The Magistracy's Baby

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Something featuring Wonder Woman and a hot tub.

 

What?

 

I don't think my wife would approve. Loudly.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

These two posts got me wondering and now I have a question: are these stories you've been posting novelizations of games you've played' date=' or actual fiction you've written using your own characters? Either way, its all good. As to what I'd like to see: anything you have works for me. [/quote']

 

 

These are just stories I am going to put on my web site eventually. The other two threads I recap (Teen Guardians and Xiaolin Busters) are games that I am running/corunning online.

CES

[aylwin13]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

OK, I was just wondering. The Magistracy stories sound just like the type of supers game I like to play in. The characters are interesting, in both the powers and the personalities. Nice work.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

I tend to write more like the comics I loved when I was a kid, and game these weird massive threats that are horrific. I don't understand it myself.

CES

[aylwin13]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

A lot of that may be due to your players. They may want to play in a game that is more Iron/Bronze/"Whatever They're On Now" Age. When you're by yourself (writing) you go back to that "happier place" that comics used to be. I have to say that I prefer that place myself.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

A lot of that may be due to your players. They may want to play in a game that is more Iron/Bronze/"Whatever They're On Now" Age. When you're by yourself (writing) you go back to that "happier place" that comics used to be. I have to say that I prefer that place myself.

 

The Domino City game I ran for a while had a bunch of young guys and they were anime fans also for the most part. So most of their time was spent trying to deal with time travel and the Kings of the Underworld.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

11

The Chemist sat up in bed. The bullet wounds were closed. Some pain killer let him focus enough to work some spell work. The first thing was to get back on his feet. The temptation to do something to Stafford when they met again was strong.

 

He kept thinking of toads for some reason.

 

The Chemist climbed out of bed, pulling the sensors and IV loose, worked some writing on his wounds as he got to his feet. He could do a lot of things if he had the focus and will. The very least was relieving his pain enough to work on his wounds while he looked for his clothes and sunglasses.

 

The magic worked on him as he searched the spare contents of the sick bay. He was not happy that his clothes had apparently been thrown away. He had worn those coveralls since the forties. A lot of minor spells went into them to keep them clean and usable over the years.

 

Nothing to be done about that.

 

The Chemist wrote on his hospital gown. The letters changed the thin fabric into the plain mechanic's uniform he preferred and boots. He ripped off a piece of tape and made sunglasses to match the ones he couldn't find.

 

He took a moment to gauge his physical condition. His magic had repaired the damage done to him, was building up his strength. He needed some real food for fuel. Then he was back in business.

 

He would remember the pain, and ache sometimes when he least expected it. Even magic wouldn't fix that. It was coded in his brain, whether it was real pain, or not. Still he was alive, and he was in a position to make someone pay.

 

He wasn't going to waste that.

 

The Chemist headed for the cafeteria. He nodded to the staff walking the halls when they froze in place. He hid the smile. Everyone must have thought he was on death's door. He got in line for Salisbury steak, mac and cheese, and a couple of other things that weren't on his diet. He needed the fuel, before he passed out.

 

The Chemist enjoyed the mass produced lunch, only looking up when he got more. He spotted Reilly and headed for the back of the lunch room with a full tray before the operations officer could see him. He wanted to fill up before there was more trouble, and Reilly looked like trouble just stepping into the room.

 

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Reilly settled at the Chemist's table, pint of milk in hand. "Maker will want to check you out."

 

"Trying to eat, Kev." The Chemist gobbled up the servings on the plastic plate with the click-click of metal on dish. "I'll talk to her when I'm done."

 

"The rest of the guys were out chasing leads." Reilly took a long pull from his carton. "They're coming back in a little bit. Silver and Pointer were arguing jurisdiction last I heard."

 

"They would be," said the Chemist. "Let me eat, then I'll check in with Maker. I'm pretty sure she has some idea how to deal with things."

 

"I don't think so," said Reilly. "At least you've made a miraculous recovery."

 

"A little eye of the toad." The Chemist pushed back from his empty plate, sighing slightly. "Remind me to eat on the main land from now on."

 

"Why do you think I only got milk?" Reilly hoisted the nearly empty carton.

 

"Let's see what we can do for our lovely machinist." The Chemist got to his feet, feeling his large meal disappearing as he moved. He led the way out of the room after grabbing a few pieces of cake to take with him.

 

The two men made their way to the operations deck. Support staff eyed them quietly as they entered the large room. Screens and keyboards worked furiously but almost silently.

 

Maker didn't like squeaky components in her machinery.

 

The woman in question was plugged into her own link to the computer system used by the tower. Her eyes had the abstract look of thought and absence.

 

Almost like she was working a spell instead of sifting information.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

12

 

Jerry Silver nodded to the Chemist when he entered the room. He had given the Triangle to Pointer. Some of it was to keep the law man from interfering with their business with the Halberdier. Mostly he didn't need them as long as he had Stafford.

 

And he wasn't giving Stafford up until he had wrung something useful from the man.

 

"What's going on?" The Chemist adjusted his sunglasses as he walked across the operations room.

 

"We're getting ready to talk with Stafford." Silver put out his cigarette. "I got him in a conference room. Maker is trying to run things down from flecks on his costume. Forensics first. We don't want him to shut down again."

 

The Chemist nodded. The mastermind behind the thefts probably had some line on Stafford. As soon as he saw the magician, there was a chance that he would take the mercenary out of the picture again.

 

Why not exhaust other possibilities first?

 

"I found some flecks I can't identify, but the rest is useless as far as locations he might have gone." Maker disconnected from the control panel. "Everything else is native to California. It's a bust."

 

"Plan B." Silver popped a cigarette out of an abused pack from his jacket pocket, and lit it. "Let's see what happens when we start prying."

 

"I can wait outside in case my presence is what triggers the mind spell." The Chemist felt better, but still hungry. Maybe he should have picked up some high energy carbo bars. "Some magic is specific that way."

 

"We'll need you to exert some kind of influence." Silver led the way from the operations room. "I don't think this will be as easy as checking that clone."

 

"I can give you something to take in the room that should be harmless." The Chemist patted his pockets, then realized he didn't have a pen or pad thanks to his clothes being ruthlessly dealt with by whomever had taken care of him when he arrived back at the Tower after being shot. "I'll need something to write on."

 

Silver handed over a piece torn from his cigarette pack, and a stub of a pencil. The magician wrote two symbols on the paper. He handed both back to the electrical man.

 

"Show him that and that should make him answer any question truthfully." The Chemist adjusted his sunglasses. "Anything more might set off the trap."

 

Silver nodded, pausing at the door to the room where he had met Pointer and the members of the CORPS days ago. He pushed inside, putting on a neutral expression.

 

"How's it going, Stafford?" Silver blocked the door until Maker stepped inside and it closed behind her. "I have some questions for you."

 

"I don't know anything." The Halberdier's hair still stank from the shock he had been given in Los Angeles. His mask sat on the table in front of his chair. Weapons had already been locked in the vault while he had been restrained. Everyone knew he was still dangerous if they let him have an opening. "Even if I did, I have to respect the confidence of my employer. It's in the rule book."

 

"I want you to tell me who you work for and what's the deal with the papers you were trying to steal." Silver held up the paper with the magic symbols on it so Stafford could see them.

 

Silver's cigarette snapped out as pressure filled the room. He looked around. Please not another break in. Anything but that.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

13

Jeff Stafford looked around, feeling something in his throat. His captors had varying looks of concern on their faces. Something was wrong with him. He strained at the cuffs holding him to the chair. They refused to give way.

 

Jeff hurled on the table and carpet. It felt strange. He hadn't vomited since he was still in Basic years ago. He didn't like the way the bile smiled at him from the table top.

 

The mercenary kicked back from the table, trying to stop his throat from doing what it wanted to do. His insides felt crushing pressure. More fluid escaped him as the Magistrates rushed forward to give aid.

 

The bile split apart into droplets, each droplet becoming a featureless humanoid the size of a doll, then they tried to exit the room through the vent system. Some of them did that. Some went for the automatic door. And some went for the Magistracy.

 

Quick tried fanning them out of existence with her speed. The effigies splattered. Each drop became another. She stopped, backing up from the pint sized menace. Luna and John Public were in the same boat. They could defend themselves at the cost of spreading their enemy.

 

Phaeton called on his solar powers, frying the little beasts before they could touch him. His flaming aura and energy beams dissipated them as fast as he could boil them away. He got in front of Luna, and without intending to Quick and John Public.

 

Maker willed a scanner to overlay her visor as she kept back from the yellow gummi bears. The readout said the things were made out of liquid. She didn't have a flame thrower in her armor, but her arm cannon should still be useful. A simple mental command to her factory loaded shells with nanomachines to solve the problem. She fired as the first jelly thing grabbed her ankle.

 

The nanomachines spread out in front of Maker in a shotgun puff of technology. They hit the liquid menace, sinking to the core of the beasts. Then they dropped their temperatures until the yellow bodies turned to icicles.

 

Jerry Silver jumped in front of the door. He glared at the stampede rushing him to get to the rest of the building. He knelt, then fired a bolt of electricity through them. A smile would have come but he had to angle his arc away from his friends. That took some finesse he didn't normally use.

 

The job wasn't over.

 

A lot of those things had made it into the vent system. The door and the attack had been distractions to allow their strike squad a chance to run loose. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were after.

 

"Sound alert, Reilly." Silver thumbed his com for the order. "Little yellow things. They rode in with Stafford."

 

The Chemist opened the door, one hand holding a line in preparation for battle. One look around the room caused him to frown.

 

"Get rid of those things, Chemist." Silver pointed to the frozen icicles. "Quick, get Stafford to sick bay and put him under a microscope. Phaeton, head for the vault room. Chemist and Maker, we need to make sure we get all those things out of the building. Luna, we need weapons for you, John, and Quick to use on the things. We need to go over security after this. This magician guy is punching more holes in the Tower than anything we thought of when we started."

 

The group split up to carry out their tasks. Silver headed for the control room. Sensors had been added to the vent system to keep out pests. Maybe that would help them get a handle on the situation.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

14

 

Phaeton roared through the halls, leaving burning air behind him as he went. The vault room had been placed near the center of the building. The theory was invaders would have to enter through the lobby, the roof, or the sides of the building. Valuables and evidence should be placed where intruders would have to fight to get to it. Silver had a lot of faith that no one was getting through his guys.

 

Phaeton paused outside the metal encased room. There was no way in beyond the door. If those booger things wanted in, they would have to get through him. His forbidding aura said no as he waited for his pint sized enemies.

 

The solar hero didn't have to wait long before the yellow invaders poured from the vents. He blazed away with his heat blasts, but realized that they had multiplied making their way through the metal conduits. They flooded the room around him as he cut the monsters down by the score.

The battle triggered the overhead firefighting system. Streams of frozen chemicals dropped down on the foyer. Phaeton tried to burn the cold away, fell, and slid on the floor. He noted that his enemies froze under the onslaught. He tried to get to his feet as the white fog cleared. Fresh jelly babies tackled him through the door, clearing the opposition away from their goal.

 

Phaeton struggled to his feet. His aura flickered. It wasn't much, but it fired the vomit monsters touching him. He boiled away some more with a sweep of his arms. He fought his way back into the vault room.

 

One of the beasts slipped into the cracks of the metal door. It was supposed to be airtight. Phaeton didn't know if the thing could press through to the other side. He had to make sure that didn't happen.

 

First he had to get rid of the ones in the vault room.

 

Phaeton flew across the room near the floor. He boiled any of the little monsters he touched into yellow steam. When he was sure he had taken care of those that had survived the first wave, he went to the safe door and opened it. He had to get rid of that last one.

 

The last one searched several drawers before finding the one it wanted. It squeezed its yellow body through a key hole in the front.

 

Phaeton roared across the vault. He gripped the front of the lock box and pulled. The metal came away with a shriek. The magistrate reached in to grab the booger baby. The menace grabbed the sheets of paper in fingerless hands. A letter appeared around it, whisking it away in a fit of unwriting.

 

"Silver won't like that." Phaeton grimaced as he looked around the vault, hoping nothing else had been taken.

 

"We lost," Phaeton said into his com. "One of them got away with the papers we prevented Stafford and the Triangle from getting."

 

"Marvelous." Silver stood in the control room, looking over his domain. One beating didn't mean the war was over. "We need to finish clearing those things out of the building. Stafford needs to be checked for any more surprises. We'll regroup at the conference room when we're done."

 

Phaeton boiled away the things that had been frozen. Then he checked the contents of the vault that bore signs of tampering. He cleaned the boxes as well as he could under the circumstances, then went in search of Luna after locking everything back up.

 

A few seconds faster he could have prevented the theft. He didn't know why those papers were so important, but he had a feeling he had cost the team heavily. He hoped no one was killed because of his failure.

[csyphrett]

Re: The Magistracy's Baby

 

Epilogue

 

The writer took the loose pages from his globulus minion. He placed them one at a time in the template with the other two pages secured by the Halberdier. The operation had been a success, but he had lost a good hireling for the moment.

 

He wrote on the air over the special cradle. He had thought about the combination of symbols for a long time. Each one had to be perfect. The glowing letters dropped on the pages. Each one added a glow to the paper, added the characteristic he wanted.

 

Crying erupted from the glow. He smiled as he hurriedly painted more signs in the air with his finger. He was writing a life's beginning in a few moments of time. Things had gone almost exactly as he had planned it.

 

He doubted Stafford would appreciate being used as a Trojan horse. It did the job. That's all that mattered at the moment.

 

The light faded as the letters finished their shaping. A tiny hand flailed over the bars. He smiled as his new son announced his arrival lustfully. He picked up the infant in his arms, rocking him gently.

 

The writer wrapped the baby in a blanket conjured from the air. A smile crossed his face. His son would be the most powerful magician on the planet. There would be nothing he could not do.

 

Dr. Krueger's clones would be his servants, and his army.

 

It was time to think about handing over the reins to someone else. His vast financial empire would allow his son the leisure to plan better controls. The clones would carry out his wishes. His son would be the perfect proxy ruler while he looked at other dimensions to bring under his sway.

 

The best thing about his scheme was he had made the Magistracy look like fools while he did it. The Chemist must be slowing down after all this time. Who would have thought that?

 

"Higgins." The valet appeared at once, face as neutral as ever. "I will be taking a vacation for a while. I want you to oversee my holdings until I get back. Keep everything as quiet as you can. No massacres this time."

 

"Your will is my command." The valet bowed at the waist stiffly. "Shall I ask how long you will be gone?"

 

"Enoch and I will be sequestered until he reaches an appropriate age to handle things for me here on Earth." The writer gazed fondly down at his newborn son, quieting with the steady rocking of arms. "When we return, there shall be a grade on your performance. Don't let me down, Higgins."

 

"I shall try to conduct myself with as exemplary service as I can deliver, sir." Higgins nodded to himself. "Shall I see you off?"

 

"Don't worry about that." The writer carried his bundle to the door of his command center. "Please make sure the template is stored away. I may use it again if I can find the proper ingredients."

 

The writer traced his finger over the cool metal surface of the door. The door slid open on a bright sunny day. He stepped through, holding his son close.

 

"Take care of things, Higgins." The door closed softly, cutting off the sunlight.

 

Higgins went to the wall of television screens. He snapped his fingers, taking in the news services telling him the state of the world. He waved the mechanisms to darkness, picked up the empty wooden frame on his master's desk, and moved to the door. The rest of the day was his to do with as he pleased. He paused in front of the door.

 

"Well, Higgins," he muttered to himself. "The whole world is in your hands. What are you going to do now?"

 

He closed his amber eyes for a minute, smiled at the decision he had made.

 

"I'm going to Disneyland."

 

The valet stepped through the door.