use the media to great advantage. To show the public that they's nothing to fear from them.
Blackmore: Is that true? That there's nothing to fear? When was the last time you were in the field? When was the last time someone tried to kill you? There's plenty to fear--and not just from Novas. We've got plenty to be scared of too.
Suit#1: Ah, that's right, you ran in to a little trouble during the Piper incident the other day, didn't you?
Blackmore: I'd rather not talk about that.
LabCoat#1: John, I know that it makes you uncomfortable to lose control like you did. But it wasn't your faut. We've discovered that there are some very powerful Novas out there that can manipulate all but the most fortified minds.
Blackmore: [Laughs] You think that's what it is? That I'm upset that someone got into my head and almost made me turn against the rest of the team? Sure, that's a bit disconcerting, but I'll get over that. It's just one of the challenges of this brave new world, man. Something else to keep an eye out for next time.
LabCoat#1: So what is it that you don't want to talk about?
Blackmore: I don't know, man. Maybe it's the fact that something that big and nasty was going on in my city and I didn't know about it. Maybe it's that while good guys like The Fireman are out there in the spotlight, there's still people--normal people and Novas--who are still dying in the streets. Just like always. With all this power we have, why can't we stop that?
Suit#1: Yes, all this power... that's something else we need to discuss, Mr. Blackmore. Our records indicate you have been making judicious use of the traning facilities here.
Blackmore: Yeah. What's it to you? I know this is a members only club, but I'm a member, right?
LabCoat#1: Yes... but your training has been unsupervised and that is highly unrecommended. Based on a review of the last session you ran...
Blackmore: You have a recording of my training sessions?
Suit#1: Of course we do. You signed a waiver when you joined our little family. It was clearly stated in there that these premises were under full srveillance 24/7. [He turns to the man in the lab coat.] Show him.
[The paused picture of Blackmore ducking news crews fades from the screen and is replaced by a high angle shot of a Project Utopia training room. There are various doorways, walls and walkways, creating almost a maze. Panels along the wall open to release training drones, both ground based and airborne.]
[Blackmore begins walking through the room. He is immediately attacked by four drones, two humanoid and two airborne. He makes short work of them, reducing them to smoking junk with little more than one quick jab each.]
[Another swarm attacks. Half of them are immediately thrown across the room with just a jesture from Blackmore. The others strike, but do little more than slightly slow him down. The screen goes black for a moment before the picture returns in black and white as the training room lights go out and the camera switches to IR illumination. Blackmore doesn't miss a beat. The second swarm ends up as slag.]
[Instead of more drones, the next wave are low-level, but well trained, Novas. Six of them. Two of them never even have a chance to lay a hand on Blackmore before they find themselves on the ground, held there by an invisible force. The other four attack and are alternately dodged and thrown with a combination of Aikido and telekenetic parries.]
[Within minutes, Blackmore has reached the opposite end of the room, ending the training exercise. He isn't even breathing heavy. His sunglasses aren't even crooked.]
Blackmore: [Smiling] Yeah. I should have turned the difficulty up a bit. Maybe gotten an Elite in there. But there weren't any on the schedule at that hour.
Suit#1: Mr. Blackmore, have you been taking the Adrenacillin we prescribed? You do realize that you run a serious risk--to yourself and others--if you use your powers too much in such a reckless fashion.
LabCoat#1: That's not to say, John, that your progress hasn't been impressive.
Blackmore: [Looks back and forth between the two men] Y'know what, man? I don't have to put up with this crap. I came here voluntarily. It's been fun and all, but, I think it's time for me to go. [He stands up and begins to head for the door.]
Suit#1: Mr. Blackmore, you can't just leave like that. [He gets up and reaches for Blackmore's arm. Before he has a chance to grab hold, he's violently pushed back into his chair.]
Blackmore: Really? You going to stop me? [Neither of the other men answer or make a move.] That's what I thought. You'll get my official membership cancellation tomorrow. I'm outta here.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
Disillusionment (A Reconstructed Scene from the Life of John Blackmore)
12 April, 2008
John sat with Rese watching the coverage of Tracer's funeral on the big screen TV.
"Man, can you believe that shit?" Rese asked. "Look at all those people. This is some wild turn in history, right? A high-profile Nova like her getting ganked... what's this world coming to?"
John tipped back his Corona, waited for the last drop to slide past the lime, and set the bottle heavily on the end table. "I don't know man. I just don't know."
"But you knew her, right? She was one of the Hestia people you did that trip to Bhutan with, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah she was."
"Well why aren't you down there in DC payin' your respects?"
John turnd to his old friend, his milky glowing eyes unable to register the confusion and sadness he felt and opened his mouth to say something.
That's when all hell broke loose on the TV.
As Caestus Pax brings the crows back under control, the news anchors lasiviously barking commentary over replays of the violence everyone had just seen moments before, John turns to Rese and says, "Because of crap like that, man. Because of crap like that."
Then he goes to get another beer, opening it without touching the cap.
After a long draught, he leans back in the chair and rubs his eyes. "Rese, why is it we do things like that? I mean, ain't it enough that a good person's dead? Why do we have to make it into such a spectacle. The other Novas aren't much better than everyone else when it comes to that.
"I look at so many of them, with their fancy powers and flashy costumes. Y'know what the most prevalent Nova power seems to be, man? Ego. So many of them have egos bigger than any deed they do. The XWF dudes, I can understand that. They're entertainers, that's part of the business. But people like Pax, like bunches of the Team Tomorrow members--and even some of the Hestia operatives I've dealt with... they're look like they're in this for the wrong reasons. They're in it to show off, to show how great they are, how much better they are.
"But they're not any better. Not as people. Sure, some are... Tracer was... some want to actually help for the sake of helping. But they're overshadowed by the big egos. Christ, don't we ever learn? Don't we know that it's going to be some big ego maniac that's going to destroy this whole thing..."
"What whole thing, man?"
John waved his arms around, his agitated energy making glasses rattle in the kitchen and the pictures quiver a little on the walls. "This! Everything! We're going to destroy it all and... and... we're going to think what we're doing is for the best. It's just... I... I don't know."
Both men were quiet for a long while.
After another hour of watching funeral coverage and retrospective clips, John got up, grabbed his jacket and put on his sunglasses. "I'm going out for a walk. I'll see you later."
And with that, he walked out into the night.
John sat with Rese watching the coverage of Tracer's funeral on the big screen TV.
"Man, can you believe that shit?" Rese asked. "Look at all those people. This is some wild turn in history, right? A high-profile Nova like her getting ganked... what's this world coming to?"
John tipped back his Corona, waited for the last drop to slide past the lime, and set the bottle heavily on the end table. "I don't know man. I just don't know."
"But you knew her, right? She was one of the Hestia people you did that trip to Bhutan with, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah she was."
"Well why aren't you down there in DC payin' your respects?"
John turnd to his old friend, his milky glowing eyes unable to register the confusion and sadness he felt and opened his mouth to say something.
That's when all hell broke loose on the TV.
As Caestus Pax brings the crows back under control, the news anchors lasiviously barking commentary over replays of the violence everyone had just seen moments before, John turns to Rese and says, "Because of crap like that, man. Because of crap like that."
Then he goes to get another beer, opening it without touching the cap.
After a long draught, he leans back in the chair and rubs his eyes. "Rese, why is it we do things like that? I mean, ain't it enough that a good person's dead? Why do we have to make it into such a spectacle. The other Novas aren't much better than everyone else when it comes to that.
"I look at so many of them, with their fancy powers and flashy costumes. Y'know what the most prevalent Nova power seems to be, man? Ego. So many of them have egos bigger than any deed they do. The XWF dudes, I can understand that. They're entertainers, that's part of the business. But people like Pax, like bunches of the Team Tomorrow members--and even some of the Hestia operatives I've dealt with... they're look like they're in this for the wrong reasons. They're in it to show off, to show how great they are, how much better they are.
"But they're not any better. Not as people. Sure, some are... Tracer was... some want to actually help for the sake of helping. But they're overshadowed by the big egos. Christ, don't we ever learn? Don't we know that it's going to be some big ego maniac that's going to destroy this whole thing..."
"What whole thing, man?"
John waved his arms around, his agitated energy making glasses rattle in the kitchen and the pictures quiver a little on the walls. "This! Everything! We're going to destroy it all and... and... we're going to think what we're doing is for the best. It's just... I... I don't know."
Both men were quiet for a long while.
After another hour of watching funeral coverage and retrospective clips, John got up, grabbed his jacket and put on his sunglasses. "I'm going out for a walk. I'll see you later."
And with that, he walked out into the night.
From the Personal Journal of John Blackmore - January 30, 2008
I can now say that I've been around the world and there ain't nowhere like good old New York.
Signing on with Hestia wasn't something I would have ever done--just like I never would've joind the Peace Corps--if it weren't for my extenuating circumstances. It wasn't all bad, but it's not something I'd like to do on a regular basis. That sort of high-powered international intrigue isn't at all what I'm interested in.
Some good people in Hestia, though. That's reassuring with all the other stuff that goes on in the world.
Best thing is, even with the travel getting in the way of what passes for my normal life, the gig paid pretty well.
So well that I think I'm set for a while... and so is Rese.
But those plans are still kind of in the works.
For now, I'm just going to go and enjoy some free time, maybe go a couple rounds in the training center with someone who's actually a challenge. None of the dudes at the Y stand a chance these days.
Signing on with Hestia wasn't something I would have ever done--just like I never would've joind the Peace Corps--if it weren't for my extenuating circumstances. It wasn't all bad, but it's not something I'd like to do on a regular basis. That sort of high-powered international intrigue isn't at all what I'm interested in.
Some good people in Hestia, though. That's reassuring with all the other stuff that goes on in the world.
Best thing is, even with the travel getting in the way of what passes for my normal life, the gig paid pretty well.
So well that I think I'm set for a while... and so is Rese.
But those plans are still kind of in the works.
For now, I'm just going to go and enjoy some free time, maybe go a couple rounds in the training center with someone who's actually a challenge. None of the dudes at the Y stand a chance these days.
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