Legends Never Die Chapter Six
Added 2022-07-03 21:31:23 +0000 UTCVote Tally : [NSFW] - Legends Never Die (They Become a Part of You) {Worm and League of Legends Quest} | Page 3 | Questionable Questing [Posts: 88-103]
##### NetTally 3.1.4
[X] the song-spells of Seraphine rang true, before you
[X] decided to go on the offensive! (90% chance)
No. of Votes: 8
[X] Radek
[X] Ferretfiend15
[X] IahIahShipping
[X] JaqkGreen
[X] Oddboy
[X] PlasticSoldier
[X] thewhiteraven22
[X] the frozen power of Nunu and Willump answered, before you
[X] decided to go on the offensive! (60% chance)
No. of Votes: 3
[X] SilverEagle2121
[X] ThePokeManik
[X] the dream-weaving magic of Lillia headed your call, before you
[X] go on the offensive
No. of Votes: 1
[x] Zernoc56
[X] the song-spells of Seraphine rang true, before you
-[X] decided to try for intimidation!
No. of Votes: 1
[x] silentorphan
Total No. of Voters: 13
Roll Results!
[dice]36404[/dice]
Well, the success here isn’t much of a surprise, is it? I mean, given what you had to roll to succeed…
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Legends Never Die (They Become A Part of You)
Chapter Six
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The song-spells of Seraphine ring true, a resounding resonance deep within your mind, and you feel her power flow into you. Light blazes around you, the thugs and your friends shielding their eyes instinctively. When it faded, they gaped at the changes wrought in that instant of brilliance.
You were different, you instinctively knew, more than you had been before. Your hair, never short nor unkept but generally entirely unstyled, was now in an elegant high ponytail that fell in graceful waves nearly to your knees. It was colored, too, a bright pink that progressively darkened almost to violet the further down the strands one went. Simple, comfortable pants rolled up to the knee, high-heeled ankle boots, a cute, shoulder-showing top decorated with vines and flowers, and a light jacket tied around your waist. In other words, the kind of pretty, popular, non-nerdy girl you had always dreamed of being, but never quite had the necessary level of extroversion required to be.
Of course, there was also the fact that you were now standing on a floating platform shaped like a heart, with three enormous speakers on the frontal arc that were not-so-subtly inspired by acoustic guitars. A floating platform that was hovering at least a foot and a half off of the ground.
You took a moment, after the obligatory ‘I’m hot now!’, to look around yourself. Thanks to Seraphine, you could see the music in all of their souls. Cassie was a seething mass of Red, Grey, and Blue, though unsurprisingly the red glow of anger was the most prominent emotion she was feeling, though the endless pool of sorrowful blue that was at her core was so deep you wanted to cry. Sabah, for her part, was an ivory statue, calm and collected and waiting for an opportunity to call for help. Probably not the first time she had dealt with unpleasant ‘customers’, and probably not the last either.
The thugs, unsurprisingly, were almost uniformly the red, black, and gray of cruel, malicious bigoted anger that you expected them to be.
“You’re not very nice, are you?” You ask mockingly at last, tilting your head to the side and crossing your arms under your somewhat-enhanced but still rather modest bust, noting with amused contempt that several pairs of eyes moved towards it despite the situation.
Everything was silent for a moment more, before the trigger-happy moron (Mark, apparently, not that you really gave a damn at the moment) that had tried to shoot you proved that, if he had any strong suit at all, it consisted entirely of dazzling levels of stupidity.
“Cape!” he screamed, a rather high-pitched and feminine scream at that, and fired his gun several more times.
[dice]36776[/dice]
[dice]36779[/dice]
The shot grazes your arm
[dice]36777[/dice]
3 of the missed shots hit no one, one of them hits someone
[dice]36777[/dice]
1=Sabah, 2=Cassie, 3=Ethan, 4= Random Thug
[dice]36780[/dice]
Cassie is only grazed!
Fear, it seemed, made him a shittier shot, because of the five rounds that he fired only one was remotely close to you, and a quick mental command had your floating stage to the side, just in time for the bullet to graze your arm, leaving a long tear with a seeping cut on your right arm. You opened your mouth to make a sarcastic comment when a bitter oath from Cassie drew your attention. You glanced at her, and your heart stopped for a moment as you saw her holding her side, a slight glaze of red seeping between her fingers.
They had shot Cassie!
The thought dominated your mind, fear closing your throat and dousing your elation at using your power for heroics as you were reminded that two people, helpless and without magical barriers or preternatural reaction speed to protect them, were directly in the line of fire of anyone who tried to attack you.
Seraphine wasn’t durable enough to block gunfire from so many enemies at once, nor was she…bulky enough to provide physical protection while the two of them escaped out a backdoor. Not to mention the fact that the Empire thugs had seen you unmasked and knew you were a cape, which put your dad, your friends, and their families in danger.
So, if your friends couldn’t run, if you couldn’t protect them indefinitely, and these fuckers posed a threat to the people you loved, that only left offense as an option, didn’t it?
Eyes hard, you followed the instinctual guidance flowing from Seraphine to you, focusing on the ability you thought fit the moment best.
[dice]36412[/dice]
K meaning killed, W meaning wounded, and U meaning unconscious.
With a grunt of exertion and an out-thrust hand, a surge of magic was channeled through your stage and projected at your targets. A literal, physical, visible wave of sound crossed the distance between you in an instant, slamming into them with more force that you had expected. The idiot that had shot at the three of you took the brunt of it, flying backwards with sufficient force to shatter the doors on his way through them. The others were luckier, only catching the edges of the attack, which sent them sprawling with varying speeds and reactions.
Turning away from them, you reached out to pull Cassie’s hand away from her wound, intent on making up for your failure by healing it, no matter how minor it might seem. One of your hands went to your wound, the other went to hers, and there was a bright gleam of green light as an emerald mist poured from your hands to sink into the wounds. Parted flesh flowed back together and fused, leaving only the faintest of scars, the sort of scar that would fade away once given enough time.
“I’m sorry, Cassie, Sabah. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been at risk.” You say softly, guiltily, starting to pull away with your work done, but Cassie grabs your wrist and holds you still as Sabah puts her own hand on your shoulder.
“Not your fault those idiots decided that they absolutely had to pick a fight, Taylor. You tried to protect me, stepped between us when they had their guns out instead of trying to run or hide. You…you’re good people, and nothing that has happened today changes that.” The no-longer-wounded blonde assures you, before standing and helping you to your feet as well. Looking over your shoulder as the sounds of sirens begin to reach the edge of your senses, she glances at Sabah. “Do you have anything that she can use to mask up? It’s going to be obvious a cape did this, and neither of us wants anyone knowing who she is.”
“Give me two minutes and her own father won’t recognize her. Whatever her power did with her outfit and her hair will help.” The fashionista responded confidently, squeezing your shoulder briefly before vanishing into the aisles with a swirl of color. A minute later, she reappeared with a small handful of products. Shoving the bulk of them into Cassie’s arms, she started holding up individual masks for your inspection.
There were ten of them, in total, in varying degrees of elaborateness and value (some of them, you could see a month or two of your dad’s salary - at least! - reflected in their gorgeous, exquisitely wrought forms), and you tried to protest. A simple domino mask or a strip of cloth covering your face was plenty, surely, you couldn’t possibly afford this sort of artistry!
“Taylor, shut up and pick a mask, okay? The mask won’t cost you a thing, not after you got shot at, hit even, trying to protect me. Parian won’t complain in the least, I personally guarantee it.” Sabah had barked authoritatively when you spluttered your protests, looking over your shoulder as the sirens grew louder and closer. Blushing in embarrassment and gratitude, you reached out and picked one of the masks. Of the nearly a dozen options before you, you selected the…
[ ] The first mask, an obviously Asian-inspired fox mask with a red starburst on its brow. Might get you into some trouble with the ABB, even if it looked cool…
[ ] The second mask, similar to the first, but with blue themes and a vertical third eye in the place of the starburst…
[ ] The third mask, a black masquerade three-quarters mask with peacock feathers. Simple but beautiful, you supposed…
[ ] The fourth mask, an honestly disturbing white resin shape with black, vein-like carvings within it that might make you look a bit villainous. On the plus side, it would cover your entire face from hair to chin…
[ ] The fifth mask, a venetian masquerade mask that would cover only from the bridge of your nose to the edge of your hairline, with red protrusions on the left hand side…
[ ] The sixth mask, which was distinctly owl-like, with a beak to cover the bridge of your nose and colorful feathers surrounding the eyes…
[ ] The seventh mask, which was frankly ridiculous in both size and the amount of black lace that formed its massive crest. Honestly, the best thing about it was that it was a full-face mask that didn’t make you look like a horror movie villain. Though, you could imagine a dominatrix wearing this…
[ ] The eight, a black and gold plumed mask that was elegant in its simplicity. It wouldn’t cover much more than your eyes, but a domino mask did about the same, and looked far worse…
[ ] The ninth mask, a massive dear-inspired thing that was really more helmet-like than a mere mask could usually be defined. More appropriate for a ren-faire, perhaps, but still…
[ ] The tenth mask, an elegant butterfly-shaped number that was rather darker in color than your hair and might clash, but was beautiful enough you might not care…
before putting it on. With your features sufficiently disguised by mask and power-induced transformation, you watched as Sabah put the others back, Cassie waiting and absent-mindedly rubbing her former wound, before the three of you turned to look at the shattered doors as the emergency vehicles finally pulled up and discouraged firefighters, police, and PRT troopers. That struck you as odd for a moment, but then you remembered that the doors were shattered because you had blasted someone through them, and that you were standing inside The Dollhouse. The shop belonging to Parian, who was a parahuman. Of-fucking-course the PRT was going to show up, and you were willing to bet that there would be members of the Protectorate and the Wards arriving very shortly as well!
“So, what’s our story, girls?” you ask after a long moment, watching as the fallen skinhead outside was checked, one officer carefully taking custody of the thug’s firearm with a gloved hand and dropping it into an evidence bag that was promptly sealed.
“We were here shopping, a bunch of Nazi thugs showed up, you protected us when they started shooting. It’s simple, easy to remember, and most importantly, just so happens to be true.” Sabah said promptly, glancing at Cassie, who frowned before nodding slowly.
“Not bad, but let’s go one better. Taylor triggered to protect us. I dunno how much time you guys spend on PHO, but asking people too many details about Trigger Events is a big taboo, and punishing people for anything that they did during their Trigger is an even bigger one.” She suggested, getting a thoughtful look from Sabah and a confused one from you.
“That’s certainly true. Parian obviously isn’t going to cause any problems, but if law enforcement thinks it was a Trigger Event, they can only ask you politely to join up with the Wards rather than put serious pressure on you over it.” She agreed, and while you were still quite lost, it was obvious that the two of them knew what was going on and what they were talking about. Better to trust them, you think to yourself, better to trust them and play along with their cunning(?) plan.
“Game time.” Cassie murmurs, raising her hands plainly into view as the police flowed through the door, guns drawn but not pointed directly at the three of you. Two approached you directly, if cautiously, as the rest moved to secure the rest of the Empire soldiers. The lead officer was younger and had the look of a by-the-books kid, while the other was older, more grizzeled, and seemed like he was more interested in getting things done than how they got done.
“Ladies, are any of you hurt?” the lead officer’s eyes roamed over all three of us, taking in the tears on Cassie’s and I’s clothes and the small blood stains on our clothes and fingers.
“Good afternoon, officers. My name is Sabah Kazem, I work for Parian, the owner of this establishment. These two young women are my customers.” Sabah spoke up immediately, stepping forward slightly with a polite nod of greeting. “My friends were both injured, shot actually, but…”
“A healer of some sort, then.” The second cop grunted, and you think that the only thing separating him from the old sergeant from every police procedural ever was the lack of a toothpick for him to chew on in between sentences. “No offense, girls, but we’ll need you to come out with us and establish bona-fides before we can move forward. Especially you, the cape-watchers are gonna want to talk to you.”
You couldn’t help but grin at that. You’d never heard the PRT or the Protectorate referred to as ‘cape-watchers’ before, but it was hilarious and you were never going to forget it. Hell, you’d tell your dad about it later. He’d probably find it funny too, and it would give you something to chat about.
“As long as you keep the rest of the thugs that tried to kill me and my friends away from me, I’ll talk to whoever you want.” You respond agreeably, if with rather less politeness and deference than your parents raised you to behave with towards law enforcement. A mix of adrenaline and brashness born from wearing a mask, probably.
The older man chuckled at that, turning around and heading back towards the door. The three of you followed, picking your way through some of the chaos, and you looked around carefully. The rest of Ethan’s pack had been cleared out, carried outside by officers or paramedics, and you could see that a sizeable crowd had started to gather around the still-being-established perimeter. You could also see that Mark was covered by a sheet, and your stride stuttered, nearly bringing you to a halt.
You had seen enough movies and shows and news reports to know what that meant, and you swallowed heavily as it hits you that you killed someone. You hadn’t wanted to, you had only meant to protect yourself and your friends, but someone had died directly due to your actions.
You felt a wash of relief as Cassie and Sabah both grabbed an arm and squeezed reassuringly when they saw what had claimed your attention. Cassie’s eyes, to your wonder, were harder and filled with a sort of approval that caught you off-guard. You would have thought Sabah would be the most satisfied, but she seemed more sad than anything else. Cassie, Cassie looked vindicated. She looked pleased, somehow, although the voices of your power disagreed somewhat. She wasn’t pleased that someone had died, per se, but that the person who had started the violence had received justice.
That honestly didn’t make you too much happier about her reaction, but you didn’t think that you could judge how Cassie was allowed to react to having her life in danger or being shot. You try to quash the part of your spirits that lift at the idea that she may not be Empire, like you had feared. After all, nobody who was in the Empire would be happy about other Empire members getting killed, right? I mean, that wouldn’t be a thing, even Nazis probably cared about their comrades, you were sure, even if only for the sake of their reputations.
Once outside, the three of you were shuffled over to a separate section of the crime scene and checked out by medics. They cleared you quickly, confirming that your efforts at healing the injuries seemed to have worked, but suggesting a checkup at a local hospital to make sure of it. That seemed reasonable to you, even if you would have to be careful about the timing in order to try and preserve your identity. A half-dozen people already knew your face, now, and at least two knew exactly who was under the mask too. You needed to be careful to keep that number from expanding.
Of course, the medics being satisfied with your health and leaving you to assist their fellows in checking the Empire ‘bangers meant that your were ready for a chat as far as the cops were concerned, and the same two officers that had escorted you out here in the first place (and hadn’t gone further away then a dozen yards) approached again. They weren’t the only ones, though, because someone else approached, and your heart leapt into your throat.
Five-foot seven, dark haired and olive skinned, dressed in army fatigues that accentuated every curve, her features concealed by a carefully shaped American flag scarf, bottle-glass green eyes warm and welcoming. It was one of your favorite heroes, one of the women that you had dreamed of emulating when you became a hero.
Miss Militia.
“Good afternoon girls, officers. Do you mind too terribly if I borrow your…interestingly masked friend for a chat? I promise to return her just as she is.” The All-American Heroine ‘asked’ kindly, looking over at you. The cops didn’t look happy about it, which you figured made sense given the rivalries between the two kinds of law enforcement that they represented, and your friends looked distinctly uncomfortable, but you nodded in acceptance all the same.
The two of you moved away, standing as far from everyone else in the vicinity as you possibly could, and Miss Militia looked around consideringly before reaching into one of her hip pouches and pulling out a pair of what looked like small lapel pins.
“Here. It’s a combination microphone and jammer. It will record anything you say during your statement and prevent anyone else with a microphone from being able to record us or use their microphones to understand what we are saying.” She explained as she handed one over, and your fingers twitched in shock as she casually handed over a piece of priceless Tinkertech. Sure, she knew that she would be getting it back and the likelihood of you trying to make a run with it, never mind actually escaping, was infinitesimal, but she was still handing you something that was probably worth as much as your house. You followed her instructions to put it on and activate it, trying to calm the wild butterflies in your stomach, and waited for the questioning to begin.
“This is Miss Militia, 25th of May, 2009, 1635 hours, responding to an apparent conflict between unpowered members of the criminal organization known as Empire Eighty-Eight and three civilians at 135B Broadway, the business known as ‘The Dollhouse’. I will now begin interviewing one of the civilians in question, a female parahuman of unknown affiliation. Please, introduce yourself and tell me what happened.”
You stared and blushed, feeling like a colossal fool as your mind raced. A name?! She wanted a name?! Oh, God, you hadn’t even begun to imagine a codename yet! Not to mention she wanted you to tell her what happened! What could you possible call yourself, and what would you tell her beyond that?
“I’m…”
Select One Name Option and One Story Option!
Names
[ ] League
[ ] Summoner
[ ] Legion
[ ] Runeterra
[ ] Legacy
[ ] Persona
[ ] Lore
[ ] Write in
Story
[ ] The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But The Truth
[ ] Mostly Honest (you already had powers, but hadn’t used them before)
[ ] Spin The Tale (Lie through your teeth, using the story Cassie and Sabah came up with)
[ ] Write In
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There we are, another chapter of this written! We should pretty soon be at the point Omakes will be possible and make some semblance of sense, at which point I can reward those who decide to write them. After all, Omakes wouldn’t have made much sense when Taylor didn’t know that she had powers, right?
The next story to be updated will be Seraphim, then Nothing Is True!
