I love that part when she tells Gadget to call it a day. And then next thing "If my mom asks, tell her I am spending the night at your place." She's a hero, but also still a kid.

Cripes, look at his underground lair! Gorsh, that place could be featured on HGTV if he weren't trying to keep it secret.

The Hammer likes Wu-Tang Clan. Yes, I also would have never guessed he's got a prosthetic leg.

In a way Lighthammer is quite a mystery. Because we know by now how January and Raven became who they are today, a lot of it was through magical abilities which they were able to tap into and exploit. But with LH, I am realizing I have no idea how he's become who he is today.



Interesting. That answers my first question. Damn. I love that part when the reverend can be seen glowing brighter. See, that would set aside the fakers from the actual saints of this world, if somebody could see this in the astral plane for real. And of course, Lighthammer (Lucas) would only have a saint on his side. Only the best for our superheroes of Detroit. Too bad this reverend is kind of a dork, when it comes to modernizing his bigoted ways.

I like that she stays there after Bigot Man leaves. That's the right thing to do, I think.

Acadian: The Armex Steel is just something I made up to be a high tech metal. The ballistic goo is real however. It is an experimental form of body armor that should be both light, and bulletproof.

Lighthammer was not originally envisioned as being disabled. But when I was working on this chapter and his history it became more and more right. Especially since he is so good at flying.

Jan has definitely had enough of the Rev for a lifetime. Dealing with people like him is simply the reality that many have to deal with, which is why he is in here.


Renee: It is like all the way back in the first book, when Jan had to call her mom to say she would be late while she was in the middle of superheroing. I love little touches like that.

Lighthammer's place is not as lavishly furnished as in the pictures. But the general look and feel is right. He lives in an old church, so it has those lofty spaces.

We will get more about Hammer's origin story in today's episode. The simple story is that he is a meta-human whose powers eventually woke up.

January would not just walk out on the Hammer until she knows he is hanging ok. So she will definitely spend the entire night there.







Lighthammer's home is located where the RL St. John's Episcopal Church is.

As always it can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map





Book 7.9 - Hammer Down
June 18


"One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.
Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten for a bird,
You must not miss."

January sang to herself as she pried apart the cast iron handles of the old-fashioned waffle pan. She did not bother to use a pair of oven mittens. What was a few hundred degrees after all? The twin lids swung apart, to reveal amber treasure within. She dropped a nearly perfect specimen of waffle goodness onto a plate. She set aside the empty waffle maker and turned to a frying pan filled with mini-sausages, and made sure to flip them all over to keep them from burning.

"What is that you're singing?" A warm male voice rolled out across the open living space of Lighthammer's church-home. January turned around to see the owner coming down the stairs in a bathrobe. He was bathed in the golden sunlight that streamed in through the tall glass windows that lined the walls of the former church. A towel was draped around his neck, and his feet were bare. Well, his one flesh and blood foot at least.

"Just counting crows," January murmured. "It's something my mom taught me when I was little."

Then her voice brightened. "You look a lot better."

"I guess a good night's sleep is all I really needed," he smiled. He was halfway across the room when he stopped dead in his tracks. January could see that he was really taking a close look at her. She tried not to feel self-conscious.

"Damn, you are not what I expected," he finally exhaled. "But what on earth is that you are wearing?"

January looked down. She was no longer clad in her armor. Instead she wore the same green, tentacle-emblazoned skater dress she had the day before. Apparently when she did her quick change, it automatically reverted to whatever she had been wearing last. That was something else she thought she might look into improving upon. It would be a nice if she could change into anything on the fly.

"This is my Cthulhu dress," she smiled. "Don't you like it? It's one of my favorites."

"It would be," Lighthammer shook his head. But he was smiling, so he was clearly in much better humor than the Reverend from the previous night. He sidled into a chair at the rectangular dining room table, and January brought him out a plate of waffles and sausages, then followed with a glass of milk.

"Are you always this domestic?" he wondered. "Even my girlfriend won't cook me breakfast."

"I'm practicing," January said honestly. "My mom used to always cook. But since we moved out, I've been making an effort to be more useful."

"You didn't have to," Lighthammer insisted.

"Well I was hungry," January replied. "It would have been rude to just make breakfast for myself."

Lighthammer almost laughed. Then his face turned as serious as stone, and he gestured at her bared features. "No, I mean this. You didn't have to show me who you are. I mean, I'm new to the whole superhero game, but I know the rules the same as anyone else."

"Well, you trusted me enough to bring me here," January fought to stop from biting her lip. "I am trusting you the same. That is how trust works after all. If we don't stand with each other, we all fall."

"Besides, it can be so hard sometimes, wearing that mask." January dropped into a chair with a plate of her own. "When I put it on, there is this whole weight of responsibility that comes with it. I can carry that. I knew it came with the cape. But it also comes with this alienation, this apartness from everyone else around me. No matter how friendly I am, no matter how many selfies I take with people, I am always the one holding part of myself back, in secret. Sometimes it's like being in the closet all over again."

"Yeah, I know," Lighthammer stared down at his plate, and moved his sausages around aimlessly. "To be honest, you and Blood Raven are the only other capes I have ever met. Well, without blasting them at least. It really does start to feel like being a spy out in the cold after a while. I guess that's why so many of us work with partners, or whole teams."

"Lucas Gross." He looked up resolutely and held out his hand. "I am delighted to make you acquaintance."

"January Ward." She took his hand, and was surprised at how gentle his grip was. Once again, she was glad that she did not have to pretend to be male anymore, and get into handshake battles with half the people she met. "The honor is all mine Sir Gross. Or is it Yard Sale?"

"You saw that?" Lucas leaned back with a little smile. "That was my call sign when I was in the Air Force."

"I was guessing, with all the airplane stuff you have," January noted around a mouthful of waffles. She pointed to the one in the picture over the fireplace. "Was that your plane?"

"Yes," Lucas beamed proudly. "Not that exact one of course. But I was an A-10 driver. At least until I met Peggy here," He tapped one hand against his artificial lower leg.

"You're very brave about that," January admitted. "I don't think I could take it in so well."

"Believe me, I didn't." Lucas stared down at his sausages and frowned. "It took a long time to deal with, a long time... The Rev helped a lot. He counsels veterans at the clinic he runs. He was in Vietnam, so he gets it. I still go to group every week. It helps me appreciate the things I still have in life, like my parents."

January looked over from the table to a picture on one of the walls. It was formal, and looked like a family portrait. It was of Lucas, that younger man, and the much older man and woman she had seen in the picture in his bedroom. All were dressed up. If the older couple were Lucas' parents, who was the younger man?

"Funny thing, my powers sort of turned on afterward," he continued. "I couldn't walk anymore. Not without learning how to all over again. But I could fly. The Lord giveth, and he taketh away."

"How did it happen?" January asked quietly. She hoped she was not prying too deeply. "Was it the war?"

"No," Lucas shook his head ruefully. "It was here, at home. I was on leave, and this Instantgram influencer was texting when she should have been watching where she was driving. The next thing I knew, I was ten pounds lighter. I spent years flying combat missions in Afghanistan. I pulled enough lead out of my fuselage to start a pencil factory. And it turns out some self-absorbed idiot with a phone is what does me in."

"Really?" January could not contain her surprise. "I never would have expected that."

"Oh yeah," Lucas nodded. "Afterward I looked it up. Vehicular accidents are the leading cause of injury for service people, not combat. Heck, more of us die outside of war zones rather than in them these days."

"The world is a wider, and stranger, place than any of us ever imagine." January echoed the words Blood Raven had said to her just a few weeks earlier.

"So how is it that you live in an old church, with a secret tunnel underneath it?" January asked a moment later.

"Oh this old place?" Lucas glanced up at the lofty arched roof overhead. "It used to be part of the Underground Railroad. That's why it has the secret tunnel to the river. They would sneak people onto boats and across the lake to Canada. The church had to sell it a while back. Some rock star bought it and turned it into a home. Then the IRS took it after he didn't pay his taxes. I bought it at an auction a few months ago. It seemed like the perfect Lightcave. So what's your Crow's Nest like?"

"Crow's Nest, why didn't I think of that one?" January shook her head. "I live in a Witch House. It's at the edge of the woods, so I can vanish into the trees when I come and go."

"A Witch House?" Lucas cocked an eyebrow with incredulity. "So it has Witches in it? Or it was built by a Witch?"

"Yes," January beamed. "Both. It runs in the family."

That reminded her of something else Blood Raven had once said.

"There is no escaping our blood," she repeated somberly.

"Wait a minute." A proverbial light bulb seemed to go off in Lucas' head. "You said you're January Ward? The January Ward, the writer? That's where I know you. I read your story in the Crow Tales blog! I've been following it from the start."

"How did you like it?" January could not resist asking. She instantly regretted it. Sometimes it was better not to know.

"Well, I never went in for all that Lord of the Rings stuff," Lucas looked sheepish. "But I guess it was alright. The truth is I prefer more shootouts and car chases, and less talking. It was an easier read than Frankenstein though. Don't get me wrong, that was good, really good, and nothing like the movies. But it was brutal. I could identify at times, with the Creature. How he felt, and how I did after the accident..."

"Me too," January admitted. "That's why it was the first story I put on Crow Tales. It has always been very personal for me."

January noticed that he was staring at her wrists. At the scars that crisscrossed her skin. She resisted the urge to pull back, and hide them. She had long since resolved to never do that again, to never be ashamed of herself again.

"So that's what you meant in the interview you did," he breathed, "when you talked about suicide."

January nodded. "We all have scars. Each one is a story about something that made us who and what we are."

"About that," Lucas began, "I do have scars, other scars. And I need to face them..."

"Does this have something to do with that man in the pictures?" January nodded to the one that looked like a family portrait. "The young one? Your brother, or cousin?"

"That was my baby brother, Marcus," Lucas' face turned sour. He did not say anything for a long time. January did speak. She was not going to press further. This was his story, he would tell it, or not, as he saw fit.

"He overdosed on fentanyl earlier this year." Lucas finally murmured. "I didn't even notice that he was using. I was so wrapped up in myself. I never thought that he was in pain too. That he needed an escape."

Now things clicked into place within January's head. Her first night as a cape, Gadget had told her that Lighthammer had only been active for a few months. He had said he was carrying out a one hammer war on drugs in and around Ohio. Since then Blood Raven had warned her that she suspected him to be motivated by passion, rather than principle.

"So that's why you suited up," January nodded. "That's why you've been... hammering."

"Yeah," Lucas scowled. He stared down at his plate, and pushed around his sausages with his fork. "I've been dealing with it, by not dealing with it."

"I hear you friend," January sighed. "I spent the first twelve years of my life not dealing with my life."

"It caught up with you though, didn't it," he stared down at the scars on her wrist. "Yeah, I get it now. I thought I could get payback. I thought I could make things right. But none of it brings Marcus back. None of it makes up for me not being there when he needed me. None of it stops it from happening to someone else's brother. I can't keep doing this. I have to change."

"You can stop," January reached out across the table, and laid a comforting hand over his. "Right now, just stop, and deal with yourself. The rest of the world can wait."

"It can't," Lucas recoiled, and pulled away. Then he shut his eyes, and put his hand back on her for a moment.

"I did not mean that to sound that way," he continued. "Working with you, and with Blood Raven, it's opened my eyes to a lot of things. It's made me see what I could be doing. Maybe what I should have been doing all along. But there's still a piece of unfinished business. I can't just walk away from it. I need you to talk to someone for me."

I’m so glad you decided to let us spend some time with Lucas the Lighthammer. Getting breakfast was a welcome bonus as the two superheroes get to know each other quite a bit better. Weaving Lucas’ aviation background into his affinity for flight was a great touch.

January is trusting her instincts opening up to Lucas and, from what I’ve seen so far, I think her instincts are right.

I hope I’m not off base here but, based on the context, I’m thinking the last line of this episode was spoken by January and the ‘someone’ she has in mind is Blood Raven – who knows something about living with regrets and ghosts from the past.


Nit?: ”I read your story was in the Crow Tales blog!”
- - I realize this is dialogue but the inclusion of ‘was’ seems unintentional?

I just made waffles the other morning. That's the only way to do it, with a real iron. None of this Eggo frozen nonsense (unless that's more convenient of course).

Yes it would be nice to change clothes on the fly. Cool. I like that they are getting to know each other and stuff. Let me finish this later... being interrupted.



How many others are there, Florens? In your imagination, are there dozens more across the globe? Hundreds?

It's sort of like when we watched the original Star Wars as kids. There's this sense that the world does not just end with the main characters, there are all sorts of droids and people who are in that movie who don't come near to playing starring roles, so there's this sense of the world being much bigger than it is.

Cool, this episode is great. Learning all sorts of new things about both of them.

I wonder if the rock star who bought it is Kid Rock. Pretty sure KR's up in Michigan, at least that's what my old boss told me.

Ah, so he learns her true identity.

He doesn't finish his breakfast. That's the second time I've noticed somebody not finishing their meal. At least they didn't get interrupted by their phones. Kidding. Sorry to hear about Hammer's brother. I wonder who she wants him to speak to at the end.



This post has been edited by Renee: May 17 2021, 01:09 PM

Acadian: I really enjoyed writing that "get to know you" scene between January and Lucas. It was nice to have these two supers with their hair down and just being normal.

That someone Lucas wants January to talk to was not Blood Raven. But it is linked to the fight at Cedar Point. Things will start to become clear next episode.

Thanks for the nit. That was a fragment left over from a previous revision.


Renee: I actually do the Eggo nonsense. Well, the Meijer no-brand Eggos. I don't have a waffle maker, and don't really want to spend the money on buying one, or take the time and trouble of making them from scratch and having all that clean up. It would be nice to have someone else do it though! Unlike me however, January does not mind any of that. Waffles are probably her favorite food. Well, up there with pizza and hot dogs.

I have not really thought how many meta-humans there are. Probably tens of thousands, or even millions worldwide. But very few of them would have the right kind of powers, and the right mindset, to become actual capes. Heroes or Villains. That is a great way to get killed after all. Most people would just live normal lives and use whatever abilities they have to make their lives easier. Some people go into the military and intelligence services in their respective nations. Like the Red Baron in WWI. Finally some people like January and Blood Raven strike out on their own as actual superheros. While some others take what looks like the easy path and become supervillains. Why work when you can rip the doors off bank vaults and take whatever you want? Or they lose their temper and unintentionally kill someone with their laser vision, and find themselves on the run afterward, with no other options but a life of crime.

Kid Rock was from Michigan, but I am pretty sure he moved out of state. But Lighthammer does not live in Michigan anyhow. He lives in Cleveland. I was thinking of someone like MC Hammer, who was rich, then lost everything.





* * *
Book 7.10 - Hammer Down
June 18

January finally winged her way home as the sun tentatively peeked over the horizon behind her. The fiery star spilled red and orange paint across Lake Erie. Those brilliant colors faded by the time January soared past the Renaissance Center, and were nearly gone when she darted through her bedroom window.

She heard steps in the hallway outside. A moment later there was a soft knock on the door.

"Honey, are you up yet?"

"Just waking up," January dove into her bed, and yanked the covers over her body. The door creaked as it slowly opened inward. That is when she realized that she was still in her Stormcrow armor. Frantically, she pulled her helmet off and drew the covers up to her neck.

Her mother poked her head into the room an instant later. Her features looked drawn. It was her serious face. The same face she had worn when she had told her about the divorce. January's stomach flopped. She had no idea what might be wrong, but she did not like the look of things at all.

"Come down when you are ready dear," her mother said. "We have to talk."

"Ok mom," January said. She waited for her mother to shut the door behind her before sliding out of bed. Her quick change reverted her attire back to her skater dress from the day before. She changed out of that and into a pair of black and white tights and a tee emblazoned with a raven, along with a quotation from Edgar Allan Poe's poem about the eponymous bird. She had showered before leaving Lighthammer's lair, so she had nothing to deal with on the hygiene front, aside from brushing her teeth and fussing with her hair for several minutes.

So it was not long after that she went down to the ground floor. The TV was set to Worldwide Network News. One of the anchors droned on about her home state's former US Senator Wade Harding's son: Aaron. Apparently the younger Harding was demanding that he be given his convicted father's seat in the Senate. He seemed to think that it was his right by birth. Apparently democracy was a foreign concept to his family, along with the law...

She was about to cut through the living room and make her way to the kitchen, when she noticed the boxes stacked up near the door. January recognized them as the same ones they had used to move out of the house in Warren.

She walked over, and that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach dropped away into a bottomless chasm. She flipped the lid on one box, and saw that it was filled with her mother's clothing. Another box possessed pots, pans, and dishes.

She just stood there and gaped. She knew what all this was. But her brain just could not process it. She could not process anything. None of it made sense. It was like the world had suddenly turned upside down, and January did not know what anything meant anymore.

"I'm sorry January," her mother Barbara's voice came out from behind her. "I have been trying to tell you for days now. But every time I tried, I just couldn't do it."

January turned around, to find her mother standing in the opening between the living room and kitchen.

"But, but..." All January could do was sputter.

"I have to move out." Barbara cautiously crossed the room. "I have to live in Warren for my job at the library. I never could have stayed here, not permanently."

"So you're leaving, alone." January had to fight to push the words past the lump that had formed in her throat. "I thought that we... that this past month..."

"This past month has been one of the best times of my life." January's mother laid her hands gently on January's shoulders. "In spite of everything with your father, and your brother, and the divorce, I will always cherish this time. It feels like I got my daughter back."

"But I never should have lost you in the first place," Barbara murmured. "I never realized it until I came back from my first meeting with my divorce lawyer. I've been lost for a long, long time honey. I just never knew it."

"When I was in college, I had all these dreams about the things I was going to do with my life." Barbara looked up, and a wistful expression crossed her ruddy features. January had the distinct impression that she was not seeing the ceiling at that moment. Rather she seemed to be flipping through the pages of her memory. "I was going to reach out to people. I was going to shape their lives for the better. I was going to change the world, one person at a time, one book at a time. I was going to bring the light of knowledge, and community, and joy to the world."

"But you did," January insisted. "Your job at the library... You don't just stack books on shelves. You're a part of the community. I've seen that first hand."

"I know," the red-haired woman nodded, "and in a way that is true. But I feel like I could be doing so much more. That I should be doing so much more. Stormcrow has shown me that. We can all be heroes in our own ways."

"I forgot that, a long time ago," she explained. "After I had your brother, and your father and I got married... I just fell into this life of work and home, and I stopped seeing beyond that. I've just been going through the motions of life, but not really living it. I didn't even see what was right in front of me all this time. It had to slap me in the face to wake me up."

"Do you... do you regret it, having me?" It took every ounce of willpower that January possessed to pry those words from her lips.

"What? No, of course not!" Barbara gasped in shock. That certainly appeared genuine to January's watery eyes. She leaned in close to hug January, and held on to her for long moments before she finally pulled away.

"Why would you even think that?" she asked. "Wait, is this about what you father said, about not getting an abortion?"

January did not say anything. She felt sick to her stomach. It took all of her will to keep her feet planted firmly on the floor, given how the entire world felt upside down.

"Oh honey, it's not what you think," Barbara explained. "When I was in my third year at MSU I did have an abortion. I had to. I never could have finished school - or had any kind of career - if I hadn't. Then years later when I was out of school I got hired at the library, and I found out I was pregnant again. I was worried they might fire me if I had the baby. But I went ahead and took the chance. I was lucky. I kept my job. A lot of women are not so fortunate."

"That was Julian," her mother went on. "I never regretted having him. Even though it looks like your father did. When I had you years later it was on purpose. I have never regretted that either. You are the best thing I have ever done in my life sweetheart, don't you ever forget that."

January felt tears spill down her cheeks. They were hot and salty against her lips. Her mother gently wiped them away, then ran her hands along her arms and shoulders.

"But that cannot be all there is to my life." Barbara turned away, and paced to the large picture window in front of the house. "I can't just live for my children, or my husband. I lost myself that way. I need to find what I need in life again, to be me again. I need to know who me really is. I think I need some space to do that, for a little while at least."

"And honestly, I think you need your space too January." She turned around to look back at January. "When I was your age, I was living at school in East Lansing. It was my first time on my own in my life, and it opened my eyes to so much of the world. I don't want to deprive you of that experience, of that freedom. Since we have moved here, you have really come into your own. It's like you've grown wings. I don't want to hold you down. I want you to fly, just like Stormcrow."

"Well, maybe not just like her," Barbara feigned shock and clutched at her breast. "You'd give your poor mom a heart attack. But you need to have a place in your life that is your own. I always thought you and Avery would be living together by now. But I guess he can't, with his grandmother's health and all..."

"I did ask him." January stared down at her feet.

"Well maybe you will have a girlfriend that will want to move in with you," Barbara said, "or a non-binary significant other."

January rolled her eyes at that. "Not any time soon," she breathed.

"Never say never," her mother disagreed. "Sean Connery did that, and he still made another Bond movie. There is nothing you cannot do January. Stormcrow has taught me that. We are limitless beings. Our actions create the world we live in."

January had no idea how to feel about that. As she had told Blood Raven, being a superhero had to be about more than just punching black hats. She had never imagined that her own mother would be one of the people she might inspire. That the inspiration was for her to leave, well that was a bitter pill indeed.

"So where are you going to?" January forced herself to be an adult. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Sometimes she was proud of it. But today maturity tasted like ashes.

"I found an apartment on 12 Mile, just back of Van Dyke," Barbara said. "It's not far from the civic center. I could probably walk there when the weather is nice."

"So, when do we start," January looked over at the boxes, and back to her mother.

"As soon as your aunt Branwen gets here," her mother said. "She said she would rent a truck."

Whoa, she fell asleep in her armor! Guess it happens to all of us at some point in our lives.

Uh oh. "We have to talk".



Hate that feeling. But maybe it's for the best. I mean, it's the opposite of teenagers moving away from their parents, I guess. Like, mom tells daughter it's because of her job, but maybe she also feels like she cramping January's style a bit or whatever, even though it sounds like this Witch House is huge.

Mom sounds really idealistic about her past. Almost like a hippy. Or somebody who takes up the cause with Greenpeace.



Whoa.

Okay, yep, there's the real reason. She wants to be her own person basically, now that she's divorced and has the chance. I must say Rosa, that I'm really glad mom is not being portrayed as some wimp who falls apart after she and her husband part ways/ And then all she does is cry and think about him, and try go get him back.

Omg mom mentions Stormcrow again. Yikezoid! Branwen is driving a truck over to help move. Phew.

------------------

Yes, I've done the Eggo thing myself here and there. Not Eggos, but a generic brand sold at my job. Okay, now I'm hungry, again.



Okay, so there is the possibility of there being quite a few metas, but not all of them know about it.That's a good point about most metas not knowing they have the Power. Or the correct mindset or opportunities to discover their power(s).

Not that I am even close to being a meta or a witch, but back when we were kids for instance, my brother and I did a few things which (looking back now) definitely seem to have tapped into some sort of unseen power. We made it rain a few times. Long story, but there was one time we even told our friends we could make it rain, and they didn't believe us. So we did our little thing, and it rained so hard that night, the power went out. Our friends were like NEVER do that again!

Thanks for setting me straight regarding the end of the previous episode. So it was Lighthammer still speaking, saying he had someone he wanted Jan to talk to.

*

The opening paragraph really shows how you can paint a scene with words when you choose to do so. It really gives the beginning of this episode a magical feeling.

Uh oh. Mom’s moving out to find her own way. I love that part of her inspiration to assert her own wings of freedom is, ironically, Stormcrow.

I had to chuckle when Mom mentioned Sean Connery making another Bond movie as I imagined Jan asking, “Sean Connery – did he play James Bond too?”

’But today maturity tasted like ashes.’
- - A powerfully evocative line indeed.

Always neat to be able to relate to characters and how they feel in a story. Seems like that might be harder to do in a superhero story, even if it isn't superpowered people in question. Of course, her specific situation is nothing like mine. But the whole having dreams and feeling like you weren't fulfilling or going to fulfill them is a crushing sentiment. I have felt that a lot. Sometimes I still feel that way.

******

Trying to catch up on what I can. I looked up Wade Harding to see if he was a real senator or one made for your story. Based on what I found, I guess he is just a character for your tale. But I did find out a couple of interesting facts that I did not already know about regarding President Warren Harding, whom Google search was inevitably going to think I meant.

I often think about if and when superheroes' real identities are revealed to the people closest to them in regular life. It's an interesting concept that seems to not get played with enough. I wonder what January's mother would think if she knew that the very superhero who inspired her was someone she gave birth to.

Renee: When I was writing the previous episode it also struck me that it was the opposite of the standard situation of the teenager moving out of the home. Which I found rather refreshing in a way. You don't see it that often.

I hate the wimpy, hysterical mom/wives you are referring to. That is the protagonist's girlfriend in pretty much every gangster movie ever made. I absolutely do not want to portray women that way. So it was important to me that January's Mom will be an important character, and a person in her own right. Her moving out is the beginning of a long journey for her, which will be a major part of Season 2 of the Stormcrow show.


Acadian: I was trying to think of a way to describe the sight of sunrise on Lake Erie, when the thought of putting in the terms of splashing color across the world came to me. I am glad it worked out.

I did love the irony that January's own drive to inspire people to be more is one of the things that is motivating her mother to move out.

So much of this story is about January growing up, even though she was always a very mature person to begin with. This was one of those times that being a grown-up was not much fun.


RaderOfTheLostArk: The only thing different about a superhero story, compared to any other, is that some of the characters can do amazing things. But in the realm of speculative fiction, that is not remarkable. I mean, Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan are a superheros, so are Indiana Jones and Lara Croft, or Jason Bourne. The same with the Champion of Cyrodiil, Neveraine, Dovahkin, an so on. Some are just more blatant about it than others. In the end, every good story is about people though. The rest is just window-dressing.

January's mother Barbara is an important character in the Stomcrow series. Not just because she is Jan's mom. This first season of Stormcrow is sort of her inciting incident to shake herself out of complacency, and seize her own destiny. It is a hard thing to realize that your dreams have fallen by the wayside. I am sorry you have to live with that.

I still do not know if Barbara will ever learn that her daughter is Stormcrow. She might. I know that in Season Two she will suspect it. But I have not decided how January will react. She might own up to it. Or she might ask a friend like Gola to impersonate Stormcrow in public, while she is in the same place as January. I will have to see how it plays out.

The disgraced Senator Wade Harding was absolutely inspired by Warren Harding. Or at least his name was. I wanted a good name for a corrupt politician. Harding really fit that bill, as his administration is a byword for corruption. His son - who will figure prominently in Season Two - is loosely based off of Aaron Schock. Aaron himself will have a confederate based on Jacob Wohl. I change the names of all so I don't get sued of course.



Michigan State Capitol

Dana Essen is based on RL Dana Nessel

Dana Essen (RL Dana Nessel)



Book 7.11 - Hammer Down
June 20

January stood beside the tall spire of the Michigan State Capitol Building. She grasped the slender needle of the finial with one hand, and only one of her feet was able to find purchase on a rounded bulge within the spire beneath her. Her other foot dangled freely in the air hundreds of feet from the earth below. She leaned out, and her wings flexed by reflex. The wind whistled around her, and January smiled. She never felt so alive as when she was high above the ground.

The Michigan State Capitol was a Gilded Age masterpiece of stone and marble. The tall, iron dome above which she perched was painted bright white, while the four story stone structure that supported it was a darker shade of tan. The two main wings of the building stretched to the north and south. While two smaller wings bumped out to the east and west. Massive skylights dotted their rooftops, along with ladders and little walkways to ease movement for workers atop the structure.

That was something January was growing accustomed to seeing. It seemed that these days she saw more of the tops of buildings than their interiors. That rooftop world could sometimes be a hidden environment all of its own, dotted with not only machinery, but even tiny little structures of their own for people to make use of.

January followed the small western section of the building, which she imagined was its rear. A vast parking lot stretched out beyond it, bisected by a red-flagged walkway that ran farther west. The sidewalk continued on past the lot, and crossed over a street that ran from north to south via a small bridge set at ground level. The red walk ran on through a tree-shaded plaza beyond that, which was surrounded by office buildings.

None of those were grand Neo-Classical masterpieces like the one atop which she perched. Instead they were dull rectangular structures of stone and brick, which January imagined housed armies of accountants and bureaucrats. Even farther in the distance the walkway continued through another parking lot. Beyond which rose the semi-circular stones of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and the arc-shaped Hall of Justice behind it.

Well dear subscribers, it seems the Motor City is in the news again. No, it wasn't giant spiders, or neo-Nazis. It was a podcast! By now we all know about Crow Tales, the literary blog put out by our finely feathered friend Stormcrow. But guess what your pal Gilda discovered today? There is now an unofficial companion podcast to go along with it! Okay, so the podcast is not created in the City on the Straits, or officially affiliated with our loveable corvid in any way. But their latest, special video edition did feature none other than local author January Ward. Her novelette This Spell for Hire was featured on Crow Tales a few weeks ago. So clearly Stormcrow is looking out for her peeps in her hometown. Maybe in the future we will be seeing more local talent featured on the show? In any case, be sure to bookmark, like, and subscribe this one.

January's inner capitalist could not repress a smile. That was the second time Gilda had said her name on her show. The first time had created a huge spike in her book sales. With any luck this would do the same, for both This Spell for Hire, and for Artemis Argent. She needed all the money she could get after all. Her bills, and college tuition, were not going to pay themselves, much less gender confirmation surgery. She still had no idea how she was going to pay for that.

January pushed those considerations from her mind. She was here on business after all. She brought up Sága with a voice command, and double-checked the address of her destination. Then her eyes gazed out across that ring of office buildings between the capitol building and the court house. She settled upon a thoroughly ordinary sandstone building among the cluster of government edifices, and nodded in satisfaction. That was where she needed to be.

She leaped out into space with a sideways somersault. Her wings snapped out fully once she was clear of the spire of the capitol dome. They caught up the sky underneath their hagfish feathers, and propelled her across the parking lot, toward the office buildings beyond. She passed by pedestrians here and there, some of whom looked up with surprise, or with phones already in hand.

January came down upon the red stones of the broad walkway in front of the office building. At least she guessed that it was the front. She did see a pair of double-glass doors set into the otherwise uniform row of windows that filled that face of the building. A row of trees set in upraised planters gave some life to the scene, as did a few scattered benches. People in suits moved to and fro, many carrying either briefcases or backpacks.

January brought up Sága once more and fired off a quick text to Duquesne, to let him know that she was there. Then she dutifully filed into the building behind the very professional-looking people. Some stopped to stare. But most simply raised a few eyebrows, or fought to contain smiles. At least until they saw her wings, and realized that they were not cosplay props, but rather real appendages.

She folded them upon her back so they would not get in the way. Clumsily knocking over every trash can in the lobby was not going to earn her any points. Nor would knocking people over. January saw a wide receptionist area ahead of her, and beside it a row of metal detectors manned by police officers.

"Wow you're, I mean, you're really her aren't you?" a young woman in a gray suit asked her.

"Yes I am," January answered. "Really me that is. I mean Stormcrow. I mean, well, you know."

January tried not to let her features show how flustered she suddenly felt. This was supposed to be easy by now. But somehow talking to people in groups never was. Blood Raven made it look so simple. She just overawed everyone so much with her foreboding presence that no one dared to speak with her. Somehow, January knew that was not the route she wanted to take however.

That brought more professional types flocking in. Suddenly everyone wanted to see her, and get a picture of her, and with her. As ever, January did her best to be friendly and accommodating. This was her chance to show that she was a nice person after all, rather than just a fist planted in an evil-doer's face.

"Ms. Crow," Duquesne's ever serious voice rang out across the lobby. "The attorney general is looking forward to meeting you."

January felt a curious sensation of relief at being saved from the Stormcrow fans, along with a new sense of tension. It was not every day that you met the top prosecutor in your entire state. Even ordinary lawyers were intimidating enough. Just a month ago, she could not have imagined such a thing.

But January was doing many things that she never would have imagined just a few months before. She stepped into this the same as every other first, with back straight and head held high.

"Good morning Mr. Duquesne," January forced a smile to her lips as she walked up to the Special Assistant AG. As ever, he was dressed in a dark suit, with a US flag pin on his tie, and sporting a dour expression on his perpetually lined features. His large frame had grown saggy in old age, but still hinted at muscle underneath. He struck January as being a boxer, or some other type of athlete, now faded into his golden years.

"Good morning Ms. Crow." Duquesne waved her past the metal detectors, and deeper into the hallways of the building. He took them to an elevator, which they boarded alone and rode to the top floor.

"You know you can just call me Stormcrow," January tried to break the awkward silence that filled every elevator trip.

"Perhaps Ms. Crow," he murmured.

"And perhaps I could call you Bill?" January offered. The older man simply stared back at her, face a stone. "Or William? Or maybe I'll just stick to Mr. Duquesne?"

It took forever for the elevator doors to open.

When they did Mr. Duquesne led her down a hallway that bustled with more professional people. They passed offices, conference rooms, a copy room, and other office facilities. At the very end of the hall Duquesne paused to knock on the last door. He opened it at the sound of a voice within, and motioned for January to enter.

She stepped inside, but Duquesne remained in the hall, and shut the door behind her. Within January found a simple office, with a wide black desk that sat in front of a pair of American flags. A long window took up one wall, giving her a view of the capitol building beyond.

January noted a coffee cup on the desk with a black cat that brandished a knife. "I am small and sensitive, but also fight me," was written across its side. Beside it were pictures of a blond woman and two young boys. January recognized the woman as the attorney general's wife. The picture of the two of them kissing on the night of her election was usually the first thing that came up when she did a search on the AG.

Sitting at the desk was the attorney general herself - Dana Essen. She tapped a final key on her laptop, then closed its screen. She was dressed in a dark blue suit jacket, with a lighter blue blouse underneath. A Star of David hung from a thin chain around her neck, and a simple wedding band graced her left hand.

She rose to her feet and brushed an errant lock of long raven black hair from her eyes. The light skin of her features was interrupted by laugh lines that creased either side of her thin lips. The smile that now created those lines was wide, and so far as January could tell, genuine. January took her outstretched hand with a smile of her own. But none of that kept her heart from doubling its beat, or a familiar feeling of tightness from forming within her chest. She was not here to fight. But that did not mean she lacked cause to feel nervous, as the darkening sky outside revealed. Not given what she was going to ask.

"I am so glad to finally meet you," the attorney general practically exploded. "Ever since your fight with Lighthammer in that hotel in Southfield, I have been following you. You are practically all anyone in the state talks about these days, especially since you came out. Congratulations on that by the way. I know exactly what that is like. Oh, I am gushing. I do that when I get excited."

"The pleasure is all mine, erm, your Excellency? Your General... ship?" January stammered. She had looked up the proper way of addressing an attorney general the night before. Honest. Of course now that she was standing right in front of one, she could not remember a word of it.

"It's 'the Honorable'." January could see that Essen was trying not to laugh. "Or just madam. But we don't have to be that formal. It really, really is good to meet you. My wife Anna is your biggest fan. She is going to be so jealous that I got to meet you and she didn't. Speaking of which, she wanted me to ask you something."

"Oh, anything," January replied. This was not going anywhere near how she expected talking to her state's attorney general would be. But she had to admit, that was not a bad thing.

"I hope this does not sound creepy, or exoticizing, because that is not the intent." January braced herself. She prayed that some form of transphobic spiel was not about to follow. Instead it was nothing so mundane.

"Anna wanted me to ask about your wings," the attorney general said. "You didn't have them at first. You had a wingsuit right? But now... well... there they are."

Essen emphasized her words by gesturing at the two jet black raven's wings that remained folded up on January's back.

"Oh, yes!" January smiled in her perky phone voice. Her wings stretched out, almost as if they knew they were being talked about. She let them flex gently, so as not to send the papers atop the attorney's desk flying in all directions.

"So she wanted to know, are they mechanical? Did your inventor friend Gadget build them?" Essen went on. "Or are they a part of you?"

"Yes," January answered with a short laugh.

"It's complicated," she went on. "I create them. I transform them from my cape. But they are a part of me. It took me a lot of time and practice, and pressing need, to learn how to do it. To be honest I'm still learning everything they can do. Everything I can do. In fact, I am not sure if I even need the cape to create them anymore. They are as much me as my arms or legs."

The latter idea had not even occurred to January until she put it into words. But now that she had, the thought would not be pushed from her mind. Did she really need to transform the cape? Or could she simply transform herself?

She took a deep breath, and took a moment to center herself. She felt her mana flow through her, and wash her clean like a cool mountain stream. Her elemental mantra ran through her mind, specifically the line relating to Fire. She focused on her wings, and directed her power there. Her will took hold of reality and remolded it into the image she desired.

Fire give me passion and energy. Transform me in the night sky.

The words turned around her in glowing golden script. Not in English, but in Elder Futhark. She closed her eyes, and felt the spell rise about her, changing her. Her wings felt, strange. They tingled. She felt... everything through them, in a way she never could before. It was as if they had always been numb, and now her circulation had finally been restored.

She heard a soft thump, and looked down to find her cape pooled around her ankles. Her wings, on the other hand, rose up around her in a glossy black majesty that she had never seen before. Before the wings had been of hagfish fibers, shaped like feathers. Now they were comprised of real feathers, soft as the down of any bird. January could feel the air from the vents wafting gently across them. She could feel the warmth in the room through them. She could feel her own fingers reach out to touch them. She could feel everything.

"Well that's new," was all January could breathe. But inside, she rejoiced. She could not wait to show Gadget this, or Blood Raven!

"Yes I am," January answered. "Really me that is. I mean Stormcrow. I mean, well, you know."
- - Haha! Jan has still to learn that sometimes ‘less is best’ and probably realizes she should have simply added a smile to her first utterance. This, combined with the awkward elevator ride really shows us how nervous she is. The darkening sky, once inside the AG office was a nice touch. And I was giggling as she fumbled to address the Honorable Excellencyship of Madam AG.

Blessedly, the AG seems quite the fan and well-skilled in putting nervous people at ease. It will no doubt be helpful to have the state's AG as an ally!

A wonderfully done development in the evolution of Jan’s wings!

That's a good point about her seeing the tops of buildings more often than their interiors. How very astute. I always love seeing the roofs of some skyscrapers in California, for instance, and they've got frickin' pools or cabanas way up there.

Gilda Gladfly again. I always imagine her voice as sort of edgy. She manages to catch our attention as we're in the middle of ironing clothes or whatever. Not at all like the hushed tones of the NPR folks featured a few chapters ago.

Yes, I was gonna ask how much she is making from her tales, because she is going to have to pay for student loans eventually since daddy probably won't do it, or maybe never did help her. And I assume Mom doesn't make enough money to support daughter fully if she's working at a library. I have no idea how much gender-changing costs, but I know it ain't cheap. And January does not seem the type to go flying off to Thailand or Mexico to try getting reduced costs there.



Lol.

Cripes, she's meeting the AG. Oh gosh, she really is awkward! Quite endearing though because of this, at least to me.




The Stormcrow Show.

This is good, mostly because I have been that woman, as well. Falling apart, waiting for that phone call from him, only to hear bad news (Oh by the way, I do have a wife...I thought you knew!) when it comes. Fortunately, all of that was in the past. Over time (especially as I got into my 30s) if dating was going badly, I began to just walk away, and not look back. So I can identify with Jan's mother doing the same.

Acadian: January's awkwardness is one of the things that I work on portraying, since it helps keep her down to earth and ordinary, in spite of the wings and lightning bolts.

This was a big step for Jan, meeting personally with the top prosecutor in her state. As she said, so far her "official" contacts are a very short list of people: Trooper Mercado, Mr. Duquesne, and The Sterling Police Chief. AG Essen is a big add to that list.

And finally Jan's wings reach their final evolution. Well, unless I get more ideas and maybe turn them into wings of pure energy of some form or another. When I started writing her, I never intended January to be such a wing-focused character. They were originally just a travel power meant to get her to where the stories were taking place. But since Crystal Death, I have found it more and more appropriate to focus on the wings, and her avian nature. Especially once she began using her wings to fight with.

With that in mind I have given more thought to January's helmet, and decided it is a winged valkyrie style affair, with the top half covered up, similar to how the old Viking goggle helmet looked.


Renee: When I am writing January's flight segments, I typically open up Google Maps and follow the route she takes. That way I can add in little details about what she sees. Thanks to that I am often looking down at rooftops myself. Sometimes I wish I had a drone, just to take some airborne pictures of the places she goes.

In my head I often hear Gilda talking with a 1920's radio announcer voice. But that would be totally off for a modern infotainment announcer. She is very much a tabloid style reporter, so I am sure her voice is catchy.

I do mention Jan's finances in next week's episode. I do not want to get in the weeds of specifics with it. I have come to find that being a little vague about amounts tends to work better than accounting for every dollar, at least when I can. That gives me more wiggle room. But suffice to say, Jan herself is definitely counting every penny. I don't see her ever being rich. Though her mother is going to get a pay raise at the end of Season Two. And of course Blood Raven has an unspecified amount of loot. Enough to own an entire skyscraper, among other things.





As I told Acadian, I have had some ideas on Jan's helmet. I can picture something like this as the base, only black, and without the spike on top.

Then add in the upper right helmet's goggles area built into the winged helmet above


David Bowie - We Can Be Heroes



Book 7.12 - Hammer Down
June 20


"Thank you," January looked back to Essen. "If we had not been talking just now, I might not have thought to even try that. Like I said, I am still learning a lot."

The other woman was at a loss for words. She just stood there and gaped for long moments. January was not sure what to say. She folded her wings up on her back, so they would not be so, overawing. Then she reached down to pick up her cape. She did not imagine that she would be needing it anymore.

"Here," she reached out with the cape and handed it to the attorney general. "This is a gift for your wife."

"But I couldn't..." she stammered, "I can't. It's your..."

"Sometimes I think I rely on gadgets too much," January said honestly. "I think I should be creating my own power from within instead. This is me moving forward, not losing something."

"Ok," the attorney general got out. "I think I can understand that. And thank you, for me, and for Anna. You have no idea how this will make her feel, or our kids. For the last few months you have been the hero our state has always needed."

"We can all be heroes," January said. "Even if just for one day."

"I always liked that song too..." Essen mused. She turned around, and laid the cape down upon her desk with reverence. However, when she turned back, a deep frown was etched across her features.

"I hate to say this, because I really like you," she continued gravely. "But I know why you are here, and I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint you."

"You know?" January's heart nearly stopped. Lighthammer was the only other person she had discussed it with. Not even Gadget knew that she was there, let alone Blood Raven.

"After William - Mr. Duquesne - spoke to me on Tuesday to arrange our meeting I met with Governor Whitaker. We had a long discussion. A very long one, and I assure you we do not take any of this lightly. We do not take you lightly. Nor are we ungrateful for everything you have done."

"As you know the state constitution grants me the right to appoint special agents with the powers of a peace officer." Essen summed up. "But we just think it is too early to grant you full, legal empowerment. There have been other capes who have appeared before, only to retire or disappear shortly afterward. We just think it would be prudent to wait until-"

She stopped when it was apparent that January was fighting to keep from laughing.

"That's not why I am here at all," she shook her head. "I don't care about that. Well that's not true, I do. But like you said, there is no hurry. So long as we can work together, it doesn't matter to me if I have a badge or not."

"It doesn't?" Essen stared back at her blankly. Then she gave out a huge sigh. "I mean, that is great. And of course we can! It is such a relief to have a cape who will walk through that door and just talk to me. Blood Raven has never done that with any of our AGs, ever."

"Well, she has her reasons," January tried not to scowl. She had read up about the '67 Uprising after she and Blood Raven had met with Isaac. A four year old girl had been killed with a heavy machine gun. All she had done to deserve that was walk in front of her window. Even though a National Guardsman had confessed to the shooting, nothing had ever been done about it. Less than a month later Blood Raven had made her first appearance in Detroit. It was not hard to see a direct line between those events, and where her disdain for law enforcement had originated.

"I just came here to ask you a favor," January pushed those thoughts from her mind. She had to focus on the present. "I need to meet with the Ohio attorney general, and soon, really soon. I didn't want to call him up out of the blue, or just show up on his doorstep. Trooper Mercado and Mr. Duquesne are the only legal types I know. So I was hoping you might set something up."

"This is about what happened Monday night at Cedar Point, isn't it?" Essen tilted her head, and narrowed her eyes in thought. She walked around to the other side of her desk, and tapped a button on her phone. "Get me AG Ost, tell him it's an emergency."

"Now what is this all about?" she looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"A ton of drugs is about to come into Ohio," January said. "I mean that literally. Lighthammer found out about it, and the cartel behind it tried to kill him. He has it all: the date, the location, everything. He wants to come in and talk about it. He wants to make a deal."

"What?" the attorney general stared back at January in amazement. "What are you even doing associating with someone like that? Do you know what kind of record he has? He's not as nice as you."

"I know he was there when I needed him at Motor City Pride." January set her hands onto her hips. "I know he's a big reason why I have these wings on my back, rather than just a wingsuit. I know he wants to do something more with his life than he is now. And I know I need to give him that chance."

"You really are as loyal as people say," Essen breathed. "I-"

"This is Attorney General Ost," a male voice rang out from a speaker on Essen's desk.

"Mr. Attorney General," Essen quickly changed gears. "This is Attorney General Essen. I have you on speakerphone in my office. With me is Stormcrow. She has something she needs to discuss with you."

"Right, and I've got Thunderbolt and Riven here too," the man's voice did not sound impressed.

"Mr. Ost, when it comes to thousands of pounds of drugs and a gang of assassins, I don't have a sense of humor." January stepped up to the desk to insure that her voice was clear. "I am Stormcrow, and I must speak with you in person. Now if you have something better to do, I'll just take it up with the FBI. Or maybe Lighthammer and I should just deal with this ourselves. Blood Raven would prefer it that way anyhow."

"Ok, you have my attention," the attorney general from Ohio sounded much more serious now. "What is this about assassins and drugs?"

January reiterated what she had just said to Essen. "Lighthammer wants to come in and make a deal with you on this. He wants full immunity for anything he may have done in the past. In return, he will lay the entire operation out for you. And he will be there to back you up for the takedown."

"That is a very big ask," Ost said plainly. "His record is... troublesome at best. How do I know he's not going to go back to his old ways? I am not going to throw around immunity for someone I'm going to have to turn around and prosecute a week later."

"He wants to put that behind him," January insisted. "I think those three assassins on the Valravn gave him a wakeup call. And I think he's finally coming to realize that what he has been doing has not made anything better. Not for him, or anyone else. He wants to be one of the good guys. He wants to work for you in fact."

"Work for me? Full legal empowerment? Now you are really asking for the moon," Ost scoffed.

"That is between you and him, and can come later, if at all," January said. "For now he wants to stand up for Ohio, just like he stood with me against those Nazis. Now do you want to make the largest drug bust in American history, or should I tell him we are going to handle it ourselves?"

"You've got my interest," Ohio's attorney general said. "Ok, meet with me in my office tomorrow morning, 9 am sharp. Bring Lighthammer, and all of his evidence. If there is something there, we'll work it out."

"Thank you Mr. Attorney General," January breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Oh, and you should bring in the feds too. FBI, DEA, I am not really sure who would be appropriate for something like this, but the more, the better."

"I will see that it's done." With that the line went dead with a loud buzz. Essen punched a button on her phone to cut off her side of the call as well.

"I don't like that man very much," January said sourly.

"Well, he does not grow on you," Essen said dryly. "I hope you know what you are doing."

"So do I," January breathed. She leaned back against the edge of Essen's desk. "I've come a long way from trading punches with Lighthammer in that hotel."

"That is for sure," Essen walked around and leaned up against the desk beside her. "Now you are his advocate."

"He's not the only one." January thought of Isaac, and even more recently Gola. "Sometimes we just need a second chance. None of us are perfect. We all make mistakes, and have things in our past we wish we could go back and change. But all we can do is carry the scars and learn from them."

"You know Crowgirl, you really are nothing like I expected," Essen said quietly. "I mean, you are exactly what I expected. I've seen the clips of you on the internet, and I read your literary blog every week. Anna and I watched your entire interview on Worldwide Network News a dozen times. It forms an idea of you. But the actual you, well is just so much more real than I ever anticipated. You're just a person aren't you? Just a regular person, with wings, doing the best you can."

"Yes," January admitted. "I'm not special. I put my armor on one leg at a time too. I just want to be there for other people, the way other people were there for me."

"Since I am putting all of my cards on the table, there is something else I need to tell you about." January went on to relate the full story behind the Summoner, Nátthrafn, and the Abyssal summonings. Well, nearly the full story. She left out the blood ties which she and Blood Raven had to Nátthrafn, and possibly the Summoner. The same with the fact that her family were suspects. In the end there was little to actually tell the attorney general. Just that the summonings were probably not over, and that she and Blood Raven were working on it.

"I appreciate you telling me this," Attorney General Essen replied. She reached into her desk and pulled out a business card, and scribbled on its back. Then she handed it to January. "This is my personal number. Call me anytime, about this, or anything else. I am always here to listen to you."

January reciprocated with her own number, and of course with a selfie with the attorney general. That seemed to be a tradition. Afterward the attorney general led her out by the roof, and January tried out her new - all natural - wings.

They were magnificent!

Ahah, so now we know who Lighthammer wanted Jan to speak to and about what.

"Mr. Ost, when it comes to thousands of pounds of drugs and a gang of assassins, I don't have a sense of humor." January stepped up to the desk to insure that her voice was clear. "I am Stormcrow, and I must speak with you in person. Now if you have something better to do, I'll just take it up with the FBI. Or maybe Lighthammer and I should just deal with this ourselves. Blood Raven would prefer it that way anyhow."
- - The endearing and awkward insecurities we saw from Jan last episode were dramatically replaced in this magnificent display of how she can really cut through the crap and take charge when needed. I wanted to cheer, ‘You go, Stormcrow!’

She is laying a lot of her own reputation on the line for Lighthammer. Not the least of which is a burgeoning genuine friendship with Essen that could prove to be very helpful in the future. Though nothing in life is certain, from what I’ve seen, I think Jan’s trust in Lighthammer is warranted.

Jan's evolution to real wings has been great. I also love your idea of a winged valkyrie helm for her.

Nit: ”Nor are we are ungrateful for everything you have done." - - delete the second 'are'.

That's a great Bowie song. Her helmet looks very ornamental, like something one of our DnD figurines would wear.



I hear her as one of those reporters from tabloid TV shows (like Hard Copy, when that was on) who speak a little too loud, because it's their job to catch our attention. Sort of like JoJo Siwa, but with a bit more discipline (don't click that link and have your headphones on full blast at the same time, lol)

Whoa, she just gave her cape away.

Nah, she's not there to get a badge. I could have told the AG that. Jan just doesn't seem the type. For one thing, with a badge comes accountability. Just imagine the paperwork she'd have to file! The lawyers she'd have to have, ready round-the-clock to explain somethings incidental which have nothing to do with her work as a superhero. Somebody's windshield shatters as she tries to exterminate a gigantic, astrally-arranged spider, yet SHE gets blamed. She'd also have to deal with warrants, I'd assume. She'd have to determine if probable cause rules apply instead of just going in some place where she heard a scream.

...and so on. Not that she isn't ever going to be held accountable on occasion (lawfully), but having a badge makes everything much more official. Just ask Jack Reacher.

Anyway, that's really cool Essen reads Jan's blog every week. She really has some friends in high places, then.



This has me thinking of that cowbell skit with what's-his-name. "I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like you guys. Only once my pants are on, I make gold records."

I can't believe I watched the whole slimy thing.

Acadian: We are getting back on track with the main plot, after our little diversion into Jan's personal life. Though there will be other diversions in the near future as well.

Jan can be very socially awkward. But when she is pushed, it is her reflex to push back harder. That was on full display when dealing with AG Ost.

Jan is indeed putting a lot on the line with Lighthammer, and with Gola, and with Isaac. She does that a lot.

Nit fixed. Thanks for finding that!


Renee: Jan is a superhero, so something a little showy feels right. Plus the wings on the helmet compliment her own wings kind of nicely.

Wow, JoJo is loud!

You are right, in that in the long run, Jan and a badge do not go together. Her goals and those of the police are not the same. The cops would have wanted Jan to arrest Lighthammer in the first book, Isaac in the second, and Gola in the most recent book. Obviously things Jan was unwilling to do. Plus another person next book. It will take Jan a while to accept that however.

Still, you are right, in that Jan is starting to make friends in high places. Who still might be able to help her in the future.


macole: Wow, I did not get nearly that far into that video. But I have little patience for YouTubers.





Book 7.13 - Hammer Down
June 21


January actually felt good as she flew through the sky. Since Gilda Gadfly had mentioned her appearance on the Crow Tales Podcast the previous morning, her book sales had skyrocketed. The same had happened the first time the super gossip reporter had name-dropped her, when talking about the Stormcrow created Crow Tales blog. Ravi from the Crow Tales Podcast had even messaged her, to tell her that her episode was by far their most downloaded one ever, even though he had only dropped it a few days before.

In the very least, this would pay her bills for a long time to come. She was lucky that Blood Raven was not charging her rent to live in the Witch House. But she still had utilities, food, and everything else in life to pay for. Plus somehow worry about school and gender confirmation surgery. Thank goodness she was still covered under her mother's medical plan, which at least paid for most of her hormone replacement therapy.

A glint of light to her left caught her eye. She turned her head that way, being careful to remain on course southward. A bright flash of white and silver resolved itself into the form of Lighthammer. The super vigilante quickly caught up with her, a grin etched upon his features. He even did a loop around her, showing off his years of flight experience.

She did not take the bait and attempt to match his moves. She had gained a lot of experience of her own in the sky lately. But on that score, he was still definitely the teacher and she the learner. Instead she concentrated on winging her way southward across central Ohio.

There was not much to see below. It was farms, followed by more farms, even more farms, and then just to break up the monotony, farms. Sometimes there were small towns of one or two streets. But mostly it was long stretches of quiet cornfields and pastureland.

It reminded her of Michigan. Once one left the sprawl of Metro Detroit, it was much the same in her home state. Just with more lakes, and in the winter, even more snow.

She made sure not to lose track of the road below her. It was her only way of reliably navigating. Well, aside from keeping the morning sun on her left shoulder. She had already been obliged to land and stop for directions at one mini-mart. She did not want to be late to her big law enforcement meeting because she got lost.

"Hey Crowgirl, you changed up your look didn't you?" Lighthammer shouted over the wind. They were both moving fast, faster than January had ever gone before. That was another pleasant side effect of her new - all natural - wings. Not only were they more sensitive and agile, they were also far more powerful.

"Let me guess, it's your hair," the sometimes partner continued. "No, still blonde. Did you do something to your wings? They look, shinier."

"I've had a makeover," January smiled back. She pushed her wings, and coaxed even more speed from them. It felt good, and still did not fatigue her at all. It was like running when you got into a good, solid groove. She knew that could lay on even more speed, if she really wanted to. But this was a steady pace she could keep up for hours.

"Well, whatever you did, it's working," Lighthammer declared. "Do you know how fast we are going? I am clocking us at 280 knots. That's faster than a civilian prop. One of these days you might even be as fast as me."

"Being... fast.... is not something most guys would boast about," January smiled.

"Oww!" Lighthammer made a show of pretending to wince. "I'm gonna need a fire extinguisher to put out that burn."

The farmlands began to transform themselves into civilization below. First it was a few small cities. Then it became a full-blown urban sprawl. A pair of rivers ran through the city streets and lawns, both running from north to south. Then the long runways of an airport stretched out ahead of her. Both she and Lighthammer swerved far out of their way to avoid possible aerial entanglements. He took the lead from this point on, and January was happy to follow. He certainly knew Ohio far better than she did.

He led her along the wider river on their right, down into the heart of what January was now sure was Columbus. There were golf courses, quarries, and miles and miles of suburbia. Then they came to the heart of downtown. It was a cluster of skyscrapers that rose up east of a sharp loop in the river. The banks of the water here were lined with bright green parks. Farther inland rose museums, theaters, and office buildings. Unlike Detroit, only a handful seemed to date back to the Art Deco era. Most appeared much newer, like the Modernist office tower that Lighthammer led them to.

Made of granite, it stood taller than every other building in the city. January guessed it must be at least forty stories, or taller. Like all office buildings, its walls were filled with rows of windows from top to bottom. January noted that the roof had a helipad built into it, marked out by a yellow square, with a smaller triangle painted within that. The usual array of rooftop machinery was tucked away into a depression to one side of the building, so it did not extend above the landing pad.

January saw several people waiting atop the roof. She circled once with Lighthammer, and used the time to throttle back her speed. Still, she came in faster than she would have liked. She was forced to beat her wings furiously to bring herself to a stop. In the meantime Lighthammer made it all seem incredibly easy, actually diving face down toward the roof, before pulling up in a loop at the last second, before landing gently upon his feet.

"Show off," January breathed quietly, too low for the others to hear.

"If you got it, flaunt it," Lighthammer grinned. January remembered those pictures of him from his home. He had worn that same grin in those pictures where he sat in the cockpit of his A-10 Warthog. Suddenly she did not mind him flaunting his skill. Clearly, flying was what brought him joy in life, just as it did for her. He deserved every ounce of happiness he could squeeze from it.

Four men wearing suits and dark sunglasses stepped up to them. January noted the bulges under their armpits, and the thick rolls of muscle in their exposed necks. They looked like professional wrestlers playing government agents. Then she noted the earpieces they each wore, and wondered if she had been correct on both counts.

A fifth person stepped up. This was a woman with long, jet black hair, and a prominent Roman nose. Like the others she wore a suit, but she carried a briefcase rather than a hidden gun. She brushed the hair from her eyes. A futile effort at their altitude, as the wind only blew it across her long features a moment later.

"Good morning." While the men spread out and stayed several paces back, she walked right up to January and Lighthammer. She extended her hand to shake with each of them in turn. "I am Assistant Attorney General Anaya Baqri. The attorney general and the others are looking forward to meeting you both."

She led them down into the building. As was her habit now, January did not dispel her wings, but rather folded them up on her back. The assistant AG could not help but stare. It was not a novel experience for January, though the reason for it this time was new. The thugs in suits did not look at them, but they did not look away either. They were statues, blending into the four corners of the elevator car, watching everything at once.

"It must be really something, to be able to fly. I mean, without an airplane." Baqri broke the long silence that had filled the air ever since they entered elevator. January had to admire her pluck. She was pretty sure that one of the laws of physics decreed that speaking in an elevator was impossible.

"It is," Lighthammer answered easily. "Nothing ever feels so free, and alive, as slipping the bonds of earth. If you'd ever like to give it a try..."

But the attorney was not looking at him. Her eyes seemed to be only for January. She was used to people staring at her in public. It was part of being a cape. But it was starting to feel more personal than that. The other woman did not have the disgusted sneer or aggressive posture of a transphobe. So she could not understand what the intense interest could be about.

Finally the door opened, breaking the uncomfortable moment. They were in motion once more, with Baqri taking the lead. The floor she led them onto looked much the same as the Michigan Attorney General's office space. January was starting to see that most offices tended to look the same: cubicles, conference rooms, copy stations, and coffee lounges.

"I think someone likes you," Lighthammer leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

January shook her head. Clearly he had been smoking the devil's lettuce. She had learned a long time ago that no matter how much she wished, women did not like her, at least not in that way.

Nice banter between Crowgirl and Lightdude enroute. Your level of research on Lighthammer’s USAF background is thorough and ‘real’ (knots vs mph, using the Warthog nickname for Lighthammer’s A-10 tank-killer). Speaking of knots, Jan’s keeping a good clip indeed with those new wings.

Both capes were true to their respective natures in this episode, even as you continue to develop each. Jan not taking the bait and not trying to show off her new wings too much was in keeping with her less flashy tendencies. On the other hand, Lighthammer’s flair for showing off a bit comes very natural to him. In fact, I was pleased to see Jan even support his flashier style now that she knows his background. Nicely done joint character building.

Interesting interaction with the assistant AG. I’m curious now if that will go anywhere.


Nit: ’Then it became a full-blow urban sprawl.’ I expect you meant full-blown.

I feel like she's on the verge of really breaking into true Fame points. Like, if her book sales continue to climb, and especially if somebody puts all the pieces together (January = Stormcrow) she could wind up being called to appear on Oprah or Ellen. Hmm. I think Ellen is getting passed on nowadays. But you know what I mean. Her fame could potentially become Fame.

I like how Hammer appears as a mere glint, first. Cripes, 280 knots = 322 mph!!!

Oh yeah, good point. So since Lighthammer flew planes in the past, in a way he is a little more comfortable with flying than she is.

Anaya Baqri.... sounds like she's of middle-eastern descent. Maybe I'm wrong. First impression, though.



Yes I am noticing this too. I'm not sure if I agree with the Hammer yet, but maybe she does at least admire the Crow as she struts up with her wings folded up.




She just came out, too. These generations coming up can just do this nowadays see, and it's not as big a deal as it was for Boomers and Gen X. But yes, as macole implies, she's totally annoying, but I also have to watch the whole thing (cringing at times, of course). Because how can somebody have that much energy???

This post has been edited by Renee: Jun 14 2021, 02:23 PM

Acadian: Jan's flight is knot something to sneeze at. Her increased flight capabilities will allow me to expand her area of operations in the future. I can see her going to the Caribbean in the near future, and Washington DC somewhere in the long term.

Lighthammer's Air Force background is something that heavily informs his character. He is a pilot, and loves to fly. I even got his callsign (Yard Sale) from a real bomber pilot's callsign.

I toyed with doing more with the AAG, but sadly, it just did not play out. At least not in this book. One never knows about the future however.

That was a full-blown nit, thank you for scoping it out for me.


Renee: January is getting some popularity as a writer now. Which thankfully is allowing her to support herself. Though not in any dramatic fashion. Stormcrow's fame is definitely up there, thanks to her coming out nationally. Now she just has to prove that she deserves it.

I looked up the fastest prop planes to get that 280 knots number. January's speed is improving, and will only get better as time goes on.

Anaya Baqri is indeed Middle Eastern. I forget exactly where I got it from, other than it is a common Arabic and Pakistani name.







Book 7.14 - Hammer Down
June 21


The attorney led them into a large conference room. Nearly a dozen men and women sat in office chairs around the long, oval table that took up its center. A projector sat at one end of the table, and a screen was pulled down across the wall in front of it. The seal of the State of Ohio took up another wall, and several large wipe boards graced the other two.

January recognized the Ohio Attorney General. She had looked him up the day before. He was a pale skinned, thick-set man in his middle years. His red hair was beginning to thin atop his head, and was going to gray in patches of his otherwise neat beard. He wore a dark suit with a bright red power tie, and a golden pin that looked like a miniature police badge was tacked to his lapel.

He stood up as they entered. At a nod from him, the four armed men turned around and left. January imagined that they would be waiting just outside. Assistant Attorney General Baqri remained however, and quietly took a seat at the nearest end of the table.

Her boss did not walk over to greet them, or smile. Granted, he did not spit or glower at them either. Rather he appraised each with a cool, calculating stare, before he finally spoke.

"I am Dale Ost, AG of Ohio," he finally said. Then he nodded to the man who sat beside him. He wore what looked like a military uniform, and sat straight as a ramrod in his chair. He was clean-shaven, and his golden brown skin was marred by a few small scars on his chin. He wore a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and was also in his middle years. Unlike Ost, his frame was lean and solid. He smiled back at January, and its infectious good will practically lit up the room. On one hand his military bearing was exactly what she expected from a top cop. But on the other hand, he looked far too kind and friendly for that role.

"This is Colonel Riker Farmborow," the Attorney General said, "the Superintendent of the Ohio State Highway Patrol."

Ost then gestured to the others sitting around the table. "Also with us are representatives of the FBI, DEA, and ICE."

"Hi!" January tried to rein in her perky greeting voice. She really did. It went as well as it usually did. Aside from the Colonel's friendly grin, the stony faces that stared back at her helped to curb her enthusiasm. When she spoke again, it was in a more subdued tone. "Well, you all know who we are."

"We're here because of me," Lighthammer stepped forward. "I want to go legit, completely above-board. I'm not asking for anything like full, legal empowerment. But the fact is, the gray hat life is not for me. I know some of you people think I belong in prison. Well, I dunno, maybe I do. But I have something to deal with, and I think it is more than worth your while."

"The AG said you had intel on a major drug shipment coming into Ohio." A slender man with a bearded face spoke up. "Sorry, I'm Special Agent Jack Ortiz, FBI."

"I have it all here," Lighthammer produced a thumb drive and held it up to the air. "At least two thousand pounds of heroin is on its way here from Africa. It will be coming in any day now. I have the time, and place, and a good idea of who will be guarding it."

"How did you come by this intelligence?" a woman in a suit spoke up. "Andrea Jackson, DEA. We've been watching the drug scene in Ohio intently. It's been chaos here since the Mexican cartels had their back broken earlier this year."

"Yes," Lighthammer stood a little straighter. "That was me. The trouble is, once the Mexicans were out of the way, the Dominicans and Jamaicans moved in to fill the void. Now they are out of the way too. But there is an East African cartel looking to break into the gap. They've been running tests for the last month, and reaching out to the dealers from the older cartels. They've got most of them lined up now. They just need to supply enough product for them all."

"And that is where this shipment comes in then?" A third person spoke up. This was a tall, pale man. Clean-shaven, he wore round, wire-rimmed glasses, and looked more like an accountant than a federal agent. "Oh, I'm Graham Hicks, Immigration and Customs Enforcement."

"That is where this shipment comes in," Lighthammer explained. "They are going to flood the market. It will drive the prices down. But it will also put the dealers who don't sign up with them out of business. They won't be able to compete. In a few months, they will own it all, from Cleveland to Cincinnati."

"Alright, show us what you have," AG Ost said.

"First, I want immunity," Lighthammer insisted. "No prosecution, for anything."

"Son, if this is what you say it is, that's a done deal, you have my word," the attorney general declared.

"A'ight," Lighthammer said. "That's good enough for me."

He walked around the table, and handed the thumb drive to the AG. The older man sat down and plugged it into his laptop. Well he tried to at least. No USB stick ever worked the first time after all. Then after a few minutes of fighting with the software for the projector, the AG had its contents splashed across the wall.

"The MSC Guyane is a container ship out of Mombasa, Kenya," Lighthammer explained. "It is due to dock in Cleveland on Tuesday, the 25th. On board it contains at least two thousand pounds of heroin. All of it is all locked away in a shipping container, one of thousands just like it on the ship."

"Now I see," the DEA agent nodded her head. "With all the conflict in the West Asia this past decade, the old Balkan Route has been severely curtailed. Now opiates from Afghanistan have turned to the Southern Route. It is moved south through Pakistan and Iran, and from there goes out on ships. Some goes to East Asia and Oceania. But most goes to East Africa, namely Mombasa. It is now the second largest drug trafficking hub in the world. From there those drugs go to other parts of Africa, or up into Europe. It was only a matter of time before someone there tried to open up new markets in North America."

"This is being spearheaded by Ahkash family," Lighthammer said. "One of many drug cartels based in Kenya. They have fingers all the way from the poppy fields in Afghanistan to Africa, France, the UK, and now Cleveland. They hired three assassins to take me out. They nearly succeeded Monday night, but they missed. I guarantee that we will be facing them when we take the ship."

"That was what Cedar Point was all about," the assistant attorney general mused from where she sat beside January. "We had been wondering about that."

"I can provide some intel on these individuals." A blonde woman who had been previously silent spoke up with a strong French accent. Her hair was cut short in a pixie hairstyle, and she wore a black suit that looked sharper than a razor blade. January had to fight not to stare. To say that she was easy on the eyes was an understatement.

"I am Isabelle Moulin, from Interpol." She tapped her phone, then looked to the Ohio AG. "I have just sent you the relevant files."

The attorney general brought up the first of the dossiers. This one was of the long haired sniper, who January had thought wore a suit of roughly-shaped powered armor. She was surprised to find out what it really was.

"This is Crosshair," the Interpol agent declared. "He is a technomorph. As near as we can tell, he does not wear a mechanical suit. Rather all of this gear literally grows from his body. He can seemingly create whatever he desires from it, from guns to phones to x-ray viewers. We believe his real name is Fawad Khan, though that might just be an alias. He is a mercenary from Pakistan. For the past four years he has been working for an Afghan cartel."

"The next is Sludge." Now the projector brought up a picture of the goopy, plastic-like man January had encountered atop the Valravn. "He can stretch and mold his body at will. He can seep under the crack in a door, form himself into a parachute, even increase his size. He might even be able to mimic specific individuals. He also appears to be able to regenerate from any physical injury. So don't waste your time shooting him, or punching him, it won't do a thing."

"Yeah," January mused. "I cut his arm off at Cedar Point. It just flowed right back into his body."

That brought some looks of respect around the table. She was not sure what they had thought of her before. But now at least they appeared to be taking her seriously.

"Finally there is Obsidian," the Interpol agent went on. Now a picture of a tall, muscular African came up. January instantly recognized him as the Man in Black who had punched the stuffing out of her. "He is Jaali Odhiambo, a Kenyan by birth, and assassin for the Ahkash family. He has a long record in Africa and Asia. He is strong, extraordinary so, and appears to be entirely immune to all physical attacks. So again, don't bother shooting him. In fact, it is possible that he absorbs kinetic energy, making him stronger every time he is struck."

January thought about that. Two of them were immune to physical attacks, and the third was a sniper. They were an ideal counter to someone like Lighthammer. His hard light was kinetic energy, rather than thermal like a regular laser. The sniper could shoot him down if he tried to fly, while the other two were completely immune to his abilities.

"I don't want to be Johnny Killjoy, but this could get real ugly, real fast," the FBI agent said. "These three are going to be extremely difficult. All of our meta assets are currently tied up on other missions. We won't be able to shake anything loose in time."

"The Sentinels?" The ICE agent put out.

"We don't recognize them in Ohio anymore," the attorney general frowned. "Not since that incident in Dayton."

"Well that was hardly their fault," Agent Jackson of the DEA spoke up.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was," Colonel Farmborow shook his head. "Someone had to take the blame, and it wasn't going to be the governor."

"Did we turn invisible?" January stood up. The table full of law enforcement agents all turned their heads to stare at her and Lighthammer. "We are in this, to the end."

"You too, Stormcrow?" The Ohio State Highway Patrol's Superintendent raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you were just here to make an introduction. Or was I incorrect?"

"You were incorrect," January insisted. Well, of course he was not. January had never intended to add more than moral support. But she could never just sit by while Lighthammer took on three very scary assassins all by his lonesome.

"What about Blood Raven?" Special Agent Ortiz asked. There was no mistaking the eagerness in his voice.

"She will be sitting this one out," January scowled. "We have another investigation we are working in Michigan right now."

Blood Raven had already made it quite clear that she wanted no part of Lighthammer's drug war, his aid at Motor City Pride notwithstanding. And Ryo was just not ready for something like this. It was too soon, for anyone. She never could have faced something like this her first real time out.

"The two of us can handle this," Lighthammer insisted. "I wasn't ready for them the last time. Now I am. We have more than one trick up our sleeves."

January saw that they were looking at her now.

"I have fought mercenaries, robots, and Nazis," January declared. To underscore her words, lightning cracked loudly somewhere outside of the building, and caused the lights to flicker through the conference room. "I have faced down a nightmare from beyond this world, and I destroyed it. If these creatures dare cross us, I will smite their ruin upon the... well... dockside."

"I kind of lost that in the end there didn't I?" she whispered to Lighthammer.

"Maybe just a bit," he shrugged.

"Okay, let's be real," AG Ost stood up. "There is no way in hell that we are going to just sit back and twiddle our thumbs while a literal ton of drugs comes into Cleveland. Let's make this happen people."

A nicely presented meeting with a well-developed and plausible threat – both from the drugs and the trio guarding them. The Interpol Pixie fills in some sobering details as to the challenge they face.

You shed some nice light on the fact that there are white hats who work with authorities. . . and black hats who are just as daunting on the other side of the law. I imagine that the best way to thwart bad capes is with good capes.

No surprise that Stormcrow is all in for this. The lightning and her hero-epic words were nice touches – even as she pokes fun at herself for the dramatic flair.