Renee: Blood Raven has been around long enough to have made a lot of mistakes in life, and learned from them. There is an old saying that goes: "Good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgement." Blood Raven has a lot of experience.

I have the same feelings about elves in the ES universe. They are supposedly centuries old, but not only act like they are 19, they are also still first level when they are a hundred years old. I realize that is because the game designers want to keep the races balanced, but it does kind of ruin the suspension of disbelief when you think about it too much.

I had to look it up to find out that there were crows in the Caribbean. Europe has them too of course. Theirs actually have some white in their feathers, instead of being all black. That surprised me.


Acadian: I got the idea for the crow riding on January's back after seeing pics of crows (I think) doing the same thing on the back of eagles in flight. They literally hitch a ride on larger birds at times.

January's Thalassaphobia was something I worked in to help show that in spite of being super, she is still human. Those wide open spaces of nothing, and fathomless depths of utter blackness creep her out on some basic level. Me too to be honest.

Once again, thanks for finding that nit for me to fix.



WellTemperedClavier: I developed all those same skills as January in reading tiny changes of expression in people's faces and body language. It is just a necessary part of living when you are a queer person.

January's coming out publicly was something I planned on. It is all part of her being a part of the world, in a way that Blood Raven is not. In so many queer stories that is the end of their tale. As if life suddenly ends when you come out and/or transition. I deliberately set it to happen in a 'middle' story like this one, because it is just one event in January's life. One step in her learning what kind of cape she is going to be.

I do know about Octavia Butler. When I originally named the reporter, it was based on Octavia Spencer the actress. I changed her last name, as I usually do when I create a fictional character based on a real person. I am not sure where I got the name Butler. It just popped in my head. Then later I was looking through my library, and saw my Octavia Butler books. So I think I deliberately unconsciously named her after RL Octavia Butler. I leave it that way because she was rad as hell. It's my homage to her.

January's empathy and shying from retributive justice are one of the places where she and I are not alike. There is a lot of me in January to be sure. But not that. I am a lot more bloodthirsty myself. It's a good thing I am not a world leader, because if I was, everyone on the planet would be dead. January OTOH, is based on other fictional and real young people who are much kinder and more forgiving than I am. She is a person who wants to give people the opportunity to be the best version of themselves. Second chances are very important to her. As a suicide survivor, January has had a second chance herself. So it is a very personal conviction of hers. Actually Supergirl (from the recent TV show) is one of my inspirations for January, especially when it comes to empathy.

It is actually one of the things that I enjoy the most about writing January. She is definitely my favorite fictional character, because she is a much kinder and more empathetic than I am. It always puts me in a good head space when I write her. When I play versions of her in video games, I often class her as a Paladin. She is just so darn nice.






Mr. Blackwood

Frostbite

T54/55 Tank



Book 9.8 - Ashes

She felt the newcomers in astral space before she heard them. It was a man and a woman, striding from one of the other buildings. Both had the bright, but otherwise colorless auras of meta-humans. The aura of the man felt strong in the astral, but the body that underlay it felt old and frail. The woman on the other hand, was a balance of strength and vitality in both the physical and astral worlds.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the darling of the media," the woman said in a thick Eastern European accent. "I am surprised that you have time between all your press appearances to come here."

January opened her eyes, and deliberately took her time easing out of astral space and purely back into the physical world. She bent and let the momentum take her through a forward roll, with her legs still spread at a ninety degree angle to her torso. She finally brought them in at the end of the somersault, and bounced to her feet. She turned to face the pair, and forced a smile to her lips.

She already knew Mr. Blackwood from the video conference of course. He was a slender, older man, with curly brown hair now gone to gray at his temples. His wire framed glasses sat upon a nose as straight as a ruler. As before, he wore a suit that was absolutely impeccable in style. The creases were so sharp and clear that January imagined that Jean-Paul might be able to use them to slice mangoes. The orange flower pinned to his lapel did soften his look however, as did the multicolored tie that he wore.

Beside him walked a woman who was taller than either him or January, much more so in fact. She was built like a T-55 tank: a combination of smooth curves and brute power. As an athlete, that was something January admired. She liked a woman who was put together. She wore a white, blue, and purple suit that was obviously of Mr. Blackwood's design. Her snow white hair was tied back in a single braid behind her head, and her face was obscured by a cowl that left only her eyes and lips bare.

"Mr. Blackwood," January finally said. "Perhaps you should remind Jean-Paul that it is time to take out the trash."

January had to fight not to show her own surprise at her words. Where had that display of wit come from? It was not like she good at coming up with snappy one-liners after all.

"Maybe you'd like me to take you out." The snow-maned woman declared. She loudly smacked a fist into the open palm of her other hand, and grinned wolfishly.

"If you weren't such a bitch, yeah, I'd love to go out with you," January said honestly.

"Ladies, ladies," Mr. Blackwood held up his open hands in a gesture of peace. "Let's not get off to a frosty start. This is neutral ground. Whatever disagreements you may have, or intend to have, they do not take place here."

"Oh, I am not disagreeable," the white-haired woman smiled again, her eyes still locked upon January. "Come to Poland little bird, I will teach you to dance the mazurka. It will be... fun."

A layer of frost broke out across her features, and then the rest of her body. In moments it completely engulfed her in a blanket of thick ice. She turned her head up, and shot into the air upon a rising pillar of frozen water. The ice arced up and over the buildings of the estate, only to dip down back to earth somewhere out of sight beyond.

Jean-Paul appeared from nowhere, and threw his hands up in disgust at the sight of the giant arch of ice that crossed the estate. "When that melts, there shall be water everywhere!" he groaned.

"You do business with someone like Frostbite?" January turned to Mr. Blackwood with a raised eyebrow. "You know she's a supervillain right?"

"Yes, I am quite aware," Blackwood replied. "But I don't judge. At least I try not to. I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of it. As a wise man once said, many things in life are dependent upon one's point of view. You know, some people consider you to be a villain."

"Point of view?" January replied incredulously. "Am I a villain in your point of view?"

"Oh bollocks no!" Mr. Blackwood insisted. "It makes an old queen like me proud to see a queer person so out and about and in public. That's why I wanted to make you fabulous. We have a reputation for being stylish you know."

As if to underscore his words, he took a moment to straighten his already impeccable tie.

"Now let's crack on, and I'll show you what I did make for you, as decidedly un-fabulous as it is."

January followed in silence as the older man led her past the pillar of ice that now sat in front of the main house. She was not sure what to think as he took her around the house and down a stone path lined with tropical flowers. He must have sensed her disturbance, for he soon spoke to what she was feeling.

"It bothers you that I create attire for both sides, doesn't it?" Blackwood sighed. "Yes, I understand. I didn't when I started all this. I was scrupulously moral, or at least I thought I was. But a funny thing happened. I found that some of the people I worked for were only heroes because I agreed with what they were doing. Like that young chap who fights for Hong Kong's independence, or that other fellow who sinks shark-finning ships. To over a billion people in the world, they are supervillains. I found that the longer I live, the more and more murky some of these distinctions become."

"So you got old and jaded is what you were saying," January decried with all the certainty of youth. Even as she said it, she knew she was being sanctimonious. But it did not change how brightly her heart blazed with the certainty of what was right and what was wrong.

"How many villains have you let go, or worked side by side with?" Mr. Blackwood replied gently, "such as your friend Lighthammer, or Hungry Ghost?"

"That's different," January felt her skin flush, and her heart quickened its pace. "They..."

"I know," Mr. Blackwood cut her off, his voice still gentle. "I am not arguing with you. That's the point. I am not here to foster an antagonistic relationship with you, or Frostbite, or anyone else. I have a gift, and it is not in picking fights. It's why I don't make weapons. I wouldn't know how."

"I-" January opened her mouth, then shut it again without saying anything more. She could see his point. She played it fast and loose with the law herself. But that did not change the fact that she knew what was right. If he wanted to be the Switzerland of the super world, what business of hers was it to tell him he should not?

The Frostbite pic is sending me to imgur’s malfunction screen.

’I am surprised that you have time between all your press appearances to come here."
Didn’t know a thing about this woman but this quite concisely told me a great deal – and none of it good. I was both impressed by Jan’s quick-witted reply and the aggressiveness of it until it became clear that this other woman was not only snarkily rude but a black hat super as well that Jan was somewhat familiar with.

What followed was a well-done dialogue between Jan and her host. Each makes valid points from their perspectives and, I suspect they both learned a little in the process of their ‘debate’. It is clear to me that Jan and her crew are ‘Chaotic Good’, and she is right in not apologizing for it.


Nit: ”…or that other fellow who sinks shark-fin{n}ing ships.”

Ok, give that pic a try now. The first time I linked to where it was saved in my favorites, which apparently is why it did not work. This is the original link now.

Yep, works fine now.

Is that Michael Caine? I think so. We've had this conversation awhile back. For awhile, it seemed Caine was in every other movie.

Good gosh this lady with the weird suit is a b1tch. So she is Frostbite. And by 'neutral ground', Blackwood really means neutral. Blackwood seems as though he's only there conducting business, right? There will be no fighting on his grounds (although mighty displays of warning magic are okay).

I like the "fellow who sinks shark-finning ships." Wish that meta were real.

The long weekend gave me time to finish Book 7.

I quite like Lighthammer! He's very pragmatic in comparison to Blood Raven's mysticism or Stormcrow's idealism. As such, he's both complementary and a contrast to the other heroes. There's also a strong sense of him having a life of his own. He moves in his own circles.

For what it's worth, I largely agree with Blood Raven in regards to the War on Drugs. But I can see Stormcrow's angle on this. It definitely seems like Detroit could use an equivalent to the Sentinels (particularly with the Summoner's shadow growing), and that does mean working with the powers-that-be. Lighthammer's vendetta is a personal one--and somewhat on the questionable side--but I get why he does that.

Also nice to see Ryo step up. Blood Raven did have a good point about the sword (which I think indicates Ryo would be descended from a samurai family--unless his ancestors had the sword illegally) being too much of a marker.

Seems like January's career is really taking off. Hopefully that'll give her a more solid financial foundation. While her mother moving was hard, I think she's left January in a pretty good place, all things considered. The first interview was painful due to the transphobe on the other end, but the second one seems to have gone well. Also, her city of Veia gives me a bit of a First Pocket Guide to the Empire version of Cyrodiil vibe

This post has been edited by WellTemperedClavier: Mar 31 2024, 12:42 AM

Acadian: I wanted Frostbite to come across as thoroughly unpleasant from the start. I also wanted to show some of the backlash that inevitably comes from being in news, such as being accused of seeking publicity for its own sake. But mostly I just wanted it to be plain that Frostbite was a bad person.

I am not sure what alignment January is. I never really liked how that worked. January herself seems to always end up Lawful Good in every crpg because of her actions. But she really does not care much about what the law or tradition says. She knows all to well that laws are often merely the pretexts that oppressors create in order to marginalize and dehumanize their victims. She just does what she thinks is right.


Renee: That is Michael Caine. He has been in every movie!

Yes, Blackwood means it when he says his place is neutral ground. He makes suits for everyone. But he's not going to tolerate people slugging it out in his house. As January noted, he is Switzerland.

I wish the anti-shark fin guy was real too...


WellTemperedClavier: Wow, you have been on a tear!

I enjoy writing Lighthammer. He not only has a good power set, that I think would be fun to play in an RPG, but he is an ordinary guy. He's not a magical warrior-monk-poet like January, or a metaphorical goddess of magic and death like Blood Raven. He is constantly thinking "Life sure got weird since I met Stormcrow" His own meta-human powers aside, he is still a dude who likes hanging out at the bar and watching basketball with his buds, tries to avoid drama with whatever girlfriend he happens to be dating at the time, eats dinner with Ma and Pa every Sunday night, etc... He's just, normal, which is very refreshing with all the magical weirdness that otherwise packs these stories.

Blood Raven was alive during Prohibition. So she remembers how it not only did nothing to slow down alcohol consumption, but also turned the Mafia into a powerhouse. History may not exactly repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.

That is great to hear about Ryo. Having representation - of everyone - is important to me. Both because I know what is is like to never see people like myself in movies or TV shows (except when they want a monster to kill). And also because, like, reality. The real world is a rainbow of diversity. I would like everyone to feel seen when reading my work.

Ryo himself is 5th Generation Japanese-American. His family came to the US around 1900 or so. First to California. They were interred in WW2, and lost everything. After that they moved to Detroit for work (probably in the auto industry, but I never worked out the deets). Before that they came from the Iga region of Japan (the heart of ninja country.).

I have never worked out the details on where that family sword came from, except his family had it since before they came to America. They might be from one of those rare samurai-ninja families like that of Hattori Hanzō, and their sword might go back to some ancestor in the Warring States period. Or it might be one of those kyū guntō from the post Meji Restoration, when officers in the army were issued katanas.

January is starting to have an actual career (outside of superheroing). That is going to have its ups and downs in the future of course. But mostly ups.

Veia is one of the locations I created for Seven Reimagined. It is a crossroads city, not important because it is somewhere special, but because it leads to everywhere special. So people from all over the world are constantly moving through there. Sort of like Constantinople. Since January is an writer, I decided that that story and those characters are hers. I imagine sometime in the far future, maybe season 3 or 4, she will go on a cross-multiverse adventure in which she will be physically transported there, and will meet her characters and take part in an adventure with them. In between going to other universes as well.






The Bob Ross Painting in question


Zero from Code Geass

Strike Witches

Nine Days Chakra Mode from Naruto




Book 9.9 - Ashes

He led her into another building, again built in a distinctly Japanese flavor. It had a high ceiling like the other structures, and the single room within lent it an impression of great space. She could not even imagine the kinds of woods that were used in the construction. But she did recognize a sweet whiff of cedar.

Several long tables ran the center of the room. The rest of the space was packed wall to wall with racks of varying materials. Some were ordinary cloth, like cotton or wool. Others were more enigmatic, and January imagined they might be armored materials such as kevlar or dragon silk. Ingots of various metals were stacked in places, and a cluster of bowls revealed a wealth of rough, uncut gemstones and other bits and bobs.

"This is what I do," Blackwood waved his hands about to show off the workroom. "I create art. Even if what I have created for you is not exactly a masterpiece. More like a Bob Ross."

"Hey, I like Bob Ross!" January insisted.

"As do I!" Mr. Blackwood laughed. He pointed to a canvas on the wall. It depicted a snowy mountain in the background, wreathed in an icy blue aurora. In the foreground lay a frozen lake, and snow-covered cabin. It was simple and beautiful, much like the man who had painted it.

January felt a chill just looking at the wintry scene, which was so different from everything in the tropical paradise around her. She wondered if that was why Blackwood had that particular picture. It was not like he was ever going to see snow in the Virgin Islands.

"Is that an original?" January gaped. She had never owned an original anything. Except for some of the sketches that Rus had sometimes given her. Prints and posters were the nearest she ever got to owning actual artwork.

"I purchased it from his production company after he passed," Blackwood said, the pride clear in his voice. "Did you know that for every episode of his show on the telly, he painted three versions of the same artwork - one before the show, one during it, and one after? He was a man who saw what he wanted and just went and did it. He did not procrastinate or vacillate. He simply got it done. I think you share that with him. For my part, I tend to try so hard to be perfect that I nitpick every little thing. Sometimes it can take me forever to actually finish. He reminds me to crack on and do it, and that mistakes are simply happy accidents."

Suddenly Blackwood did not feel like a super icon, the glitzy fashion designer to superhuman heroes and foes. Rather he was plainly revealed to be just a man, albeit one with artistic vision. If not for the tropical mansion, he could be any struggling artist with a paint board and easel, or sewing machine and sketchpad.

"Now, I do have something for you." Blackwood stepped over to one wall and typed upon a keypad there. Then he pressed his thumb against its small screen. With that a section of the ceiling split apart above him. A moment later a metal platform lowered itself down from the opening created overhead. It was ringed by a safety rail with a fine mesh that would prevent small objects from falling off. The old man stepped aboard, and gestured for her to join him.

January moved beside him, and they rode the secret elevator up to the second floor of the building. Within lay a forest of mannequins. But these were not the kind she was used to seeing in a store. Instead they appeared to be 3D printed, and each was unique. They were different sizes, different shapes, different sexes, and the like. Each was attached to a small metal base labeled with a barcode and a name. She recognized many of the latter: The Veil, Stinger, White Fell, Thunderbolt, Riven, and so on.

They were all superheroes.

Blackwood led her to one of the mannequins. This one was fully clad in black armor. Her armor. It was an exact duplicate. January could barely discern a difference between the suit she wore, and the one staring back at her from the mannequin labeled with her name.

"I use the remotes I give my customers to create these models," Mr. Blackwood explained. "That allows me to fit the finished product to them. But since the way one's attire lays can differ from how one is formed, I shall direct you to our fitting room. Then I can make any final alterations as required."

The meta-designer pressed a foot down on the base of the mannequin. The platform it stood upon hummed to life, and rose up a few inches in the air. Taking the dummy in one hand, he easily towed it across the space to a small room built into one corner. He took it inside, then made way for January. She stepped within to find one of the nicest changing rooms she had ever seen. The cedar walls and floor lent the air within a pleasant scent, and the wooden bench within was made of sandy-toned pine. A full length mirror took up one wall, and a rack for which to hang clothing stood above a small table.

"Have no fear, there are no recording devices within," Blackwood insisted. "In fact, this entire building is shielded from such things."

He shut the door behind January, and left her to her own devices. January took off her old armor once piece at a time. It was something she was not used to. Normally she just magically swapped it with whatever ordinary clothing she had been wearing last. But that would not help her here. As Hannah had discovered when she had attempted her striptease - had that been just a week ago? - armor was not made for ease of donning. It was made to protect.

But soon enough she had taken off her old suit and began to work her way into the new one. She instantly noted that the base layer of fibers felt different. That was no surprise. The old suit had been made of hagfish slime. This new one was entirely of Blackwood's meta-materials. His new fibers joined together in a latticework of interlocking hexagons. It reminded January of paintings that were made up of tiny dots, that all blended together to make a single, coherent image. Only in this case it was these hexes that seemingly snapped together to create her attire.

The other thing she quickly noted was that the metal plates that sheathed her chests, forearms, and shins were lighter than the cubic born nitride of her old armor. Again, it was no surprise. She had told the super clothier that she did not want armor, just a suit. They still seemed quite solid however.

She also soon discovered that Blackwood had not exactly duplicated the old suit. There were little alterations. Most notably the tunic that sheathed her torso fell down farther across her hips than the original suit, with slits at the bottom of either side to allow for great freedom of movement. As she cinched up her new utility belt over it, she found that this tunic had a more comfortable fit. With more material stretching down beneath it, there was extra space for it to slide up and down. She would not be accidentally baring her belly button or underwear in this suit. She also noted a few hidden compartments sewn into the ankles and wrists. They were small, just large enough to perhaps slide a set of lock picking tools, or a slender knife, within.

She took the time to empty the contents of her old belt into the new one. Grenades, business cards, water bottle, antitoxin, makeup, money, spare burner phones, and more, it was everything a girl needed for a good time. Finally she was completely suited up, and took a moment to look at herself in the mirror.

A superhero stared back her. That was hardly a surprise after all. But for a moment, it really sank in that this was her, not someone else on TV or the internet. This was her. She was doing it. She was really doing it. She was Stormcrow.

She stepped out of the changing room to find Blackwood patiently reading a book about Lady Diana. A pair of reading glasses perched upon the end of his nose, and he looked like anyone's old English grandpa. He looked up at the sound of the door, and set down the book with a grin.

"Well, come on then, how is it?" he asked.

"I like it!" January declared with absolute certainty. "Especially the little additions you made. You think of everything. I am wondering though, what is this metal made of?"

January tapped the black breastplate, which was adorned with her trademark white raven banner logo.

"It is a titanium alloy, combined with some of my own personal meta-materials," Blackwood explained. "I know you did not want true armor. But it is the weakest form of metal I employ, aside from artistic flourishes with bronze or brass of course. It is paramagnetic, so it won't make you the puppet of anyone with magnetism. It is also non-conductive, and possessed of an extremely high resistance to heat."

"How high?" January wondered offhandedly.

"The melting point is a little over 2,000 Celsius," Blackwood murmured.

"So that is what, about enough to cook hot dogs with?" January replied. She was tempted to look it up with Sága. It was not like she had any idea what metric measurements really meant after all.

"A little more than that," Blackwood laughed. "You can swim in magma in that suit - metal and fiber - and it won't melt or burn. Of course how you hold up is another question entirely."

January thought of the firewing they had fought during Jobbie Nooner, and the volcano they had taken it to afterward. She might just be testing that out one day.

The old man helped her transfer Sága from her old arm guard to the new one. The meta-designer had to make some alterations to the new suit's forearm, so that the electronics would fit just right. As she had seen before, he simply waved a hand over the material, and it reshaped itself according to his will. In no time at all her digital assistant was up and running.

Then he did the same to migrate the electronics from her old helmet to the new one. The new headgear was also lighter, and fit much closer to her face. It still bore a hole in the back to pull her hair out through. But she found that could be sealed up if she wished, and she tried that out. Instead she let her hair spill down the nape of her neck, out of sight beneath the fibers of the tunic below.

Once everything was all squared away the super fashion designer bid her to put the armor through its paces. January found that it was a little tight when she raised her arms above her head, and he immediately went to work altering the fit. He did not ask her to take it off. Instead he laid his hands upon the material, and it reformed beneath his fingers, changing its cut to suit his desire. In moments it fit perfectly.

Once that was taken care of she went through an entire gymnastics routine. It was a tour de force of somersaults, handsprings, back handsprings, aerial cartwheels, roundoffs, walkovers, scissor leaps, and the like. January pulled out all the stops, and performed every maneuver she knew. There were a few more tweaks afterward to insure that she still possessed a full range of movement, especially after she did the splits. The end result was even freer and better-fitting than her old suit that Gadget had built. There was certainly something to be said for a professionally tailored suit!

"You would be really good at making cosplay outfits..." she found herself murmuring. "I know people who would love your stuff."

"Oh I do create cosplay attire!" Blackwood laughed. "It is something of a second line of income. There are only so many people such as yourself after all. Jean-Paul simply adores anime. I remember when we called them cartoons... Some of the designs are simply phenomenal. Not to mention physics-defying. They can be a real challenge for me to sink my teeth into."

January thought of Zero's gravity-defying collar in Code Geass, or the weird plane-legs of the protagonists from Strike Witches. She could not imagine how anyone could do Nine-Tails Chakra Mode in Naruto, at least not without burning down the house, or the wearer.

"I guess you would have your work cut out for you," January laughed. Then her face became more serious. "I am sorry I was critical of you before. It was out of turn. Frostbite got me feeling salty, and I guess I was looking for someone to punch."

"Apology accepted," Blackwood smiled and bowed slightly. "Now, about your old suit, did you have any plans for it?"

"Plans?" January wondered.

"Some people like to keep all of their old suits as memorabilia," Blackwood explained. "Others auction them off for charity and the like. If you did not have anything such as that in mind, I always accept material donations. I can recycle any old suit into something new."

"Oh, oh," January finally understood. Not just what he was getting at, but what else was left unsaid.

"About paying you," January picked her words carefully. "I thought Blood Raven..."

"Oh no, that is all taken care of, not that I really charge that much, especially from clients at the start of their careers." Blackwood insisted with a wave of his hands. "As I said, I have other lines of income, such as creating costumes for the Met Gala. I really was just wondering what you would like to do with the old attire."

"I don't know," January made a face as she thought. Her first instinct was indeed to just give the suit to him. But on the other hand what he had said about charity was appealing. She might be able to do something good with it. If so, it would be a shame to pass up that opportunity.

"I think I'll keep it for now," January said. "Maybe I will give it away for a good cause. Or maybe someone else might need it someday."

"Very well, I shall have it sent to the usual address." Blackwood nodded.

"The usual address?" January asked. "You mean you can just mail it?"

"Of course," Blackwood replied. "I employ a bonded courier service, with 24 hour shipping worldwide. That is how I do most of my business. Customers rarely come here themselves. Usually they do just when they want a vacation."

January smiled, and shook her head. Was this Blood Raven's idea of a vacation? Or was it simply as she had said, that it was time for her to meet more people in the community, such as Harper and Kaelin at the Aura, or Mr. Blackwood himself? Or perhaps it was both?

A delightful reveal of the Stormcrow’s new uniform!

”He reminds me to crack on and do it, and that mistakes are simply happy accidents."
- - Ah yes, the conflict between perfection and progress. In my former life, we often needed to create tactical plans in a time crunch. At a certain point in the preparation cycle a wise commander would end the planning efforts with words such as, “The time for ‘No more good ideas’ has arrived; a good plan executed in a timely manner is superior to a perfect plan that is ready too late to influence the outcome.”

Lots of subtle improvements in the 2.0 version of Stormcrow’s armor. I like that there will certainly be no confusion about who she is, and also that most of Gadget’s gizmo features were incorporated.

Nice touch of her to apologize to Blackwood for her earlier criticism of how he chooses to do business. I’m glad they had that discussion in the previous episode so they could both learn from and understand each other better.

Acadian: This is January's 3rd costume upgrade of the season. From here on out I do not see her having any major wardrobe changes however. It is hard to top Blackwood's handiwork.

Yep, sometimes you just need to "Git 'er done!" rather than make it pretty. Been there, done that a lot.

January taking out her displaced aggression on Blackwood was a part of who she is - a fighter. Her apologizing afterward was also a part of who she is - empathetic. I wanted both to show that she is not perfect, but that she does have a good heart.







Salamander


The Soufrière Hills Volcano



Book 9.10 - Ashes

"You must come and see this!" Jean-Paul burst into the room with wild eyes. January was instantly on her guard. Her wings sprouted from her back, and flexed expectantly, ready for action. She stretched out with her astral senses. But other than the three of them, she sensed no others in the nearby area.

The young Frenchman waved for them to follow, and darted from the room. January and Mr. Blackwood followed him back to the main house. There she saw the root of his concern. Displayed upon a giant flatscreen TV was a scene from what looked like a post- apocalyptic film. The land was all dead gray ash and bare stone where nothing lived. As if to add flavor, pools of red hot lava dotted the stony ground, sending plumes of steam and smoke into the sky.

As January watched, the camera focused in sharply at the head of the column of destruction. Quite plainly she saw a creature of black stone and bright magma. It crawled along the ground like a lizard. Its claws and fangs glowed with white heat, and its eyes burned like suns. After a few moments the picture zoomed back out again, and January saw that beyond the blasted landscape of ash and dust, a line of green hills rose up, crowned with tropical trees. Woven through this wooded landscape were roads, and houses, and people. All of them right in the path of the monster.

"That's a salamander!" January cried. She brought up Sága, and punched in Gadget's number. While she waited for him to pick up, she looked back to Jean-Paul.

"Where is that?" she asked.

"Montserrat, the Soufrière Hills," he replied. "It is just a few islands over from here."

"This isn't the best time," Gadget's bleary tones came back through Sága's interface. "I'm kind of out of pocket right now."

"Spent the night at some hot young stud's place?" January could not resist the tease, before she became more serious. "Sorry to wake you up. You know what, I can call Cray instead."

"No, I know what calling this line means," Gadget asked, sounding all business now. "Just give me a minute to get dressed, and then I can head down to the car."

"No, it's cool, enjoy your Sunday," January insisted. "Live your life for a change. None of us get to do that enough anymore. You deserve it. I'll get Cray, and Blood Raven."

"No," he insisted. "I knew what this life meant when we started this. I am in this."

"We don't all have to be on duty every minute," January shook her head. "That's part of being a team. Look at me, I've been out of things for a whole week. Now shut your phone off and enjoy the awkward morning after. You never know, you might just have fun."

January did not wait for him to reply. Instead she disconnected the call, and immediately punched up Cray. She stared back at the TV screen, and watched as the salamander wended its way across a landscape already blackened and gray with old ash. She had no idea where the Soufrière Hills were. But at least it looked uninhabited. But how long until the fire elemental reached that part of the island that was filled with life? What would happen then?

"Cray here," the hacker's mellow tones rose up in January's ears. "What is up?"

"Turn on Worldwide Network News," January said. While he did, she turned back to Jean-Paul and Mr. Blackwood. "Which way is it?"

The two men blinked, and then lifted their arms to point to the south and east. January turned. She was out the door and on the deck with a single bound. Then she thought of something, and turned back to the men.

"Do you have Frostbite's number?" she asked. "Can you get her to call me?"

"Now?" Jean-Paul looked perplexed. But Mr. Blackwood seemed to understand January's intent, for he nodded and began to tap the screen of his phone.

January did not wait around to see the results. Instead she rocketed skyward and turned in the direction that they had indicated. She cut across the island of Virgin Gorda and its major city in just moments. Then the truly open sea spread out before her. She beat her wings upward to gain a few hundred more feet in altitude. But even with the extra distance that gave her to the horizon, there was no land in sight, except behind her. She would have to rely upon Cray to guide her to her destination.

At least she knew from experience that she could easily stay aloft for hours. And if worse came to worse, she could breathe water. Still, she eyed the deep blue beneath her with a twinge of trepidation. The sapphire waves were undeniably lovely. But what lay beneath them? How deep into the abyss did their depths plunge? What manner of creatures haunted such lightless domains? And how often did they rise to the surface to hunt?

January knew that she was being silly. She as a real life superhero. She had fought werebears and ghosts after all. But she could not deny a twinge of thalassophobia when she gazed down at the endless waves. Perhaps it was from watching the movie Jaws at too young an age. Or maybe it was reading too much Lovecraft. Or it might just have been the never-ending expanse of open water, where every direction looked the same, and there was nothing but the smothering monotony of the waves.

"I'm no expert, but that sure looks like a fire elemental to me," Cray's voice returned to her ear. He sounded remarkably calm, given the circumstances. But then he always did.

"That is a pyrkaïá pódi, a firefoot." Blood Raven's voice now joined the conversation. "It is a type of salamander that also bears powers of Earth. It can be no coincidence that such a thing appears but a week after we faced one of its cousins at Gull Island."

"Could it be the Hierophant?" January wondered. Her stomach tightened at the thought. At the same time her blood boiled. She was looking forward to ending that particular individual.

"Perhaps," Blood Raven mused, "but perhaps not. Cray, has there been any recent volcanic activity on that island, especially within the last week?"

"Let me see..." The sound of plastic keys clacking came faintly over the link. "Well guess what happened there last Friday afternoon, just before Jobbie Nooner? A new fumarole opened up near the summit of the Soufrière Hills volcano. It's been venting gas and small lava flows ever since."

"So this is where last week's firewing came from," January declared. "Maybe the Hierophant came back for another one?"

"I don't see anyone like him on the news copter footage we have of this beastie." Cray noted. "Or anyone trying to control or corral this thing. It is just wandering on its own."

"I suspect that when they called up the firewing last week, they may have unwittingly awakened this creature from its own slumber as well." Blood Raven's voice was thoughtful. "In any case, I am presently in Ann Arbor. My teleportation network has a nearby waypoint. Through it I shall be in Nassau in minutes."

"By the time you get there, and then get to Montserrat, it's going to be all over," January shook her head. "Besides, if this is the prelude to another attack by the Hierophant, you need to be where you are."

"Are you prepared to face this being alone?" Blood Raven asked. "It is not as powerful as the firewing. But it is still formidable."

"Yeah, I think so," January replied. "You showed me what to do at Jobbie Nooner and Mount St. Helens. I can handle this. Besides, I might not have to do it by myself."

As if summoned by her words, an audible click announced that another party had joined the conference call.

"Is this the little birdy?" a voice with a distinctive Eastern European accent came over the line. "I was not expecting you to take me seriously."

"If you still want to show me that mazurka, I'm game," January insisted. "Have you seen the news?"

"I am watching the fire beast right now," Frostbite replied. "It looks spicy."

"Care to join me in Montserrat?" January asked. "With your ice powers, you'd be a real asset."

"Do you have me mistaken for someone else?" the Polish woman laughed. "You white hats can play with monsters all you like. I will watch on the TV."

"Don't you want to show the world what you can do?" January tried a different tack. "Think of it as an audition tape. People might want to hire you for... whatever nefarious deeds it is you do."

"I need no audition," the other woman scoffed. "You are the one who loves the cameras. I do not need such... exposure."

"Then we'll pay you." January offered. "I don't know what the going rate is for a meta-mercenary, but I am sure we can come to some sort of deal."

"We will not!" Blood Raven insisted.

"And we don't have money to just toss around," Cray added, "especially not after all of our recent expenditures on attire."

The supervillain laughed. It was a sound that grated on January's ears.

"For once, I agree with the white hats," she said. "Is that what your hat's color is Blood Raven? Or is it several shades darker?"

"Come to Detroit and bear witness to it yourself," Blood Raven growled.

"Perhaps one day, but not today," the supervillain chuckled softly. "As I say, I am on holiday, and this bar on the beach has the most delicious tropical drinks. Bye-bye little birdie. I shall watch you on the big screen. Entertain me."

"Really, you're not afraid of a fight are you?" January tried yet another approach. She was disappointed when Frostbite laughed at her again.

"Who do you think I am, Marty McFly?" she scoffed. "I have no fragile masculinity for such transparent ploys to work upon. Goodbye little girl."

Another click denoted that she had disconnected. January scowled in frustration.

"I am sorry Stormcrow," Blood Raven intoned, "one cannot always reach other people, especially not people such as that. Instead place your steadfast faith within your own force of arms. You shall prevail."

Blackwood's operation is neat, with all these materials and ideas and clothing stage developments. Random thought, but I bet the FBI & CIA have files on this guy, right? Can't really connect him with anything, but there's gotta be some suspicions. He's not hidden in some Batcave, nor is he in America itself, but he's sort of out in the open, with his opulent home.

And every time Blackwood speaks, I hear Caine's slightly raspy coffee 'n' cigarettes voice. "This is what I do. I create ahhht..."

Bob Ross is awesome. So relaxing to watch. Whoa, the mannequin room... I'd hate to see what sort of damage the Stinger can do.



Fokkinge awesome. What a fokkinge awesome paragraph.

Oh gosh no. Don't recycle the old suit. Send that back to Michigan, at least! Avery needs to be honoured. Um... honored. see, now I'm thinking like a Brit.

Out of the tropical paradise and into the frying pan! A ground-bound dragon!

No surprise by now that Jan was in the air and en route within moments of realizing there were people in the firefoot’s path. It really shows the strength and depth of her team that she is comfortable enough to rely on Cray instead of Gadget. Glad she’s got Cray and Blood Raven in her ear. Given the distances, not even the supersonic hammer of light could get there in time. A bold and optimistic move to try and enlist help from Frostbite who is at least in the neighborhood. Not to mention ice would be an appropriate weapon. Oh well.

Overall, this episode really showcased a lot of who Stormcrow has grown to be in that all her actions during this time-sensitive crisis made total sense for her. This could be the fight of her life coming up!

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jun 12 2022, 12:23 AM

Finished Blood Ties!

First love/romance is always a rush. Maybe even more of one in January's case, given her situation. And the sheer rush of relief she feels at being accepted really hits home. Hannah does indeed seem like a unicorn. At first.

I'm impressed at the way you seeded a few hints about Hannah's personality throughout their interactions. Reading it, I noted how she seemed kind of dismissive about things January cared about. In my experience, it's not that important for people in a relationship to share a lot of the same interests. But what is important is that they share the same values. One shouldn't be dismissive about the interests of the other. Yet this is exactly what we see here, so a reader can already surmise that this won't be as smooth of a road as January would like.

And it gets even harder with Julian's death. The story's already established that Julian's a pretty bad guy. But even bad guys have people who care about them, and in this case, that's January's family. The whole situation of informing the loved ones of what happened reinforces what you said were some of the themes in this story: that even where there are superheroes, there's a world outside of the battles. This brings it home in a heavy, meaningful way.

Renee: Lots of people would know about Blackwood. As he said himself, he makes costumes for the Met Gala. But yes, one of the reasons that he lives where he does is that he outside of the jurisdiction of both the US, Russia, China, and the other big world powers. All he really has to do is stay on the good side of the Virgin Islands government, and never has to worry about anything. Not that anyone has any reason to come after him. He's just a tailor. Plus he already makes costumes for everyone after all, including whoever would hypothetically be coming after him.

I don't think Avery is that sentimental about a suit. Then again, he will probably be keeping his own... nevermind. I don't expect there to be a gallery of old Stormcrow suits. But January might want to put the old suit up for auction some day and donate the money to a charity.


Acadian: I deliberately decided to write Cray into things here, to show Jan getting more used to relying upon him. It is going to become more and more of thing as future, things, happen with Avery (good things).

I put Frostbite in because. January has been really good at persuading people to take a better path, like Lighthammer, Isaac, Gola, etc... I wanted to show that she cannot always make her Persuasion rolls. There are always some people like Frostbite who simply can never be reached.

This will be one really insane fight coming up. One that will push January like no other ever has. She is going to be fighting an opponent who shares some of her own abilities.


WellTemperedClavier: Blood Ties was a big chapter/episode for January. The first romance is always a milestone in everyone's life. For most of us it is a learning experience, which is to say that it is usually not the person we end up with forever. January is no different. I deliberately put all those red flags out there as warning signs that Hannah was not the person for her, even without her racism against Japanese people. She was much too different from January. As you pointed out, she did not value the same things, let alone possess Jan's amount of empathy for others less privileged. Given that they are both supers - and caught up in this war against the Hierophant - it just accelerated everything at lightspeed.

Julian's death was originally going to come at the end of chapter/episode 10, which is the Season One finale. But I moved some things around and made some changes to the plot, and that brought things up. It is something that I have gone back and forth on for years. Because it changes a lot. Besides the personal loss in the family, there is the fact that having a supervillain in the family is something that will always be tied with January's civilian identity from now on, along with her mother's life.

Like most superhero stories, I tend to shy away from actual deaths. So far it is only the actions of the most reprehensible individuals that result in people being killed, or even inordinately harmed. I wanted to use Julian's death to bring home that fact that it is something shattering to the lives of all those left behind.

And working on the world outside of the capes is always an important part of my process. Every chapter/episode I try to have cape stuff happening, and personal things happening. January is not Batman. She isn't the cape. Stormcrow is just something she does because she needs to in order to make the world a better place. January is who she is, and always will be, and her friends are a huge part of that. They keep her sane, and give her a reason to be a part of the world, and insure that she can relate to 'regular' people, no matter how weird her super life becomes.







Today's theme music - Two Steps From Hell - Riders of the Apocalypse

As always Stormcrow's route can be followed on the Stormcrow Google Map

Montserrat

Montserrat Volcano Observatory

Lava Flows on the Soufrière Hills



Book 9.10 - Ashes

January set her eyes on the horizon. With a little help from Cray, she reoriented herself on a more direct path to Montserrat. Then she laid on the speed, and crowded out all other thoughts from her mind. She became Air. She became the hurricane. She poured her mana into that thought, and made it reality with her will. She cut across the sky like a black meteor, moving ever onward.

It took longer than she would have liked. But eventually land did come into view ahead of her and to her left. She had to admit, it was a relief to see after the seemingly endless monotony of the waves. But this was far too small of an island for it to be her destination. It was just a small lump rising from the ocean, crowned with lush greenery. She pushed on even harder, and passed by several more islands over her left shoulder, to her east. These were the right size, but Cray informed her that they too, were not her destination.

"Those are Nevis and St. Kitts," the hacker explained in his deep, mellow tones. "Don't worry, you are almost there."

She passed by one final, tiny isle. It was little more than a rock with sparse patches of scraggly grass clinging to its otherwise barren surface. Then she came upon her target.

Montserrat was a good-sized island. At least compared to the ones she had visited so far in the Caribbean. Like most of the others, it was rough and hilly, and covered in lush green vegetation. The waters that girded its coast were a mouth-watering shade of teal, and deepened to crystal blue sapphire as they stretched away into infinity. A few small boats cruised these serene waters, but nothing like the great fleet of vessels that swarmed about St.Thomas.

A thin finger of smoke clawed into the sky in the distance, near the southern end of the island. January oriented herself toward it, and winged over the shore. She passed by several towns, and gave the single landing strip of an airport a wide berth. She did not want to cause any air traffic accidents after all.

Soon enough January was over the densely forested hills in the center of the island. Or were they a mountain? There were numerous rounded peaks that bumped up above the rest of the highlands, rather than one single summit. The entire mass was a solid carpet of greenery, which made her heart sing with joy. Seeing life so unfettered and unspoiled by humanity always made her feel that way after all.

Once she had cleared the central peaks, a wide valley spread across the island from east to west beneath her. A line of brown ash ran through its lowest points, like a rust stain at the bottom of an old tub. The wide hills to the west - over her right shoulder - were crowned with verdant greenery. But to the east the landscape was a dead moonscape of old lava flows, now hardened into dry dust.

Beyond the valley to the south lay the Soufrière Hills. The highland took up the entire southern end of the island. Like the massif she had just passed, the volcano did not possess a single cone. Rather it was a rough knot of at least half-a-dozen rounded crests, and all bulged up around one another amidst gentle declines between each.

Half of the volcano was coated with a rich hide of green trees, brush, and grass. But the other half was a dead brown wasteland of ash and stone, completely denuded of all life. It was like rivers of death had rolled down the mountain, and stripped away everything in their passing as they plunged inexorably to the sea. Yet at the same time they had bypassed large swaths of greenery where nature continued to thrive even now, islands of life amidst the utter devastation.

It could not have happened recently. It was all too still and silent for that. Except for the cloud of mist that she saw gathered near one peak, the entire place looked still and serene. There she could see where a trickle of gas and smoke issued forth. Its source was a rough hole that had formed in the side of one slope. From it she could trace a line of fresh, red hot lava that splashed down the mountain in a winding line of puddles.

It did not flow like the videos she had seen of lava. Instead it was stagnant and still. More like a trail, rather than a river. The line of molten earth had turned black and still near the fumarole. It brightened to red, then orange, the farther away it went from the mountain. Still, ever downward it fell, until it suddenly turned north and moved upward over a hill.

That was definitely not normal for lava.

"Okay, some background," Cray spoke over the clacking of his keyboard. "In 1995 the previously dormant Soufrière Hills stratovolcano began a series of eruptions that covered half of the island. It has erupted on and off ever since. Two thirds of the island's population had to flee, and it even destroyed the old capital of Plymouth. You can see what's left of it down on your right, by the water. The entire southern half of the island has been cordoned off from occupation by an exclusion zone. That's the good part for us, you shouldn't have to worry about any civvies down there."

"And the bad part?" January was afraid to ask, but could not resist.

"The bad part is that our salamander friend just left the exclusion zone. He climbed up the central hills, and he's right on top of what looks to be the Montserrat Volcano Observatory. It's some kind of science station that monitors the volcano. I bet they were surprised when our new friend here crawled out of it today."

"I see it!" January's ears followed the beating of a helicopter's rotors. Her eyes found the aircraft hovering above a forested hill to the north of her. A line of flames cut through the greenery below, and traced out the route the salamander had taken. That was just beneath the helicopter. She banked hard and followed that trail of destruction.

Right in front of the trail of fire rose up a gray concrete structure that was either two or three stories tall. It was built on the hillside, so how high it was depended on what side one looked at it from. It had curved corners and a smooth facade that looked vaguely Spanish to January's untrained eye. A great radio antenna painted red and white rose up from behind it, and the parking lot beside it was nearly devoid of cars, but not entirely.

She could see one red pickup still in the lot. The salamander saw it too, for it changed its course and began to shuffle toward the car. January winged her way with all of her might. She drew closer with each second. She could see a bearded man behind the wheel, and another man with a shaved head in the passenger seat. Both stared at the fire elemental before them with eyes widened by horror.

The car was not moving. The whining sound of the engine failing to start explained the reason why. Again and again the driver tried to turn the motor over, but it refused to cooperate. Instead it protested in a loud, mechanical voice. That voice seemed to draw even more attention from the firefoot, who appeared to be considering the nature of the noisy metal creature before it.

It must have had enough, for the fire elemental reared its head back. January saw the rocky flesh around its chest glow orange, then red, and finally white. That light flowed up through its body and into its neck, and then its jaws. She saw its throat bulge. There was no doubting what was about to come next.

January slammed into the pavement with both feet directly in front of the vehicle. Concrete shattered under the impact, and rained down around her like hail. Her wings flared out to create a wide shield. An instant later the salamander vomited forth a gout of magma. The molten rock spewed across her body and her feathers. It felt like she had been struck by a car, a car on fire. But she was Earth. She was the mountain. She was adamant. She would not bend to any force.

Not a single drop of lava touched the pickup, or the men within it. Finally she heard the engine catch, and a moment later the screech of tires as the pickup raced back across the parking lot.

But January was still covered in lava. Mr. Blackwood had been correct. Her new suit had not melted under the assault. But it was hot. Oh goddess was it hot! She had never felt such an inferno. Not even in the worst of the Flying Dutchman fire. To make matters worse, the glop of the molten earth stuck to her body, making her feel like she had been weighed down by rocks, which... well... was true.

January turned her eyes to the sky. Except for the helicopter, there were no others around. The side doors of the aircraft were open, and she could see a WNN crew within filming the entire event. But it was far enough off to not get in her way. So it was safe to fully unleash her powers.

She grinned wolfishly.

January tore the firmament asunder and ripped down a ragged bolt of lightning. At the same time she leaped into the air. As at Jobbie Nooner, the lightning slammed into her and wreathed her in electricity. The lava that had caked her body was blasted off into flaming bits of dust. An instant later the force of the blast sent her hurtling back downward, directly into the salamander.

She brought down her elbow right atop its skull, with all of the force of the lightning behind her. Along with the hammer blow, a massive burst of electricity crashed into the fire elemental. This same attack had decapitated the onaire at Gull Island. She hoped it might likewise put the elemental down for the count, and finish the battle before it could even truly begin.

The world flashed white before January's eyes upon impact. She felt a shockwave ripple out from the blow, and roll through her body like a tidal wave of power. It threw her back up into the sky. She turned that into a backward somersault through the air, and snapped out with her wings. That brought her to a stop, and she hovered about a foot above the ground while she took stock of the situation.

The windows in the observatory had shattered. Nearby trees were now all bent outward, and several picnic benches had been thrown against the concrete walls of the science station. January saw no one within. To be certain, she took a moment to stretch out in the astral. She was gratified to find the entire building empty of all except a few insects. Apparently those two with the cranky engine had been the last people to flee.

She had not expected that to happen. It had not been like that at Gull Island. It was as if the power of her attack had rebounded back on her, and everything around. Did this elemental have a Uno reverse card?

The salamander itself had apparently stood firm through it all. Indeed, it was not even fazed by the assault. Before January could respond, it whipped its body around and brought its tail slashing through the air at her. She had no time to dodge aside, and it hit her full in the face. The tremendous force of the blow sent her careening through the air down the hill. Trees shattered beneath her, and she created a jagged scar through the greenery as she plunged through the forest. She did not stop until she was nearly a hundred feet down the slope.

"Stormcrow, are you ok?" Cray's voice sounded concerned.

"Ouch..." January murmured as she picked herself up onto her feet.

She raised one hand to her jaw, and moved it gingerly back and forth. Thankfully nothing was broken, but she did taste blood in her mouth, hot and coppery. She took a moment to brush the tephra from her shoulders. At least the creature had sent her flying to the south, back toward the exclusion zone. She lifted one hand, and curled her fingers inward to beckon the elemental toward her.

"Valhalla awaits."

It's not that Avery would be sentimental about the suit, it's more that this is an earlier example of his work, and his best friend has done a lot of amazing things within that suit. I would think he'd maybe want it back, just to say "I made this." It'd be more of a pride thing than sentiment. Then again, if the suit is auctioned, now everyone gets to see it (assuming it falls into some sort of public facility). And maybe Avery is not much about pride anyway.... Well, Pride, but not pride.

Reading about Montserrat is fascinating. I love Wikipedia, even though a lot of folks online say it's packed with inaccurate info.

It is amazing to think so many small islands are out there. Literal outcrops in the middle of nowhere. It sounds like she's about to fly right over Fyre Festival.

Whoa, she's flying into a volcano? It's just amazing to think that for all of us, ALL of us, we're all sitting around, going to work, shopping for stuff at Walmart, all while standing over huge pools of molten hot magma. And it's not that far below our feet. A few miles, that's all.

Uh oh, there's the salamander. Right there, about to attack. They can't start their car! I wonder if elementals are like the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park: if we stay still, they might not see us. Somehow, I think salamanders are better than this.

Yikes. The thing spews fire at her. So it's a good thing Blackwood's new suit protects against heat. Still, though... that'll make somebody flinch.

Sounds like the elemental has some sort of Reverse Magic power.

Valhalla awaits! Glad to hear she's using her one-liner.

Two Steps From Hell is always a good choice! They really do a great job of blending epic, emotional, haunting, beautiful, and timeless with many of their songs.


Nice job saving that pair with the unreliable pickup truck – wow! Her new Blackwood suit proves its worth. Clever way of clearing the molten rock from herself.

Uh-oh. With her powerful opening salvo thwarted, the salamander proves itself to be a daunting foe. Stormcrow now has her work cut out for her trying to figure out – probably through trial and bruising – what the beast’s vulnerabilities may be. Some insights/advice from Cray/Blood Raven in her ear would he helpful about now. . . .

I learned a new word: tephra.

There were three new words for me.

Finally fully caught up!

The part at the beginning with Gilda was interesting. In a world with superheroes, it's inevitable that those supers would effectively become celebrities. While January's quite good at hiding her "real" life, she will still have to deal with a lot of unwelcome attention for her superhero persona. Which, in this case, includes speculation about her romantic life.

Good to see Mr. Blackwood again. He makes me think a bit of a much more stylish and open version of Leo Zelinsky who (at one point, anyway, no idea if he's still a thing or not) repaired the costumes of heroes and villains alike.

The Caribbean makes for a nice change of pace. Or maybe not that much of one, given that monsters are appearing here, too. It almost seems like it has to be the Hierophant, and the fact he's raising monsters on Montserrat suggests his reach is quite long. Though that'd fit given the similarly global reach of Blood Raven's grim ancestor.

As for the fight, I liked how the lava is treated like, well, lava. It's pretty rare to see any kind of media that actually acknowledges that the stuff radiates heat (so yeah, jumping over lava pools is probably a bad idea), and is as heavy as the rock it actually is. Even with her suit, the heat still gets to her which serves as a good way to raise the tension.

Renee: Thinking of what you said, January might donate the old suit to a museum. That is something for me (and her) to think about.

Wikipedia is a good starting point. Don't write a paper for school based on what you see in it. But do follow the citations, and they might well lead you to the real goldmines of facts. For quick and simple answers, it is a really handy reference. Just like the encyclopedias we had back when we were younger.

Hang on to that thought about the Fyre Festival. Someone in the story is going to reference it in the future.

Salamanders are definitely not the like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park. They can see things that do not move. Otherwise they would be constantly walking into things!

The elemental's powers will be explained in future posts. But suffice to say, it is really, really invulnerable to physical attacks. Especially at certain times.


Acadian: A lot of trial and bruising in coming up for January. The salamander is going to be one of her most implacable foes ever. Which is quite a statement, come to think of it. But January has friends that she does not even realize, and they always come through for her.

I think I learned tephra from a documentary about the volcanic eruption at Thera/Santorini. Or maybe it was Pompeii. Both dumped massive amounts of the stuff on top of cities, freezing them in time.


WellTemperedClavier: Gilda is one reason supers are celebrities. She was inspired by the character of Vesper Fairchild from the Batwoman TV show. I don' t think we ever meet her. But she is often heard reporting on the radio on the doings of our heroes - good and bad. I liked the idea of creating a similar character, to show what the rest of the world thought about what was going on in the stories. So Gilda was born.

Blackwood is definitely more stylish and snazzy than Leo. He was heavily inspired by a similar character Michael Caine played in Miss Congeniality.

I did want a change of scenery from Detroit and the Midwest for this one. Since January has come a long way with her wings, the world in which she can operate has also opened up as well. She will be getting out to Washington DC and the Atlantic Ocean in the future.

When I was working on the baddie for this episode, I did not want to go to the exact same well as before. We just had both a firewing and a flame construct at Jobbie Nooner. I wanted some diversity. So rather than go with a primarily fire-based creature, I went with a lava-based one. It will prove to be very different from what has come before. Even though it will possess the same weakness as its cousins.







January's Fight Music


Richmond Hill



Book 9.11 - Ashes

The firefoot's eyes were literal molten pits as they locked on to her across the long space. It spun away from the science station, and shimmied back down the hill toward her. It moved in the same bouncing gait as a lizard, which its body most resembled. Well, aside from all the fire and magma of course. The molten rock of its hide annihilated every bush and blade of grass it slithered across, leaving a trail of ash and dust behind it. Its feet left puddles of lava in their wake, having turned the earth molten in their passage.

January leaped to one side, to spare the greenery around her. She came down in the same path the elemental had taken to climb the hill. It was easy enough to find, it was a blackened crust of ash that cut through the emerald hillside like a dark scar. She felt something hot splash under her foot, and glanced down to see that she had stepped into a small pool of molten lava. She took a moment to try to snap it off with a quick kick. But small blobs of liquid rock remained stuck to her.

It was hot, obviously. But the suit was holding up. So was she. She had survived public school. She would survive this.

She idly noted that the black paint and white raven banner symbol upon her chest plate had been burned off. That revealed silvery titanium underneath, which now gleamed brightly under the hot Caribbean sun. But around the edges she could see the colors slowly creeping back to once again cover the breastplate. Blackwood had not been just boasting about the armor being self-repairing. It was regenerating right before her eyes.

The salamander crashed onto the path with a long leap. January was forced to somersault backward to avoid being crushed under its obsidian bulk. It kicked up a cloud of tephra as it slid across the ruined soil. Then it recovered and charged forward. But January became Water, and easily flowed away. She countered with a quick jab at the side of its head. It felt like punching stone.

Again, the monster was unfazed by the strike. But she definitely still had its attention. It swiped at her with its claws, and once more January leaped away. She took it farther down the hill, each leap sending her hundreds of feet away. The firefoot remained in hot pursuit, and January continued ever on toward the deep blue of the sea that she could glimpse in the distance.

"That's good, keep leading it that way," Cray said in her ear. "You are headed into Richmond Hill. It used to be a ritzy neighborhood of the old capital. Lots of vacation mansions owned by off-islanders. It's been abandoned for years, but people are allowed in during the day. So watch for civvies."

"I'll try to get it through here as quick as possible," January murmured.

"Keep going south and you will hit an old pyroclastic flow," the hacker noted. "Go west instead and you will hit the sea. But don't do that. Foxes Bay Beach is there, and it looks like some people are there."

January leaped straight up when the salamander came at her again. Its fangs snapped shut upon empty air as her wings shot her higher into the sky. She took a quick spin and saw what Cray had described. The former capital of Plymouth lay directly south of her, across that great flow of ash and mud. It was not just a single torrent. Instead what was left of the city was flanked by two massive flows of old lava. She could see rooftops rising from the tephra within the now-stilled rivers of earth. The eruptions had literally buried most of the city. What remained stood within a small patch of sparse greenery, like an island in a sea of ash.

January glanced to the east, where a tall, green hill rose up to block the rest of the island from her view. To the north was the lower rise of Garibaldi Hill and far beyond that lay the research station. Stretched out behind both were the streets and buildings of another city that hugged the shore. This was fully populated, and January could glimpse vehicles crisscrossing its roads, and tiny dots of people walking to and fro. Finally to her left a green and brown crescent of land jutted out into the ocean, and January saw about a dozen people enjoying the sandy beach there.

The sound of the helicopter was loud in her ears, and she saw that it had come closer now that January had taken to the air. The camera operator within had fixed her lens directly upon her. It was just what she needed, another close up.

She looked down to see the elemental rear back its head. January noted that bulge grow deep in its throat once more. Light intensified around it, and rose up into its head as its jaws gaped wide. Another great glob of lava spat forth from its mouth. But it was not headed January's way. No, it was directed at the much louder, and larger, helicopter that shared her airspace.

January became Air, and sped to intercept the elemental's fiery breath. Careful to keep her wings from going too high and getting caught in the rotors, she splayed herself against the open side door of the helicopter. Her hands stretched out to either side, and caught the rim of the doorway. Her wings plastered against the cockpit on her left, and the fuselage on her right, completely enfolding half of the helicopter.

She came to a halt just inches from the camera operator's face. The young woman's eyes bulged in shock, and she toppled backward. She fell down onto the bare metal floor of the helicopter's cabin. But she kept her camera going, still pointed at January. A reporter with a WNN microphone crouched beside her. He too, fell back, but into one of the seats that lined the back wall of the passenger compartment. Others that January imagined might be sound technicians or other members of the recording crew likewise blanched away.

The lava hit an instant later. It splattered across her back and against her wings. It was hot, so very hot. It felt like her skin was boiling. It hissed in her ears, and smoke curled up from her feathers. A drop of the molten earth fell to the cabin floor of the helicopter, and burned clear though the airframe. It left a hole rimmed with white-hot metal in its wake, which one could peer through to see the ground below.

"Are you trying to get yourselves killed!" January could not contain the frustration in her voice. "Get away from here!"

Lightning flashed to underscore her words, followed by a low refrain of thunder.

January's feet were planted on the edge of the compartment now. She pushed off, and fell backward through the empty air. The feeling was familiar enough, it brought back fond memories of years of practice on the uneven bars. There was nothing like soaring through the air to make a girl feel good after all.

She turned the fall into a somersault, then caught her descent with her wings. Overhead, the helicopter veered away. Perhaps its pilot had an attack of sense? January hoped so. It was hard enough fighting monsters without people deliberately placing themselves in the creature's paths.

But that little voice of reason in the back of her head reminded her that this was not a monster. It was not a being that lived to cause pain and suffering. It was simply a force of nature, one not beholden to human niceties. Like any volcano or forest fire, it simply did what it did. It destroyed, and that destruction opened the way for new life. It was as necessary and important to the survival of the world as any wolf or shark.

The salamander snarled at the departing helicopter, then turned back to face her. January let herself drop back down to earth. Now she wondered if her going airborne had brought its attention to the helicopter in the first place? Could that have all been her fault after all?

The salamander charged, and January gave way before it. To be honest, she fled. That was the entire plan after all. She was on another hill now, one very low compared to the others to the north and east. But unlike those, this one was cut by streets, and dotted with the remains of houses.

There were still grass and trees and brush all around. But a layer of old tephra coated everything that did not live and grow. The streets and rooftops were inundated with the brown dust. Windows and doorways of mansions gaped empty and dark, like eye sockets in bared skulls. It was an odd juxtaposition of abandonment and decay, mixed in with nature's stubborn will to survive. January found it generally hopeful, for it showed the natural world prevailing in a form of new life amidst the ashes of the old world.

She heard someone scream, and snapped her head around toward the source. It was a young woman standing at the other end of the street from her. She was flanked by two men of roughly the same age. They wore bathing suits, sunglasses, and one carried a camera. This was an actual camera, not a smartphone. All stared in shock at the being of molten rock that raced down the road between abandoned estates.

January turned her head back to her enemy. But she was too late. That had been all the distraction it had needed to spring forward and close the distance between them. Its jaws slammed shut over her head. Its forelegs locked onto her shoulders, and the rest of its bulk smothered her. January screwed her eyes shut as her head was bathed with fire.

This was so much worse than the Flying Dutchman. There the fire had simply wreathed her. Now it literally tried to devour her. She felt obsidian teeth grind upon her winged helmet. She felt liquid fire wash across the bared flesh of her mouth and chin. She felt that pressure, that relentless crushing, closing in on either side of her skull. It felt like she was about to explode any moment.

Without thinking, she sprang backward into a reverse somersault. She felt the two of them crash through a stone wall. Then her back hit a hard floor. The elemental had been yanked along with her of course. It went sailing beyond when she hit the earth, and January's head slipped free of its maw.

A quick kip up brought January back to her feet. She saw that she was within one of the abandoned mansions. They were in what looked like a living room, or so she imagined. The space had been denuded of furniture, and the floor was covered in ash. Bits and pieces of the 90s lay scattered all around. There was a VHS tape still in its cardboard sleeve, and nearby some sort of hand held electronic football game with a cracked screen. The handset of a portable phone lay half melted on the floor, along with old shoes, brittle-paged magazines, and so on. The maid had clearly been off for decades.

She stood with her back to the salamander. It thrashed around behind her and tried to climb to its feet. Before it could stand, she pivoted on one foot, and kicked out with the other. The impact of the roundhouse kick sent the elemental flying directly into the wall at the opposite end of the room. The carefully-fitted stones disintegrated under the impact of its bulk, and the firefoot went sailing clear through the wall and out the other side.

Without a second thought, January sprang through the gaping hole in pursuit. She found herself outside of the building, standing on a back yard deck. It was made up of diamond-shaped stone tiles, and was bordered by a low wooden railing. Taking up the center of the space was a rectangular swimming pool, now filled halfway with squalid green rainwater.

January's eyes lit up at the sight of the scummy green liquid, and she could not prevent a grin from forming upon her features. She charged the elemental, and wrapped both her arms around its molten frame. It had yet to regain its bearings, so it could not dig in and hold her off. Instead the momentum took them both across the yard, and a moment later they splashed into the pool.

A tremendous gout of steam hissed up all around January, making it hard for her to see more than a few feet in front of her. But she knew where the elemental was. It thrashed against her with wild fury. A claw scraped across her face, and those jaws clamped down upon her left arm, just a few inches shy of Sága's interface.

The titanium plates and meta-fibers of her suit disintegrated under the creature's teeth. She felt her skin tear. It was an odd feeling, like ripping cloth. Blood flowed down her arm in a warm line, but she did not feel any pain. Not really. After all, she knew how to take a hit. She had plenty of experience.

She slammed her free elbow down hard upon the back of the salamander's head. That opened its jaws. It reared back to spit once more. This time January was able to duck, and the fiery globs of magma sailed past her. They landed within the water, and sent more steam up about them in a terrific geyser.

The salamander's tail snapped back and forth against the walls of the pool. Tiles shattered under the blows, along with great chunks of the concrete that lay beneath the decorative facing. The water rapidly vanished, and transformed into vapor under the terrific heat of the elemental. January could see that soon enough it would be gone completely, with the magical beast still unharmed in its wake. Clearly, it was not enough water.

"That was a good idea, but I don't think it's going to work." Cray intoned. "Keep pulling it to the ocean. At least I think you've got its attention now. It probably won't be getting distracted by any more helicopters or bystanders."

"Which way?" January asked.

"Back and to your right," the hacker's voice came in response.

January did a back flip up and out of the pool, and most of the steam. She landed on the deck and waited for the salamander to follow. Before it could, she saw the faces of the swimsuit-clad civilians staring back at her. They peered through the hole she had created in the mansion's rear wall. January tried to wave them back. But instead of moving to safety, they just stood there and gawked in amazement. The one with the camera naturally started taking pictures.

"Come on you overgrown lava lamp!" January turned her attention back to the elemental. Again, she extended her hand to the creature, and contemptuously curled her fingers inward to beckon it forward. She idly noted that now they were stained with her own blood.

"Valhalla awaits us both."

The salamander literally boiled from the now-empty swimming pool. But it came in January's direction, not that of the bystanders. She was ready for it, and flowed out of its path like water. Just like water, she could also crash, and she followed with kick to its side. It did not harm the creature of course. But it did send the elemental skittering across the deck, toward the far side of the yard, and away from the civilians.

January leaped over the salamander, and the wooden rail that bordered the yard behind it. Then she plunged down the hillside. She paused to make sure the elemental was in pursuit. It most certainly was. It came bursting through the fence a moment later. Its roasting breath was in her face as it snapped at her. But again, January flowed aside, and it jaws found nothing but air in her place.

Dang, look at those pics of abandoned Montserrat. I fell into a Mount Saint Helens hole a few months ago, reading whatever I could, watching whatever videos are out there, etc.. So I'm gawing at today's website links.

Edit: Here are this photographer's last set of pics. It's like he knew it was futile to run, so he did what he loved best instead.



Hell to the yeah.

... whoa... self-regenerating armor... So, just noticing that Cray is guiding her along for this mission, and I assume it's because he's got international experience. Gadget knows the Michigan area well, maybe some of Canada and the upper midwest. But Cray's better if she's going far outside those zones.

Yeesh, she's falling backwards. As I am a person who's afraid of heights, you're really doing a good job scaring the *bleep* out of Renee today!

Nice, an actual camera. Yikes... it's BITTEN onto her? Water! Become WAter!!!! Become water!!! No.... EARTH!! Become earth1!!!

Aw shucks. Gotta wait until next week to see if this lava lump goes for the big dip into Caribbean.

This post has been edited by Renee: Jun 25 2022, 03:19 PM

Truly the crucible of our times.

Good thing that January got the suit upgrades because she's really being put through the wringer. You don't skimp on just how devastatingly powerful this creature is, from the heat it radiates to the sheer force that comes from having such a dense body.

Even a metahuman would be hard-pressed to defeat such a thing. So I think that drawing it toward the ocean is a good idea. Natural solutions for natural problems, after all.

Good stuff!