Order And Chaos: A Superpower RP (Started, Closed)

[Fury Is Me.]

"Marcus!" Shouted Lina, hurrying to her companion's aid as he was being smothered by the very large tendril. This would have to be fast. Twisting around to face Morph again, she took of at a dead sprint with her weapon. She ran her way behind Morph and raised her sword high above her head, the flow of battle leading her movements. She hacked and hacked repeatedly at the tendril that ended at the large mass that was about to smother Marcus with great speed, burning through with every cut. She was going to chop this thing to bits if it took all night and every single swing brought from her an angry grunt, like one of those female tennis players.

 

[Lambi]

This blob wasn't about to give up, it seemed, as it was attempting to smother and, as far as Blizzard thought, devour Faraday. "Oh no you won't! It's enough that you got those people on the streets, you're not going to get him too!" Persephone stepped up to try and cut Faraday loose, but was having some trouble. Lets try and help with that...

She began to shoot icicles at the blob and the part of it that held Faraday. Hopefully this would work, because otherwise, they'd be one man down and a blob who not only would devour people, but would be able to control electricity like Faraday did, and that was not something Blizzard was about to let happen. She kept at it with her icicles, not stopping until Faraday would be free. "Hang in there!" she called to him. "We will get you free!"

 

[Arcanist]

Between Lina and Blizzard, even the blob couldn't keep its grip - in no time, the tendril was severed cleanly in two. Marcus took this opportunity to scramble to his feet, still covered in an ooze roughly the consistency of motor oil. It reeked of blood and burnt rubber.

The trauma of their assault seemed to finally be taking its toll, however slight. As the tendril came loose, the monster let off what Marcus assumed to be a growl. Whether of pain or annoyance, he couldn't tell. 'If it's hurt, we should take this opportunity to put it down for good.' Rushing behind Lina, he touched his hand to the power main and readied himself for another draw.

 

[Captainguy42]

The bolt of ecto-plasm sizzled past Red Coyote's head a slammed into the gurney. It burned a gaping hole through the blanket and into the pile of medicine. Shit! What in the hell was that? "B.O.B. trace the shot." He commanded, did his best to limit the damage. Meanwhile, his Battle Observation Bot program examined the video feeds from the SPD's and found the trajectory of the shot. It alerted Red Coyote to the origin of the shot. Doesn't seem to be anyone there. But that wouldn't be the first trick of the light today. {/i} He switched his Glock to full auto. Dis-engaged the taxi hologram, aimed at origin of the ecto-blast, and sprayed. In less than a second his magazine was empty. He took the brief moment of confusion to get off the road an into an alley-way. He checked his computer, the rest of the SPD's would be here in three minutes. Stall for three minutes then I should have enough SPD's to brute force an escape. He took cover behind a dumpster and holstered his Glock, retrieving the G3 that he had strapped to his back. He steeled his nerves for what would come next, but first he had to buy as many seconds as he could.

"So tell me, what are you going to do to me if you catch me?" He asked, attempting to gauge or at least locate his adversary, he had no idea if his last barrage if did anything, but he knew others would be coming soon.

 

[Terratina.]

Despite the concentration of Morph's effort on trapping the electric man, his team-mates managing to cut him loss and it was looking like Morph should be thinking of cutting its losses right about now as one of its many tendrils was cut off. Morph, not able to keep the pain inside any longer, let loose a haunting howl. The man slumped away from the wall to the wires with gritted teeth and looked at the power main with vigour. This man was out to get Morph and Morph wouldn't have that.

If the man wanted Morph, he would have Morph, and so would the others. It would enjoy this little challenge. Stretching itself into a long coil of flesh, Morph twisted itself around the the Seraphim bloodhound in reach, namely the electric man and the swordswoman, constricting them like a python. They would suffer, then if luck would have it, their windpipe would break and with one final twist, so would all those arteries in his neck. Time to finish this.

 

[socialtangent]

Cars screeched to a halt and pedestrians fled as the weapon's report rolled through the city blocks. Kurt started to move when he saw the gun, but still ended taking several rounds in the chest. His kevlar vest caught them, but the impacts were enough to knock the wind out of him and cause him to stumble backwards. The masked man took off into an alleyway as Kurt regained his balance. Although a bit shaken, he gave chase. This man was a clear threat to public safety that had to be neutralized as soon as possible.

"So tell me, what are you going to do to me if you catch me?"

The voice came from the alley. From what it sounded like he was taking a stationary position. And likely armed. Kurt engaged his cloak and peeked around the corner. Just as he thought, the man was taking position behind a dumpster, behind the sights of an assault rifle. The kevlar vest worked fine against smaller rounds, but that rifle would tear Kurt to shreds. Getting rid of that gun was top priority.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt channeled ectoplasmic energy into his hands. Had he not been cloaked, they would have been glowing an extremly vibrant purple. He could feel his hands getting warmer as more energy found itself gathering into his palms. Using this much energy at once was a good way to fatigue himself, but he had to hit hard enough to stagger the man and disarm him.

Let's go.

Kurt swung around the corner, unleashing the twin bursts of energy as he charged forward. The dumpster took the hit from one of the blasts, the kinetic energy denting the metal and scorching the green paint around it. The second hit the criminal square in the chest, which forced him back and threw his arms out. Seeing the opportunity, Kurt dropped his cloak and hit the man in a running tackle that knocked the rifle out of his hands. He shoved his opponent away so he had enough space to throw a left hook at him.

 

[Captainguy42]

The criminal was knocked flat against the wall by the first ecto-blast. The right shoulder of his coat caught on fire, as he tried to pull the sleeve off Kurt tackled and disarmed him. Spectre pushed him back before the fire could burn him and as he lined up his punch, but the criminal laughed. He drove the pointed snout of his helmet into Kurt's fist, and then crouched. Before unsheathing his knife and diving upward at Spectre, he slipped the blade in just under his vest. As Spectre crumpled, the criminal did not miss a beat as he stabbed him two more times before leaving the knife in the wound.

"So I guess that was a rhetorical question. Well then, keep the knife, it's dirty now. Also," He reached in his pocket and retrieved a cheap, pre-paid cell-phone. He typed in "911" and handed it two Kurt, "I dare you to dial them! By the way I'm Red Coyote, I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, frankly my manners are abysmal now a days."

Then the dark corners of the alley seemed to spread, grow, and meld together. The darkness flowed over Red and what remained of the gurney. The it receded, and Red Coyote was gone.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The back-up SPD's had arrived, and after orchestrating his grand exit he handed the gurney off to two of them. With their claws they grabbed the frame and took it off into the sky, disguised as an errant cloud. Meanwhile Red continued to run through New York city, using the SPD's to remain hidden. Finally he approached the water-front. Stole a boat, and sailed back to his lair.

 

[CounterAttack]

The thief was fast, for a change. He'd gotten himself into a building and had begun to take the stairs up. Mark was still on his tail, not bothering to waste breath on yelling at him. Within ten minutes the hunter and the hunted were on the building's roof. The thief was starting to tire: Mark was not. He was in his element.

[hr]

Two figures on a roof nearby, one running towards the building's edge, the other emerging from the roof access doorway. Justicar noted that one of the two was dressed in black, just as the woman on the phone had described. She dropped a little in altitude to get a closer look.

[hr]

The thief was at the edge of the roof now, looking towards the building opposite. It was lower. He could make the jump. Maybe.

Mark stopped short a few metres from the guy. Now was the time to speak. "Don't do it, bud. You'll break something. Just give me that purse, and then I'm turning you in. No-one has to get hurt."

The thief didn't move for a short while... and then he jumped. Mark shook his head almost immediately. Without a run-up, there was no extra forward momentum to get you across. The guy was lucky: he landed almost exactly on the edge, executing a badly done roll away from the edge as soon as he landed. He'd hurt himself, though. When he got to his feet, he winced visibly and began limping away, favouring one leg.

Mark backed up a short way. He wasn't getting away any time soon. Taking a deep breath, he made his approach run, building up speed as he moved. One foot on the lip of the building, pushed off without a hitch. An almost perfect landing. He ended up rolling a different way than normal, but was back on his feet in no time.

[hr]

Fascinating. Seems people have no qualms about jumping from building to building these days. Justicar was watching intently, soaring above the scene. She would intervene if the thief got away.

[hr]

Now, Talsper. Almost immediately Mark's right hand began to glow a bright gold. The thief, amazed that his pursuer had followed him across the gap, performed a double-take at the sight of the glowing hand and the change in Mark's posture. He had drawn up to his full height, giving the thief an imperious look with his now golden eyes. Talsper was in control.

"Desist in thine efforts to flee, vagabond, or I shalt personally ensure that thou dost yield," Talsper ordered, raising his hands in preparation of a spell.

"The fuck did you call me?"

"Didst thou not hear me?"

"Y'know what? No. You back the fuck up, right now." The guy pulled a pistol from inside his hoodie. Talsper immediately performed a swift flick and released a red wave of heat from one hand. Caught in the surprise attack, the thief's gun-hand was burned. A snarl of pain and the clatter of metal on the roof was the result. Talsper closed the distance between himself and the thief, drawing on the Aura within his ring to conjure twin orbs of flame.

"I shalt reiterate. Desist and yield, or suffer further."

Cowed, the thief tossed the stolen purse on the ground and began nursing his burned hand. "Ahh... God, that hurts. We good? Can I go?"

"No. You can't." A woman's voice interjected, coming from Talsper's right. Justicar landed lightly on the building's roof and strode towards the two. "Agent Justicar of Seraphim. You're under arrest on charges of theft, bucko. I'm handing you over to the police."

Talsper smirked at the thief's reaction: his face had fallen at the sight of the winged woman. Justicar shot a glance at him as she pulled out a cellphone. "You seem capable enough. I'll speak with you later. For now, watch him," she ordered as she stepped away to make a call.

That thing with the gun was too close for comfort, Mark commented. We haven't had to deal with weapons all that much.

 

[Lambi]

She might not have been able to freeze the tendril that broke off, but Blizzard was quick to draw her laser gun and shoot with it at the tendril, vaporizing it into nothing like she'd done before with the frozen clump. However, now they had another problem as the blob began to coil around Faraday and Persephone like some kind of snake. Why it didn't include her, she did not know. But she had to get them free.

What could she do, though? The blob was resisting her ice attacks, which was the only way she could deal damage. She could always shoot more icicles, but that left the possibility that she'd shoot her own teammates, and she wouldn't have that happen. What were her options?

Hmmm, she thought. Perhaps if she were to splash water on it... but she'd frozen it earlier, and even if she hadn't, Faraday ran a risk of losing control over his electric powers if he got wet. And her laser gun only worked on smaller parts...

She'd have to do what she could do, though. She focused her powers on the humidity inside the sewer to compress it into a shape near her. She held her hands in a ready position to grab whatever she shaped the ice into. A weapon formed, and she was holding a claymore of ice. Thick enough not to break immediately, but not too heavy for her since she wasn't as strong as Persephone. She charged at the blob with the claymore raised, intending on cutting them loose.

 

[socialtangent]

The first thing Kurt noticed was a sudden spike of pain that shot up his wrist as the punch connected with the criminal's helmet. It caught him off guard just long enough for the man to duck underneath him strike him in the stomach. The blow knocked the air out of his lungs and caused him to double over with a stifled groan. Somewhere between the second and third strikes, Kurt realized that he was being stabbed. The adrenaline rush suppressed the pain just long enough for him to stand up straight before stumbling forward and collapsing to the ground. Blood flowed freely from his wounds, quickly staining his shirt a dark red.

"So I guess that was a rhetorical question. Well then, keep the knife, it's dirty now," the man said as he dropped something on the ground next to Kurt. It was a cell phone, with the numbers

911

already entered on the screen. "I dare you to dial them!" he taunted with an air of cockiness. "By the way I'm Red Coyote, I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, frankly my manners are abysmal now a days." And with that, Red Coyote took off into the alleyway, disappearing into the shadows.

Kurt tried to get back up, but the pain was just too much. He collapsed again and watched as his target disappeared with a mix of anger and helplessness. A sharp, jabbing sensation in his gut reminded him that Coyote's knife was still stuck in him. As much as he wanted to remove it, he knew very well that taking it out would cause even more problems. Fighting the pain, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The device was stained with blood.

"I'm down..." Kurt said between grit teeth. "Suspect got away...I need help!"

 

[Captainguy42]

The New York City shoreline was now a sliver on the horizon behind him. Red Coyote estimated he was a little less than half-way, and well out sight. So he took the opportunity to turn off the engine and perform some first-aid much needed first aid. The plasma blast left a wicked scorched mark across his chest and right shoulder. His trench-coat it and the flak jacket off he started to get a better view of the damage. A bruise was developing across his chest. Even through the layers of clothes and kevlar the sheer heat of the blast stinging left first degree burns across his chest. If I hadn't been wearing my flak-jacket that hit would've floor me, not sure I would've been able to get back up. He reached into his utility belt and removed a compact first-aid kit. Inside he kept medical-glue, painkillers, Neosporin, and bandages. He popped a painkiller into his mouth and then got to work spreading Neosporin over his burns. When he finished he put his shirt back on, restarted the engine and headed towards his lair. As he got on his way he considered the wounds he had left that hero with. He doubted they would be fatal, gut wounds rarely kill instantly, and he knew for a fact Seraphim spared no expense on its agents healthcare. Which is good, because the last thing I need is a Hero chasing my ass to the end of the Earth because I killed partner.

 

[Terratina.]

Morph just watched more of itself be vapourised away. And with that, it was the breaking point, Seraphim had made a mockery of Morph, so Morph would make a mockery of them. Anger flooded its brain, breaking the cool edge of a pouncing predator. The edge that Morph had relied upon, had counted as an advantage against its prey - a kill in cold blood was swift and efficient, the opposite would be messy and wasteful. Well, bugger that. This fight had turned into one that was more about survival than anything else, to Morph, it was either winning and succeeding or death, whether it would be just vapourised by the ice lady as the frozen tendril was, or stuck in the Seraphim labs somewhere, being tested to death. Well, Morph did not want to end up in that situation again. Its creator's actions were at the brink of tolerable, but an entire Seraphim science team? That would be unbearable.

The ice lady was charging up to it with some sort of giant sword, she had even be a threat now, now that she had stopped staring in disbelief at the decreased effectiveness of her powers. They were almost rendered redundant with little change Morph had made to its cellular structure. Time to do that again. At least Morph had something to toy around with other than being shocked by a human conduit of electricity. But then again, such things could be copied to an extent, but that brought no real benefit, not here, not now. As she approached, Morph coiled round and round, tighter and tighter, as a carapace grew and rendered the frontal half of Morph's body stiffer and stiffer. It produced a sound rather like a chuckle, as Morph form it amusing that most of its current arsenal came from marine creatures. Maybe it should give domination over the oceans a shot?

All musing aside, whatever happened now, there were at least two possibles: the thick carapace would withstand the blow, or that the overzealous charge would strike through and hit her companions as well. After all, that sword was probably bigger than Morph itself.

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

"Gath." Arlana spat, then focused on the shift, the stone crawling across her body, wings ripping out of her back. Shetapped her earpiece. "Spectre, I'm on my way. Just hold on." The Gargoyle took a running start and leapt into the air, her wings filling and catching a thermal drifting out of a sewer grate, propelling her high into the air. "Control, I need directions to Spectre."

The person on the other end quickly rattled out directions to her. She tucked her wings and dove low, skimming only a few feet over street level, cars screeching to a halt at her approach and in her wake. It wasn't important, they'd be alright. Kurt, on the other hand, couldn't wait. She twisted in flight and beat her wings, sending her to the side, down an alleyway. Just ahead she could see Kurt, and she filled her wings with air, slowing her and dropping her to the pavement. She ran the rest of the distance to his side.

"Where's that medevac? I'll meet them on the way." She said into her earpiece, then turned her attention to Kurt. "Hang in there. And grab on and hold tight."

 

[Lambi]

Striking the blob, the claymore didn't cut through. As Blizzard should have expected, but she didn't want to just leave her companions behind. However, she knew that this was too much for then. She picked up her cell and contacted Seraphim. "Seraphim HQ! I need immediate backup! We have a murderous blob who's holding my teammates tightly and I can barely hurt it! We're in the nearby sewer!" She got a response for the backup, and was told to hold on somehow. She put the cell down and couldn't do anything but wait. In the meanwhile, the blob kept squeezing Persephone and Faraday, intending on watching them suffer before devouring them.

However, it couldn't do that for long before it was hit with liquid nitrogen from the backup from Seraphim, making parts of it freeze faster than Blizzard's ice powers could. Even with the AFP, it managed to freeze. A howl was let out as it let go of Persephone and Faraday, who got away from the blob. Slowly being frozen, the blob tried to escape while parts of it fell off and gave off howls of pain because of the extreme cold. Blizzard was quick to shoot the parts with her laser gun to evaporate the parts to they wouldn't be able to rejoin with the blob.

The blob was now much smaller than it had been when Blizzard, Faraday and Persephone encountered it first. Still being shot with liquid nitrogen, it kept attempting escape while looking for holes or anything to escape into away from these Seraphim agents. It did see a convenient hole and crawled into it, getting far away from the liquid nitrogen. Blizzard cursed that it got away, but was glad that Faraday and Persephone were alright. All three of them headed back towards Seraphim along with the backup Blizzard had called for.

[hr]

Seraphim's medical staff that had been called for met up with Arlana and Kurt and brought him into the ambulance they'd come on. They all headed back to Seraphim HQ, with Waldemar not far behind in the car that had brought him and Kurt there. Once there, Kurt was brought to the medical floor of Seraphim where he would need to be taken care of until he'd fully recovered.

[hr]

Both teams, excluding Kurt for obvious reason, reported to Christopher to brief him on their respective missions. While neither team had succeeded in capturing the villains in question, they had all come back alive, and that was what mattered the most. All of them would get paid soon enough, however they wanted to be paid, and were allowed to roam around the Seraphim building or wherever else they wanted to go so long as they had their cell on them. They were all dismissed from Christopher's office, who sat down behind his desk and pondered what to do regarding both villains. They would attempt again, no doubt. And that time, he'd be prepared.

 

[CounterAttack]

The Seraphim woman, Justicar, had quickly carried off the injured thief and turned him over to police custody, while Mark regained control over his body and returned the purse to its rightful owner. Ordinarily he refused any form of recompense - he was just trying to help - but the would-be victim had insisted on giving him a small amount of cash. Mark hated it when people gave him money for helping them. Made him feel like he was the one doing the robbing.

Be it a crime should they desireth to compensate thee for thine efforts? Talsper queried.

Well, no, but... that's the third time this month. Someone steals from someone else, we help them, the victim gives us something. I still have that girl's number from two weeks ago, his companion replied, a little irritated by the 'gift' of charity. I should stick that note in the bin when we get home.

Ah, yes... the maiden named Rina. Why didst thou not contact her as she hath instructed?

Because I have no intention of willingly visiting someone who dresses like that, Mark shot back as he turned and began to walk home. And with that kind of attitude to giving strangers her number, she's certainly no 'maiden'.

Thou dost make a fair point about her sense of apparel. She could pass for a courtesan - Talsper cut himself off as the flapping of large wings could be heard by both the traceur and the magician. Justicar landed in the street, folded her wings and casually walked up to Mark, ignoring the gasps of appreciation and clicks of phone cameras.

"That was an interesting display you pulled off back there," she began. "Chased a man to the rooftops, leapt a gap between two buildings without taking a scratch, and then... I don't know what you did to burn his hand, but it's clearly not something that most people have freely available. Ever think about a career with Seraphim? We're always looking for new talent. You may want to consider it."

Mark raised his eyebrows at the proposition. That was certainly something new. Seraphim was a prominent organisation in the media; there had been a string of advertisements recently, and Justicar's suggestion backed them up. "Hmm... suppose I were interested. What then?" he asked.

"If you want I can call ahead and book an interview time for you," Justicar suggested.

Mark quickly shot that idea down. "Ah, that won't be necessary. I'll need to confer with my friend who assisted in taking down that thief. We'll call Seraphim ourselves." He neglected to indicate Talsper's ring, though: it was highly unlikely that the existence of the extraplanar being would be believed.

"Suit yourself. I'll still fast-track you to a high priority on our list of applicants. I'll need your name, number and address to do so." After Mark gave his contact information to the Seraphim agent, Justicar took a run-up and leapt into the air without a backward look, leaving the traceur to his own devices... and at the mercy of the public in the area. They promptly swarmed him asking questions about his connection to the organisation of heroes.

It took Mark a good ten minutes to extricate himself from the crowd that surrounded him, and he promptly departed into an alley, jumped a low wall and found himself on the other side of the city block.

So... are we to join this band of superheroes that we have seen in the newsreel? Talsper asked on the way home.

Newspaper, and... well, I don't know. I'll have to think it over, hit up their website, draft a CV... and what the heck am I going to say to explain you? Having a friend from another plane of reality tended to complicate matters.

Mayhap the ensuing conversation shalt make things clearer to Seraphim. They hath likely seen much that not even I know of.

Mark stifled a laugh at that comment. He figured that after over six hundred years of life, it was likely that you had seen everything.

 

[Arcanist]

Marcus left Adelbert's office with a pronounced frown on his face. He'd let his enemy humiliate him and escape twice in three days - this time, in front of the people he was supposed to work with.

'Some hero I am. I can't even keep myself safe in those skirmishes. If Blizzard's backup hadn't arrived so quickly...' He shuddered to think of what that blob had in mind. It had devoured an entire street's worth of people with next to no effort - he wasn't terribly keen to find out what their final moments had been like. He flexed his hand, watching as the sparks flew from his fingers. 'For all my raw power, I can't stand up to an enemy that could just beat my skull in.'

He pounded his fist into the wall outside his apartment, his expression contorting to a mixture of frustration and desperation. 'I'll I've ever wanted was to help people. And I can't even do that anymore. Am I just... not cut out to be a hero?'

His demeanor somber, he staggered into his room. At least he had a decent place to sleep...

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

Arlana felt no shame for the failure. They had failed to apprehend their enemy, yes, but against a new enemy with unknown abilities the intelligence they had gathered was worth it. No civilians had been harmed or anything more than shaken up. It was not a victory, true, but it wasn't really a defeat either. Next time would be different.

After a short stop at the Research and Development branch of Seraphim - checking on prior requests for a spear capable of surviving her wielding it and armor that she could wear in both forms - she headed for the Medical Wing, to assuage the only thing troubling her, Spectre's injury.

She walked through, now shifted back into her Human form, her red hair tied back in a ponytail and clad in jeans and a t-shirt with a denim jacket thrown over it. Barefoot though, oddly enough. It didn't take long to find where Spectre was being held.

"You're Spectre, right? I didn't get an opportunity to introduce myself. Arlana Dehannsen." She didn't offer to shake, instead just bowing her head respectfully. "How're you feeling?"

 

[Pm0n3y]

In the three short hours that spanned Justin's time in class, he managed to customize the Seraphim smartphone to his preferences, one of more noticeable features being the music that blared from a pair of headphones connected to the device. Music, in which, the boy had no qualms with reciting as he stepped through the self-sliding doors of Seraphim Tower.

"I left my girl back hoooooome...I don't love her no mooore..." He sung loudly as he traversed through the empty lobby of the building, his undulating vocal tones echoing through the dim halls. Stepping towards one of the executive elevators, he continue to sing as he waited for the mode of transport to open. "And she'll never fuckin' know thaaat...these fuckin' eyes that i'm staring aaat~..." Soon, another set of doors opened before Justin, and soon he was elevated to the Residence floor.

"Bring your love baby, I can bring my shaame. Bring the drugs baby, I can bring my pain-Huh?" Justin's crooning was interrupted as he stepped off the elevator. His smaller phone was vibrating, a picture of Joesph Case appearing on the screen. Pausing the music, Justin removed the headphones from his ears and addressed his father.

"Hey dad...yeah, class ended not too long ago, i'm at the Seraphim building now...I actually got hired earlier today, and they actually have housing arrangements here, i'm actually walking to my apartment as we speak...yeah, I was thinking of chilling here, at least for the night..." He replied, traveling down the long corridor of the residency block before stopping at his door. Across the hall, a relatively downtrodden man slowly approached his own door. Justin payed little-to-no attention to the man, too engaged in his own conversation to give his fellow employee the time of day.

 

[socialtangent]

Seraphim had amazing medical care, Kurt quickly learned. The moment he arrived back at headquarters, he was rushed into the infirmary and stitched up. He was knocked out for the procedure, but a nurse informed him later that it had taken less than 45 minutes. It was as if he never went under at all; the drowsiness induced by the anesthetic had worn off only minutes after he woke up.

The room he was wheeled into now looked like something out of a science fiction movie. He was hooked up to fancy gadgets and monitors that looked at least a decade ahead of their time. While he couldn't even begin to guess what they did, he couldn't argue with the results. The painkiller being pumped into his veins subdued the burning pain in his gut to a mildly uncomfortable warmness.

Yet, as he lay in the hospital bed, Kurt couldn't help but feel guilty. The only reason he had this kind of care was because he was working for Seraphim. Had he been an ordinary guy off the street, he would be looking at several weeks, maybe months, of recovery. The current prognosis gave him a few days, tops, before he was back to full strength. The approach of a woman pulled him from his guilt. He didn't quite recognize her. Pale skin, with green eyes and red hair. She didn't seem to be a doctor, judging from her outfit.

"You're Spectre, right? I didn't get an opportunity to introduce myself. Arlana Dehannsen."

Kurt's eyes widened somewhat. Arlana? As in, the giant freaky statue Arlana?

"How're you feeling?"

"Uh..." Kurt was caught somewhat off-guard. "As good as I can be right now. Don't know what they did, but it's working. Oh, and thanks, by the way. The name's Kurt, since we're all friends here." He paused, trying to phrase his next sentence carefully. "So what's up with the statue thing?" He asked uncertainly. "I mean...which Arlana is the actual Arlana, if you don't mind my asking..."

 

[PrinceOfShapeir]

Arlana nodded at his words. Most people seemed to be a bit surprised by her nature, and she doubted telling him the whole story would make him any less surprised. "Very well, Kurt, then. Arlana is my true name. Among Humans, I use the name of Alison Haven, a compound of two names of Humans I met shortly after my arrival on this world five years ago." She paused for a moment. "As for the 'statue thing', that is my true form."

She paused for a moment, forming her thoughts together in a sentence that would make sense. "I come from a world much unlike this one, a world called Faerie. My people are...or were, warriors and knights in service to the masters of that world. We are known as Gargoyles."

When explaining her true nature to someone, this was usually the part greeted with someone spitting whatever they were drinking all over the nearest wall. It was a curious part of Human nature that certain shocks or surprises could result in that.