The Vanguard - Issue #0 (November 2034)

[Keehnelf]

The Vanguard - Issue 0

Opening Moves

[Keehnelf]

In this issue, there will be three personal scenes (that may or may not involve combat, but it is story-incidental) and one combat scene in which the resolution of the conflict with the identified enemies takes place. This post will include my high-level "directorial" emphasis for the overall structure, and then I will provide a post laying out the staging for each scene (including any story-necessary information about what happens between scenes). Hope that makes sense and works for everyone--you'll see how it plays out as we go, and always feel free to provide feedback in the OOC thread about any of this as it is entirely experimental and cobbled together from different approaches in games I like.

Scene 1: The Origin of the Heatseeker
In this scene, Heatseeker will have been doing what he does for a while, but it's time to "go official". I imagine this scene being with his manager, where he can lay out his reasons for doing what he's doing. Alternately, this could involve a confrontation with Lackluster Lad and provide the impetus for the same. Mister-Kent's call on this one.

Scene 2: The Origin of Threshold
In this scene, we'll explore what happens to make Threshold turn from his ongoing life of petty crime to one of super-heroism. Maybe it's his first meeting with Professor Tiberius, or maybe it's seeing Dale Copenhaver endangered by the antics of a petty crook much like himself--only unlike Peter Parker, Kevin can actually do something. Again, Keal's call on this one.

Scene 3: Unlikely Partners
In this scene, the duo will come together and figure out that they're more of a force as a team than they are separately. I'm going to leave the shape of this scene undecided until we see how the other two scenes go.

Scene 4: The Heist
In this scene, the duo will attempt to foil a bank robbery by a gang of normal thugs with not-so-normal weapons when they happen to be nearby and the police are powerless to do anything. Again, more details to come as things take shape.

My initial thought is to run one scene at a time, in order, as laid out above, even though that keeps some folks more involved than others. My hope is that, as these are intended to be character-building scenes, they will help everyone understand the other characters a bit better to have the focus on this as we go rather than have others involved in decision-making simultaneously where they might miss interesting revelations or plot developments.

However, I would be glad to try out other formats, such as: running the personal scenes simultaneously, or assigning NPC-portrayal duties to other players as well as to myself for these scenes

Let me know what would work best for you, and please chime in on how you want to flesh out scenes 1 and 2!

[Keehnelf]

Scene One: the Origin of the Heatseeker

The crowd around Vanguard Plaza, the administrative building erected nine years ago to house the new GIRA (Gifted Individuals Regulatory Agency) apparatus, was small as could be expected on a cold November morning, a mixed group of those waiting for the first glimpse of any newly-registering supers, fans and gossip-rag "reporters", and those who were nervous about both the individuals and the body set up to both police and support them and shared their concern with ongoing protests even a near-decade later. In general the fans outnumbered the critics, and this morning was no exception as Marco Reyes clambered out of Maddy Presley's mercedes sedan at the edge of the plaza to make his way to the main entrance.

There was no doubt in his mind as he adjusted his mask that the group was there for him--there was only one registration every week or so, and the schedule for these examinations were the worst-kept secret in the business, so any individual looking for some buzz was only too happy to leak the information themselves if it didn't happen to get out through other means. Maddy was good at her job, so this was a solid showing by any measure--the hype had been building just long enough for interest not to have died off, and a few minor appearances in The Post earlier in the week helped cement the deal. At this point it was just a matter of dealing with the exam itself....

---

A few hours later, Marco returns the way he came to find the crowd mostly dispersed. A pair of young ladies ask for autographed prints of photos taken from The Post, Maddy's favored outlet for this sort of thing, and a reporter from The Village Voice approaches him. "Got a minute for a few questions?" he asks, recorder held out to capture his responses but not yet recording.

[Mister-Kent]

Marco flashes his cheeky dimpled grin as he clicks his red marker-pen, writing across the bottom-right corner of each girl's photo. He writes "XoXo, heatSeeker", with the big "S" in the middle of lowercase letters.

He winks to the crowd, and then turns to the reporter, sliding his pen into his back pocket. "Uh, yeah--I got time," he says, leaning in to the recorder playfully.

[Keehnelf]

"Great, thanks! The name's Willem, Nadir Willem, of the Village Voice. We've seen a pretty steady number of new Gifted Individuals, as the state likes to call them, register, but most scientists believe that the number of new super-powered humans is actually increasing with time. That suggests that most have chosen to remain unregistered and at-risk for incarceration or deportation under some elements of the Vanguard Act. Would you care to comment on your own reasons for deciding to register yourself? Do you think your profile has just grown too much to risk a chance at facing criminal consequences, as some have speculated?" The reporter looks eager, excited.

Go ahead and make an Empathy test, Focus with a TN of 7 to get a better read on this guy to help shape your answers, if you want.

[Keehnelf]

Never mind--forgot you have a high Focus, so that's automatic at his level for this (you'd only need to roll a 2 on 2d6). Surface emotional states are easy for Marco to read under normal circumstances.

This reporter is not only excited to be getting this moment to interview (he's young--maybe this is a big break for him?), but he seems specifically agitated and nervous, like he has something personally invested in the questions he's asking or preparing to ask.

[Mister-Kent]

Heatseeker listens and nods as Nadir asks the question. He's not just listening to his words, but his feelings on the subject as well.

Still leaning into the recorder, he places a comforting hand on the young reporter's shoulder. "Well, Nadir, first of all, thanks for coming out today! To be completely honest, I'm registering to serve as an example to all the other Gifted out there: Registration is not the end of your life, and the Vanguard is not the enemy."

"If anything, I'm registering to show how much better they could have it. Frankly, hooking up with the Vanguard gives me so many more resources, so much more potential to save lives--I'd be missing out on a great opportunity if I didn't sign up!"

He smiles winningly, and removes his hand from Nadir's shoulder to wave to the crowd.

[Keehnelf]

Nadir nods, as though this were an answer he expected. He follows up quickly. "Does it make you nervous at all, knowing that GIRA now has your DNA and all your personal information, including a detailed psychological profile, that they can use in basically any way they want? I know they've committed to not using any of that unless circumstances necessitate it, but the Vanguard Act as it stands doesn't offer much in the way of limitations on power..." he lets the question trail off.

[Mister-Kent]

Heatseeker nods and smiles, but this smile is more forced. "Look, I know its a concern--a very valid concern--but sniffing out danger is my thing. So if we had anything to fear from GIRA, I'd know, right?"

"Thanks for all your support today everyone! Remember to check me out online, +heatSeeker!"

He pushes past the crowd and gives a final pat on Nadir's back, then works his way to Maddy's car. "Oh god--just in time," he sighs as he plops down on the back seat. He rubs his right bicep, still achey from the GIRA doctor's long needle.

[Keehnelf]

Maddy smiles in the rearview mirror at Marco as she pulls away from the curb. "I thought you'd be out there a while with your adoring public, so I wanted to give you a good window. Did everything go alright inside?"

[Mister-Kent]

He looks up into the mirror and grins. "Mmhmm. Good turn-out! There's good buzz around this whole registration thing, but...it's funny. His smile fades.

"The Village Voice guy got me thinking--am I really ready for this, Mads? Repping myself, no big deal. But setting myself up as a spokesperson for the Vanguard Act, it's huge. It's this major deal that I--I'm not even sure how this'll affect my image in the long run..."

[Keehnelf]

"Well, you're the one that convinced me it was a good idea. I'm still not entirely sold, but at least there are fewer variables in the short-term. I know I can spin this thing well for a while until you get your wheels under you. The big question, or I should say the next big question, is whether we leak or reveal your real identity. It could cause some problems, like it did for Ape Man, but at the same time it's the fastest way to get to do this as a full-time gig."

Her expression darkens a bit before she continues. "Speaking of which. Marco, I've done a bit of informal polling on the side--limited sample size but in some pretty targeted demographics--and the bad news is that there are definitely folks out there that are put off by your easy style. They view you as 'a bit too made for TV', as one respondent put it. We need to find a way to blunt that impression a bit if we're going to make real traction with corporate sponsors or anyone else who might be interested in hitching their wagon to yours in the future. Long story short--it's a growth limiter, even though it makes big waves in the female 18 to 24 segment."

[Mister-Kent]

"Damn. That's totally my segment," he whines, smacking his fist lightly on the leather seat ahead of him. "But...I guess roughening out the edges of my persona couldn't hurt."

He runs his fingers along the sides of his black domino mask. "You think revealing my ID would help? Make me more 'street-level'? I'm not against the idea, per se. Hm." He stares out the window, biting his lip contemplatively. He reaches for the door handle, then stops.

"No. not here. We gotta make it its own thing. This day's about the registration, and the unmasking...we should schedule an interview for that."

"Maybe if I could be seen hanging with some edgier types? Like, not straight-up gangbangers, but...someone with street cred?"

[Keehnelf]

"I'll see what I can scrape together..." she says with a smile.

/scene!

[Keehnelf]

Scene Two: the Origin of Threshold

It was a good night for Kevin Dwyer, whose coat was fat with the goods he'd managed to swipe thanks to his newfound abilities as he scurried home through the dark side streets of the lower east side. This would enable him to make rent this month, at least, which would be a nice change. Things were quiet under the patter of the rain and the distant sound of moving cars, quiet under the omni-present hum of the living city as it moved and shook and twitched beneath his feet, almost every bit of it full of life and full of activity. Lately, the more he'd used his abilities to go about his own business, the more aware he'd become of everyone else's, to the point at which he'd had to start shutting things out more and more.

Sometimes, when he was walking down the street soon after he'd hopped, it was all he could do to hold off the sheer pressure of everyone moving around him. Just their presence was enough to cause him distress, and making eye contact with a random stranger? Already a bad idea in this city, but a worse one when it could set off a headache that would keep him on his back in a dark room for hours afterward.

So, he found himself the darkest, quietest, emptiest back streets on his way home after using his abilities more than once or twice--chance meetings could definitely be a point of concern both for his health and his staying-out-of-jail.

It was quite a surprise, then, when he turned a corner at a quick jog to find a mugging in process at the far end of the alley. The assailant was little more than a kid, that much was obvious even from a glance, younger than Kevin even, in pretty rough shape but at the moment not quite as rough as the guy he was knocking over, who looked like he had enough to share anyway. His first instinct was to turn away. Nobody would get seriously hurt, and maybe that kid would eat a little better for a while, he thought, clutching his haul a little tighter under his coat. As he turned his head, the guy getting the bad end of the deal called out, just loudly enough to be heard over the rain, but not as loud as Kevin would shout if he was in trouble...

"Help! He's got a knife--ugh!" The solid sound that followed was almost as punishing as the voice itself. It belonged to Mister Copenhaver, probably the closest thing Kevin had to a family in the world. Being knifed in the rain in the dark. Alone. By some stupid kid who just wanted his money. Stupid. So stupid.

[keal]

Kevin had been walking with his head down and his hood up, a faint smile playing across his lips. It was rare for him to smile nowadays; the headaches were getting worse.

And then, of course, something happened that caused his faint smile to fade. Isn't that always the way things go, he remembered thinking guiltily much later. The sounds of the scuffle at the end of the alley he was on caught his attention. At first, he was going to let it slide, but something about the man's voice at the end of the alley gave him pause. Looking up, even through the yellowish haze that was cast by the street lights, he was able to make out the form - the unmistakable form - of Mr. Copenhaver and some smaller thug that was assaulting him. When Copenhaver shouted and then suddenly doubled over as the thug jabbed quickly at his midsection, Kevin froze in his tracks. The media discs and digital player he had been stowing away beneath his jacket tumbled out onto the concrete, denting the box and rattling the contents, and he also lost his grip on the energy drink he had yet to open. It hit particularly hard and popped the tab causing the contents to hiss as the pressure spun the tiny can around, spraying its contents on the alley walls.

Baring his teeth, Kevin gestured in front of him, his palm open and fingers extended, and a Way opened - a literal fissure that seemed to 'unzip' in the air. It showed the scene at the end of the alley - his chosen destination - quite clearly, and the strange, chaotic colors swirled around the edges of the portal like they always did. He made sure, this time, not to pay them any mind; he was afraid what he might see if he peered into them... and he stepped through.

In an instant, he was at the end of the alley, appearing suddenly out of thin air within three feet of the thug who was greedily patting down Copenhaver's prone and fetal-positioned form. "Hey," was all that Kevin spat out in order to get the thug's attention, and when the guy turned, Kevin reared back and gave him a swift kick beneath the chin. It hurt, kicking into a curvature of bone like that, but he was fairly certain that the thug got it worse. Jaws snapped shut, and he was fairly certain he heard the thug's teeth hit so hard that maybe a few of them broke, but it had the effect he wanted: The assailant reeled and pitched backward into a few bags of trash that had been set next to an already-full dumpster.

Kevin strode over to the thug's body, now completely passed out, and noted with dismay that it was nothing more than a kid. "Sixteen at the most," he muttered to the body... and then, "You moron." The kid hadn't had the time to completely find anything of Copenhaver's, so Kevin quickly turned back to the man and knelt down, making sure to pull his hood well over the top of his head.

"Hey," he grunted, trying to make his voice sound gravely and... older... somehow, "you okay? Buddy, talk to me." He desperately tried to keep his voice steady and hide the concern that was nearly causing his chest to burst.

[Keehnelf]

Kevin was only dimly aware of the kid scrambling to get away, not even bothering to attempt a protest or to collect his knife where it had fallen among the scattered refuse. All his attention was on the older man as he gasped, a rattling, scary sound like Kevin had never heard before. Mr. Copenhaver turned up toward Kevin and it was easy to see the damage done. Too easy. The front of the man's shirt and coat were slick, but not from rain, cast a frighteningly dark color, almost black, in the odd light of the street lamps.

The man's eyes were only half-open, but they started a bit wider at their first glimpse of Kevin. Worried about being recognized, he pulled his hood down even further, but the moment past and the man's eyes dropped closed once more, his breathing ragged and shallow.

[keal]

"Oh, man," Kevin groaned, once he saw the damage done to Copenhaver's body. He shot up, immediately pacing back and forth, his steps shuffling and quick. "Think, think, think," he repeated, his hands clenching and unclenching.

He glanced up and down the T-junction where the alleys met, and although cars passed by occasionally, there was no other foot traffic. They were all alone. How far can I hop? he pondered, his mind spinning with calculations. Most of them had been short bursts... mostly because that's all he had needed in order to get things done. While his mind raced and his feet continued their pacing, he continued to watch Copenhaver, completely unsure of what to do.

He felt helpless.

He felt alone. More alone than actually being alone.

And so... he shouted. He shouted for help. He screamed at the top of his lungs, cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted for help, his voice raw and ragged, pierced with anguish.

[Keehnelf]

As soon as the first cry escapes Kevin's lips, a bright flash of light fills the alley and in the blinded after-pattern of the scene he sees a tall, cloaked figure resolve itself into an imposing shadow, dark even against the night. The pale yellow of the street lamps flutter and flicker as though unable to cope with the utter blackness of this new presence.

Then the figure speaks, a quiet nasal voice full of concern. "You look like a man in need of a friend right about now." The dark form further resolves itself, suddenly, into a tall, lean form Kevin was familiar with from television. Professor Tiberius, regular expert witness and talking head on all varieties of unusual occurrences within the city, who resembled nothing more than a solicitous grocer in his television appearances. He retained the physical likeness in person, but exuded authority, power. An iron-hard will hiding behind his kind eyes.

He's in a dress shirt and slacks, the bright points of wing tips showing in the restored lamplight under a long, bright yellow cloak or cape embroidered with a panoply of whorls and arcane symbols. He reaches out his hand. "What can we do to improve this situation?" He asks.

[keal]

Kevin recoils and chokes back a yelp at the sudden arrival of Professor Tiberius, much to his own chagrin. This must be how people react when *I* do it to them, he thinks.

"Wha...," he starts off by saying, before straightening and gesturing helplessly toward the body of Mr. Copenhaver. "He's a frien-," he stammers before catching himself. "I mean, he's a citizen I saw who was getting mugged." Pointing toward the dark stain that is spreading ever so slightly each second, he also adds, "And he's been stabbed." As soon as the words escape from his lips, he immediately feels foolish for uttering such an obvious thing to someone as erudite as the Professor.

Glancing back the way the thug fled, he adds, "I was able to stop the kid from getting anything, but my powers weren't enough to stop him from getting hurt." Turning to look the professor full in the face, a pleading tone creeping into his voice, Kevin asks, "Can you help him? Heal him? Save him?" Even with his hood on, even in a dark alley, he could see the way the Professor was looking at him - really Looking at him - that led Kevin to believe that he couldn't hide anything from the man if he tried.