The Stormcrow, A Superhero's Tale Options

[Renee]

Ohio's AG has a red power tie. That's so odd. I don't know why, it just stands out. Whole different world for me, I guess. In a way, it is good Jan remains perky under such a serious situation. Just because it portrays how she's now being thrust into this other world I was just talking about.

Uh oh. ICE is there. Why is ICE there? Oh, this [censored] is international. Get it, now.

Lighthammer says "a'ight!" See, he's being himself as well.

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

So true. So very true.

Wow, Interpol, too.

I was going to ask about Blood Raven, too. I don't know all of her powers, but if she can maybe do some sort of Absorb magic, maybe that's the way to take care of Sludge and Obsidian.

Jan's sermon at the very end sounds like something Branwen would have said.

[SubRosa]

Acadian: January continues to move up in the world of supers. Now she is meeting with Interpol Pixies! Seriously though, these last few episodes were a way to not only move this particular story along, but also to show her continuing to take a more public role in her super life.

In a way writing a superhero story has made me realize how similar they are to westerns, and to medieval folklore like Arthurian legends. These are simple stories of good vs evil. Ones in which individuals rather than monolithic government organizations take up the fight. It is Champion vs Champion. The only real difference is whether they have a suit of shiny armor and a sword, a six-shooter and a ten gallon hat, or a cape and cowl.

January cannot sit by during a fight. So even though she had not intended to get involved. She is getting involved. That is why she is a champion in the first place.


Renee: The Ohio AG was definitely a guy who would big stuff, and try to show off his power and influence. Hence the red power tie. Of course I have no idea what the real Ohio AG is like. I only found a picture of him. So I invented his character whole cloth.

There is a lot going on here, so it will be a big, inter-departmental task force that goes after this international drug shipment.

Blood Raven's flair for the dramatic is indeed rubbing off on January. As she becomes more comfortable with her power, and more used to speaking in groups, she is more and more willing to make an impression.





As always the locations described today can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map



Book 7.15 - Hammer Down
June 22


"So how does it feel to be a swinging bachelorette?" Gadget's voice sounded in January's ear.

She winged past the star-shaped earthworks of Fort Wayne, which she imagined had been overgrown with grass for at least a hundred years. The 19th Century fortress was dominated by a tall, rectangular barracks made of limestone. It clearly dated back to the same bygone era, with the long row of gabled dormers that jutting from its slanting roof, and a Neo-Classical peak that topped the center of the structure.

January half-expected to see Blood Raven marching upon the old historic site's battlements. For all that she knew the older heroine may have even served there when she was in the Union Army, back in the Civil War.

"It's quiet," January murmured. She did not say empty. But she certainly thought it. Just like old Fort Wayne, the Witch House felt barren with no one to share it with her.

"It must make the whole caping thing a lot easier," Gadget offered.

"Yeah," January muttered again. She no longer had to check to see where her mother was before flying out the back window. Nor did she have to make excuses about where she was going. She ought to be happy. But somehow she was not.

She followed the Detroit River on to the north and east. Wide lots piled with gravel or ore spotted the American shore on her left. So too did other docks, and even the silos of a refueling station for freighters. To her right were the green shores of the Canadian side. Well, except for the gray and white hills of concrete and salt piled up in their own industrial complexes.

Straight ahead was the Ambassador Bridge. The blue-green suspension bridge was another holdover from a bygone era, this one being the Roaring Twenties. Two giant towers supported the long span across the river, with each trailing long suspension cables in either direction. From these countless rows of suspender cables dropped to the road surface below, holding it above the waves. January had read that it was the busiest crossing on the US-Canadian border. The cars and trucks that filled its span certainly supported that statement.

January called upon Air to give her lift. She soared up higher and higher above the green waves of the river below. The steel girders and cables of the bridge filled her vision. That brought her above the massive tower on Detroit side of the river. She allowed her wings to snap back into a cape, and dropped lightly to one of the giant letters that spelled out "Ambassador Bridge" atop the towering structure.

She squatted down, and closed her eyes. She stretched out with her astral senses. She felt for the poppets that she and Blood Raven had enchanted. One by one, she touched their auras, Cassandra, Pythia, Sibyl, Calypso, and the others. All were still humming along just fine, constantly searching for any sign of an Abyssal being summoned. January knew that she did not have to consciously activate the link between herself to them in order to receive their warning. But they were her first magical creations. They were special that way. Besides, it was good for her to practice her astral muscles. She still had a lot to learn after all.

The honking of horns brought her back to the mundane world. She opened her eyes and let the magical one slip away. Cars and truck beneath flashed their lights at her, and she waved back with a smile.

She took a great leap, clearing the massive steel pillar with a few feet to spare. She allowed herself to fall into a swan dive, with arms stretched out to either side. The wind whipped at her face, and the green waves of the Detroit River rushed up nearer and nearer.

She snapped out her wings and arched her back. Air filled her wings, and she angled more and more out of the dive. Gravity tugged at her with jealous claws, and it felt like her body weighed a thousand pounds. But she was Air. She was a crow. She pulled from the dive, and shot back up above the waves of the river.

Her face was wet from the water that sprayed off the river as she skimmed over its turbulent surface. She changed the angle of her wings, and transformed her increased momentum into altitude. She soared back up into the sky, even as she neared a stall. Finally she evened out, and beat her wings ever onward as she flew along the river.

By now the Canadian side of the river had transformed into a narrow strip of parkland that stretched along the river's edge. Behind it rose one and two story residential homes, sometimes dotted with taller apartment buildings.

On the American side sat West Riverside Park. It was a green expanse that literally glowed with life. The space was filled with brightly lit carnival rides, and long rows of tents and concession stands. January saw several stages for musicians, and a huge area was filled with food trucks. Jet skis roared back and forth just offshore, their pilots guiding them through jaw-dropping feats of acrobatics.

It was the River Days festival. The reason January was here. Just in case the Summoner struck. She had to admit, the whole thing looked like a lot of fun.

January banked toward the park, and soared over the festival taking place below. She crossed over Jefferson, which bounded the park on the left, and nosed herself down toward the tall, imposing structure of the post office. This was not an ordinary branch office, but a nearly ten-story structure of brown sandstone, ringed with an upraised parking lot and loading dock.

January pulled back over the roof, and beat her wings furiously to arrest her momentum. Once she came to a halt, she folded up her wings upon her back. She dropped the rest of the way to the bright white polyurethane foam that covered the roof. She landed lightly, and felt the roofing material bend slightly under her feet.

A pair of small structures rose from the rooftop to the northeast. At the far end of the building beyond them rose several more stories of the building, including the massive air conditioning units that serviced the entire edifice. In the distance rose the three skyscrapers of the Riverfront Towers apartment complex. Farther still loomed the concrete and steel jungle of the Downtown landscape, dominated by the Renaissance Center, as always.

"Has your reconnaissance borne any fruit?" Blood Raven stepped from behind one of the smaller rooftop structures nearby. January was not surprised. She had felt the other woman's presence after all.

"I went down all the way to Grosse Isle." January shook her head. "The only thing magical I felt turned out to be some Wiccans doing a summer solstice celebration in one of the parks. It looked really nice."

"Perhaps we might attend one in the future, once this business with the Summoner is over," Blood Raven ruminated. "I go to many in my identity as a writer. They are very positive, life-affirming events. Your mother might come as well. It could be a family outing."

January could not help but to frown at the mention of her mother's name. She turned away from the other woman, and allowed her gaze to travel across the sea of humanity that filled the River Days festival beneath her. She did not really see them however. She simply felt the yawning spot in her home that her mother had once occupied.

"You are still disturbed over her moving out?" Blood Raven observed.

"I know it's stupid," January said. "She told me before we even moved into the Witch House that she could not stay there, because of her job. But I guess I just didn't want to think about that. Things were just, going so well, I guess I didn't want any of it to change."

"Feeling loss is never stupid," Blood Raven said. "You have every right to feel that way. Yet I should be remiss were I not to remind you that she yet resides a scant few miles down the street from you. For that matter, you have that book signing at the library on Monday."

"I know," January nodded, "I know."

"I guess, I've just never been on my own. Not for once in my whole life," she went on. "It's just so... quiet. The house feels so empty when I'm the only one in it."

"Perhaps you should adopt a pet?" Blood Raven offered. "The Detroit Zoo might have a lion or tiger in need of a home."

"You didn't watch that TV show about the guy and the big cats did you?" January laughed.

"Nay," now it was Blood Raven's turn to shake her head. "Cray did. It was - how do you say it - cringey?"

"Yeah," January stared down at her feet. "Well, maybe a nice friendly dragon or basilisk will need a home some day. Until then, I don't think I'm ready to take care of another life form."

"Be careful what you wish for..." Blood Raven breathed.

"I know, I might get it," January finished the saying. She scanned the crowds below, wondering if one of those shapes down there might be the Summoner who had eluded them so far.

[Renee]

I just noticed you've been adding dates lately, under each chapter heading. June 22, it says. Must be the final editing date, because yesterday (publish date) was the 26th. And so I wondered how long you've been doing this, because my memory sucks and have you been adding dates all along? Went back a few pages, and for once my memory has not betrayed me. This is a new thing, those dates.

It is Champion vs Champion. The only real difference is whether they have a suit of shiny armor and a sword, a six-shooter and a ten gallon hat, or a cape and cowl.

Very true.

I have known you on the Internet now for about 10 years, Florens. Reading hundreds of your posts over the years, I know you're not a lover of 100% Grade A pure good versus evil. You have a need for gray characters, too. Blood Raven fills this need most of all.

I also think it's good she feels out for those poppet thingies here and there, rather than receive any info they provide passively.

Ah, she's being proactive. Getting to the festival before the Summoner possibly strikes.

Cripes, Raven scared me! As usual, I love the way she phrases things. I'm reading every word. The word 'remiss' for instance. I know this word. I've read it (or heard it in a movie) at some point, yet I can't think of any particular time anybody has ever used it, in everyday speech.

I was going to say an owl, but January should get something Earthbound, I think. She already has a multitude of crows as "pets" in a way. I don't think a large cat would be good; how would she feed it and take care of it? She'd need a huge area to keep it as well. All of this would attract attention. There's also small cats. They pretty much take care of themselves. Something more unique, though. Everyone expects there'll be cat(s) in a Witch House.

Hmm, maybe even something supernatural.

[Acadian]

‘She snapped out her wings and arched her back. Air filled her wings, and she angled more and more out of the dive. Gravity tugged at her with jealous claws, and it felt like her body weighed a thousand pounds. But she was Air. She was a crow. She pulled from the dive, and shot back up above the waves of the river.
Her face was wet from the water that sprayed off the river as she skimmed over its turbulent surface. She changed the angle of her wings, and transformed her increased momentum into altitude. She soared back up into the sky, even as she neared a stall. Finally she evened out, and beat her wings ever onward as she flew along the river.’
- - A wonderful depiction of Stormcrow’s growing skill. With probably a hint of showing off for those on the bridge.

Ahh, and we come to our next destination – the River Days festival. Yes, it certainly seems a likely target for the Summoner.

I wonder if Jan will be learning a ‘Find Familiar’ spell?

[SubRosa]

Renee: I am now including the dates because that is when each episode takes place. You asked me about that before, so I decided to put them in. I wrote the current chapter/book a year ago!

A long time ago (in the misty dawn of Book 6 - Eloise) the team had a council of war in which Blood Raven explained the series of Abyssal summonings, and how she had adopted a strategy of trying to preempt them by being present at every major event. So she and January being at River Days is just keeping with her already adopted strategy.


Acadian: I never realized how many major events there are in Detroit until I started writing this. Practically every weekend in summer there is a festival, race, or what not. Sometimes more than one at the same time, like when the Grand Prix was the same weekend as Ferndale Pride. I made a list of all of them, so I could plot what would be happening all through the timeline.

I am sorry, that was not Chekov's Pet back there. I don't really have any plans for January to adopt a pet just yet. She was just feeling lonely, suddenly living all by herself in a great big house.







Book 7.16 - Hammer Down
June 22


"I spoke with the Ohio Attorney General yesterday, about Lighthammer," she ventured after long moments of silence.

"About his drug war," Blood Raven shook her head. "You should not allow yourself to be drawn into such things."

January set her hands to her hips and stared back at the older woman. "He was there for both of us when we needed him," she retorted.

"He was," Blood Raven nodded. "That does not alter reality. His foolhardy crusade against the peddlers of narcotics is doomed to fail. Do they not teach the law of supply and demand in schools these days? So long as someone wishes to purchase a commodity, another will find a way to provide it. Interdiction does not halt the trade. It only serves to make it more perilous. Which in turn inflates the value of the product, and insures that only the most violent and desperate blackguards are willing to partake in it. Has everyone in this country forgotten Prohibition already? It transformed the American Mafia into a power to be reckoned with. This asinine War on Drugs has done the same for the drug cartels. It is a fool's errand, one that only fills prisons with those too poor to afford a real legal defense. Which begs the question of whether that is the sole reason for it in the first place?"

"Yeah, I get that," January frowned. "He gets it too. He wants out. This is his chance to do it cleanly, legally. I need to help him do that."

"You must follow the dictates of your conscience," Blood Raven sighed. She walked to the edge of the roof. A sudden burst of wind picked up her cape, and sent it snapping out dramatically beside her. "But consider that there is no shortage of windmills to tilt at in this world. Pick and choose the battles you invest yourself in with care."

"About that..." January stepped up beside the elder heroine, and joined her in gazing out across the sea of festival goers below.

"I talked to the Michigan Attorney General as well," January went on. "I told her about the Summoner."

January braced for the other woman's explosion. But Blood Raven said nothing. She merely shook her head, and continued to stare ahead.

"This complicates matters," the other woman eventually spoke. "Please tell me that you did not relate our familial involvement?"

"Of course not," January insisted. She could conjure little good will for her father or brother. But even she did not want to see the Emergency Response Team breaking down their doors in the middle of the night. "I just think that we should be reaching out, and forging relationships. We are not the only ones in the world after all."

"What aid do you believe the police might be able to provide?" Blood Raven turned to face January. "They are utterly incapable of tracking a magician such as our opponent. Were we to have any real suspects..., well, you saw what happened to the Mills family when the police 'investigated' them. Would you care to see more of that rendered upon people such as those Wiccans celebrating the solstice?"

"No, of course not," January insisted. "But keeping this to ourselves feels like ego. Being strong doesn't mean standing alone. It means standing together."

"As much as you probably think it pains me to say it, I do agree," Blood Raven said. "However, I wonder if you have considered all of the ramifications of making others a part of this? Should our enemy truly be a family member, your father or brother say, do you really want the police involved? Do you want the news involved? Every reporter in the state would investigate your family. They will investigate you. Even if they do not discover you are Stormcrow, what do you think that will do to your career as a writer, or your mother's life? You will forever be the daughter, or sister, of a murderer. Do you wish that to hang over your head for the rest of your life?"

"So what, we put people in jeopardy just to protect our good name?" January exploded. "We can't do that."

"It is my utmost desire that no more lives are lost to this Summoner," Blood Raven insisted. "Yet I honestly see no way that involving the constabulary might mitigate that likelihood. As I said before, they are not capable of dealing with this. There is little enough that they are of use for..."

"So then what do we do, if it is my father, or brother," January asked. "What do we do when we catch them?"

"I will kill them," Blood Raven's eyes burned scarlet against the bright blue sky behind her.

"Just like that?" January waved a hand in exasperation. "You're awfully cavalier with other people's lives. We can't just go around killing whomever we feel like."

"I take none of this lightly great-granddaughter, nor should you," Blood Raven replied. "These are no mere thieves or thugs that we face, nor even terrorists such as those Nazis. The law can have such creatures. Nor is our foe some misguided acolyte who is but recklessly using knowledge they have stumbled upon. That was your great-grandfather Jack. He could have been forgiven, could he have been dissuaded from continuing his path. This Summoner is not even a being such as Gola, who has no choice but to take lives in order to survive."

"Rather, again and again, our adversary has called up the Creatures of the Abyss. You have faced them, there is no mistaking what they are. Yet they have deliberately continued this crusade, and intentionally expanded their methods to include murder. Cray was correct. The Summoner has a taste for this, and will continue until we stop him, or he succeeds in calling an army of Abyssals to blot our world from existence."

"I know what you are saying," January said. "But I feel that death should be the last resort, not the first one."

"I should gladly seize upon another solution, were one available," Blood Raven laid a hand on January's shoulder.

"This is the curse upon our family," the elder heroine continued softly. "We are Nátthrafn's means of returning to this world. I fear that will be so for eternity. Were I truly as bloodthirsty as you would seem to think me, I should exterminate every drop of our blood. Yet I cannot bring myself to perpetrate so heinous an act, in spite of what not doing so might cost the world."

"This is now your curse as well great-granddaughter. Even should we stop this Summoner, when we stop them, this danger will never vanish. One of your children, or grandchildren, may well take up this dark crusade once more. This will be their curse too."

"Well, I don't see is any chance of me having children," January glanced down at herself. Even if she ever had surgery, when she had surgery, she would never be able to conceive a child. Before having surgery..., well that was just too gross to consider.

"One never knows. This world is a much wider, and stranger place than any of us can dream." Blood Raven squeezed tightly upon the armored plate covering January's shoulder. "In any event, this burden falls upon us, on us. It is our curse, our doom, and we cannot escape it. We may not ask another to bear this hardship in our place."

"Like most people, I used to dream of being a superhero," January sighed. "I dreamed of being able to fight back against the bullies. I dreamed of being able to fly free of this world, and free to simply be myself. I never imagined it would be anything like this."

"None of us may choose the circumstances of our birth, or the world we are brought into," Blood Raven said. "But we all have power within us. How we nurture that power, and how we use it, that is the true test of our character. Whether we are magical or mundane, superhero or ordinary citizen, matters not. We all make the world what it is. Whether we choose the easy path, or the difficult one, creates the world we will live in."

"I know the world I want to live in," January insisted.

She stared down at the throngs of festival-goers below. That was the world she wanted, one where all people were free to live and love life, without fear and recrimination. She wanted a world in which the circumstances of one's birth did not dictate the course of their life. She wanted a world where a person could live their dreams, without crushing those of others. She would fight for that world.

She prayed that Blood Raven was wrong, and that their enemy was not a member of their extended family. Yet she feared the other woman was correct, and that there was truly no escaping their blood.

[Acadian]

I love Blood Raven’s historical (and accurate) perspective on the law of supply and demand. As well as the older heroine’s advice here:
"But consider that there is no shortage of windmills to tilt at in this world. Pick and choose the battles you invest yourself in with care."

Blood Raven and January play off each other wonderfully. Jan can sometimes act impetuously and Blood Raven can sometimes allow her cynicism to temper her willingness to take action. The two of them together have a more effective ‘balance’ and perspective than either alone. This episode really reinforced what a superb compliment they are to each other and how they each influence the other, overall, for the better.

[Renee]

Yes, as you may know, I am sort of obsessed with dates. It's because whenever I go back to read something which I wrote years ago, I like to have some sort of reference with time. Even if this reference is in-game, and not Earth time. Anyway, glad to know I have influenced. That's amazing: what we're reading now was written a year ago. Wow wow wow.

Jan and Raven disagree about the Hammer. I like that the crow is standing up to her centuries-old relative. I mean, remember, she's still pretty new at all of this, right? Not the acrobatics, not the ability to fight, but the ability to fly, the crusade she's donned against Evil in the Michigan area. It's the grasshopper butting heads with the master. Yet, I also think the master is allowing the grasshopper to do what she will. Make her own mistakes (if they are indeed mistakes being made). Or... maybe not. Maybe Raven has it all wrong.

We shall see.

"You must follow the dictates of your conscience,"

Love the way she speaketh. Any modern sort would say "Like, do what you want, dude." Raven makes every phrase into a small work of prose.

"I know what you are saying," January said. "But I feel that death should be the last resort, not the first one."

Great line.

AT the end I can just imagine she wants to be at that festival, having some fun. But she's also in the position of being watchful.

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Blood Raven remembers when you could walk into a shop and buy cocaine and opium. Just like she remembers when it was illegal to buy beer. This whole drug war business is absolutely asinine to her. But then a lot of things governments do are.

Jan and Blood Raven make a great pair. They each play off one another, and balance each other out really well. They make a great partnership.


Renee: January is very new to this. But she is stubborn, and a fighter. That's is why she is doing this in the first place. She cannot walk away from the Good Fight. OTOH, Blood Raven knows all this, and she knows that telling January that she cannot do something is only going to insure that she will indeed do it. If every parent does not know that about teenagers, they sure ought to! As you said, she knows that January has to live her own life, and make her own mistakes if it comes to that.







Yoga Crow Pose pic

Yoga Flying Crow pic

Ôkami video game

Ôkami in folklore



Book 7.17 - Hammer Down
June 23


January was back on the Post Office roof the next day. The River Days festival played out beneath them once more. Bright lights danced from the seas of rides, along with the mechanical roar of their engines, the clatter of steel on steel, and the music that blared from their speakers. People on jet-skis zipped back and forth along the riverfront, and performed acrobatic acts such as mid-air loops. Food trucks were packed together in the center of the space, and filled the air with the aroma of their treats. It was a veritable sea of humanity.

"You have already learned to use your aetherial senses to feel the presence of nearby people, and to sense their magical or meta-human power." Blood Raven stood facing the festival, hands on her hips. As ever, her cape flowed and flapped slightly around her, even though there was no wind. "You can also use it to sense the intent of others. Strong emotion creates a notable impression upon one's aura. It moves brightly about one filled with joy. Upon one intent to do murder, it will be a cloud of darkness."

January sat atop the white polyurethane-coated roof of the building. Her legs were splayed out to either side of her in the side splits. With her eyes closed, she leaned forward and put her weight upon her hands. From there she lifted herself into the air and pulled her legs in, knees beneath her shoulders. She balanced there in the Crow Pose, and felt out with her astral senses.

As always, Blood Raven shone in the magical realm like a supernova. She was a wellspring of power. January had to take a moment to effectively shade her magical eyes from the great font of energy that was her mentor. Then she was able to feel out farther along. Beneath her, she felt the auras of hundreds of people within the massive postal facility. They hummed away like bees going about their daily tasks, which felt appropriate to January, since these people were working.

Farther beyond January began to feel the energy signatures of those on the street behind her. Like the postal workers, they felt ordinary, just individuals living their daily lives without comment. Then finally she came to the festival. These auras stood on in stark contrast to the others. They were charged with energy. The difference between the two was like comparing plain old corn flakes to double-frosted sugar nukes. The festival-goers were bursting with what she read as excitement and happiness. Their power moved about them in bright patterns, just as Blood Raven had said in her understated manner.

"Some have even learned to use their senses to detect impending danger," Blood Raven continued. "A few have honed that sense to the point where they need not even concentrate. They are simply aware of threats before they materialize."

"Like the Spider was back in the day," January murmured. "They say he had a sense of all incoming danger. He could dodge bullets because he moved before they were even fired."

"Yes, much like that," Blood Raven agreed, "He was a meta-human, rather than a magician. Yet the principle is the same."

January turned her Crow Pose into a Flying Crow. She did so by lowering her left knee to just above her elbow. At the same time she stretched out her right leg straight behind her, angled slightly skyward. She breathed gently in and out, and her muscles sang with the effort.

She felt someone approaching from within the building. They were rising between the floors. But not up the access stair that led down into the bowels of the structure. This was in an empty spot, where no other auras were near. January tried to concentrate upon it, but the harder she tried to discern it, the more it slipped from her grasp. A moment later it was gone completely.

"I thought about what you said." Ryo's voice rang out behind her. January felt her heart leap. She turned back out of reflex. But her shifting weight caused her to fall in a heap upon the springy material of the roof. She rolled with it, and came back up on her feet like a cat. Just like a cat, she pretended she had never fallen in the first place.

Even Blood Raven whirled about, and her cape snapped in the air about her armored frame. She stepped closer, and January noted a smile upon her blood red lips.

"Impressive, most impressive," she said. "You have been practicing."

Ryo stood on the roof a few feet away. Even though it was past noon, the air around him seemed dim, shaded, as if the light had been leeched from it. He was shadow in that darkness, that seemed to want to slide away from January's eyes whenever she tried to focus on him. It was as if he had partly faded from reality, and was not entirely there anymore.

January fixed her astral senses upon him specifically. Now he sprang into focus. She felt the powerful current of his magical energy there, warping reality about him like a black hole.

"I have been practicing," Ryo agreed. "I must, if I am going to be a superhero."

"Then you decided to do it after all," January breathed. "You know you don't have-"

"Of course I have to," Ryo cut her off. "How can I not? I am a part of this world after all. I cannot hide in the shadows my entire life. I must be a part of it."

With that the shadows that had previously clung to his frame slid away. He sprang clearly into the focus of January's meat eyes. He was dressed all in black, with a balaclava mask covering his head and face, except for the strip of flesh around his eyes. A katana hung from his hip, with a black-wrapped hilt and disc-shaped guard. January recognized it of course. According to Ryo, it had been in his family for generations.

"We shall have to refine your attire," Blood Raven noted with a critical eye. "I shall instruct Cray to contact Mr. Blackwood, and see to it that the proper amount of dragon silk is forwarded to him. Hardened plates may require longer however. In any case, we shall need your exact measurements of course."

"Mr. Blackwood?" January asked.

"He makes super suits, at least most of them," Ryo said plainly.

"Yes, he tailored my current armor," Blood Raven asserted. "He is a meta. Not an inventor such as Gadget. Rather his abilities appear to run toward molecular rearrangement. This allows him to sew his suits whole cloth, so to speak."

"Wow," January thought about that for long moments. She had never really thought about where all those suits came from that every superhero and villain wore. She had just assumed that as Gadget had done, everyone made their own. But expecting everyone to be a seamstress, or blacksmith, was clearly unrealistic.

"I think Gadget has plenty of cubic born nitride lying around," January offered. "I know he's been working on something lately..." January did not say what she thought that might be out loud. She did not want to steal his thunder after all. Nor his fusion, if what she suspected was true.

"You shall require a new sword as well," Blood Raven stared at the weapon appraisingly.

"This has been in my family since before they came to America." Ryo took a step back, and clutched his katana with a protective grip.

"Exactly," Blood Raven said. "It creates a direct link between you and your alter-ego. How long until it transpires that someone recognizes it, and you, by association?"

Ryo was silent, and stared down at the white panels of the roof under their feet. January felt for him. But Blood Raven was right. There could be no ties between their double-lives. Being a closeted queer person for half of her life had taught her that.

"Fear not, I shall forge you a new sword," Blood Raven said casually. "I have not done so in over half a century. It shall be good practice."

"You forge swords?" The Japanese-American man asked.

"I do a great many things," Blood Raven intoned. She put out a hand and opened her fingers. January felt magic stir there, folding space and time around her hand. A moment later she held a sword in her hand. It is a leaf-bladed longsword, with a double-edged blade made of black steel, that was cut through with watery, irregular patterns of silver-white.

Ogham Runes were etched down the blade. January could not read the script. But she did not have to. She heard the sword repeat the words across the astral. She could not tell if they were in Gaelic or English. But she understood them as clearly as she saw the raven sword before her.

The raven ravenous
Among corpses of men
Affliction and outcry
And war everlasting

The crossguard under the blade was gleaming black, and carved with the likeness of a pair of raven's wings. In its center was a raven's head seen from top down. That gave it a triangular shape, with beak facing the fuller of the blade and eyes that glowed red. The grip below is wrapped leather the color of dried blood, and the bronze pommel was shaped in form of the tail feathers of a raven, forming a "V" shape that trailed to a point at the end.

January could sense that the enchantments upon the blade would render it unbreakable, and likely able to cut through most any physical obstruction, perhaps many magical ones as well. She could not guess what other surprises it might have in store. But she had no doubt that there was even more to the weapon than met the eye, physical or astral.

Something about it also felt familiar. January saw her hand reach out to it. The sword answered with the croak of a raven. It reached back to her. Not in the physical world of course, but in the astral. It felt, familiar, like it was a part of her, or she was a part of it.

"This is Samhain," Blood Raven declared. "It knows you. I forged this steel using carbon from my own bone. I quenched it in my own blood. That is your bone, and your blood, as that of all my descendants. It has taken a liking to you. If ever you shall require it, the blade will answer your call."

"I forged it in Egypt, shortly before the Great War. I came into conflict with what you would now call a black hat. She was armed with the panoply of that land's once great and terrible Queen Nitokris. I required something to counter her weaponry. I have had occasion to use it since."

"That's not the same sword you used in Ferndale," January noted. That particular blade had been unmistakable. It had literally roared like a dragon in the astral, as if it really was that mythological creature, rather than just an enchanted blade.

With that in mind, January allowed her astral senses to fade, and brought her awareness back to solely the mundane world. It still gave her a headache when she spent too long interacting with the astral and physical at the same time.

"Y Ddraig Aur?" Blood Raven raised an eyebrow. "That is a blade not drawn lightly. It must not taste the blood of mortals, lest it grow too fond of such victuals. It was forged to end Abyssals, and that is the only purpose it must ever serve."

"You speak of it as if it was alive," Ryo declared.

"Why it is," Blood Raven answered calmly. "All magical workings are, after a fashion. We breathe our energy into them, forge their patterns within reality, and set their destinies in motion. Many of them live long, long, beyond us. Who is to say in the end, who is more alive?"

"So have you thought of a name?" January asked. She just knew that Ryo was about to start arguing over the definition of life. He could be single-minded that way. It was better to head him off and distract him. "If we don't put one out first, Gilda will end up naming you."

"She appears to have chosen wisely in your case great-granddaughter," Blood Raven noted. Just that easily, the Celtic sword vanished from her hand. Where it had gone to, January did not know. Blood Raven had a way of calling things to her, similar to how January could instantly change into her armor, even over a distance.

"Yeah, she is pretty good at it," January murmured. "Though I imagine the crow symbol on my chest and the lightning storm I created helped."

"Ôkami," Ryo breathed, "the Spirit Wolf."

"Like in the video game?" January wondered aloud.

"That was Amaterasu," Ryo declared. "The okuri-ôkami are the sending wolves, the messengers of the kami."

"Yes, they are protector spirits, who guide travelers home through the mountains, and protect them from harm," Blood Raven nodded. "They are similar to the black dog tales in Western folklore. They are a guide and guardian if treated with respect. A dangerous foe when crossed. You have chosen-."

[Acadian]

I found your description of the ability to sense intent using aethereal senses fascinating – and handy indeed!

Haha, excellent job when Jan was distracted by Ryo’s arrival and fell in a heap. Comparing her to a cat who projects, “I meant to do that, of course,” was cute and very easy to picture.

Mr. Blackwood’s Superhero Shoppe! I love it! And how astute of the experienced Blood Raven to point out that Ryo should change to a more untraceable weapon.

Okami it is for Ryo then!

Have you left us with a cliffhanger then? I wonder what has interrupted Blood Raven?


Nits:
’Bright lights danced from the seas of rides, along {with?} the mechanical roar of their engines,’
’Then she was able to feel out father {farther?} along.’

[Renee]

This part

..."Some have even learned to use their senses to detect impending danger," Blood Raven continued. "A few have honed that sense to the point where they need not even concentrate. They are simply aware of threats before they materialize."....

is really important. Though they are aware of threats before they materialize, they might not even be aware that they are aware. It's a subconscious activity, in other words, but also something which is right on the edge of consciousness. Something might bother them, yet they don't really know why. And so on.

Whoa, Ryo returns. Even the capes don't know he's coming entirely, though they can sense him coming.

That's also a good point about suits. Right! How do all those suits get made in the first place? I'm not very knowledgeable about superheros, but somebody has to make their suits. I suppose the Marvel and D.C. Comic characters all had some explanations.

Old Norse!

Ôkami," Ryo breathed, "the Spirit Wolf."

"Like in the video game?" January wondered aloud.

I wonder why it just cuts off at the end. Branwen is speaking and it seems like she's been interrupted mid-sentence.

This post has been edited by Renee: Jul 14 2021, 04:07 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: I am leaning on my Shadowrun experience with the idea that you can see a person's mood in their aura. And for that matter, that the moods of many people will spill out and affect astral space around them. They call the latter a background count. Happy, positive events like concerts will create a positive background count. Dark and cruel places like prisons will create a negative one. This way that astral space is altered effects how magic works, as the count will add to or subtract from magic cast within the area, depending on whether it aligns with the count, or is counter to it.

Jan's surprise and fall into a heap was a little way of showing that she is still not perfect, in spite of being a superhero.

After all this time since I asked for advice on the name, Okami is now officially a thing.

As ever, thank you for finding those nits and helping me correct them.


Renee: I was basically putting a magical explanation on how Spider-Man's danger sense works. I am not sure if I am going to incorporate it into January or Ryo's toolkits or not. It would be a handy way to get them to danger spots in time to react to them. But I have not decided yet.

In comics they do occasionally show people making their own suits. In the Batgirl comics they did a change up to her outfit a while back. They explained why by saying there was a fire that burned up her suit, so she had to whip up a new one quickly. And they had a couple panels showing her sewing it.

OTOH, in shows like The Incredibles, there are people like Edna who create the suits that supers wear. I created Mr. Blackwood with her in mind, and decided that he would have superpowers of his own to make the suits with. And that would allow him to do really unique and scientifically impossible things with them. Like unstable molecules that grow and shrink with the wearer. I got his name from an old fashion critic named Mr. Blackwell, who is no longer around. That and Michael Caine's character from Miss Congeniality. We will meet him in the next Book.

We are about to learn why Blood Raven's words cut off at the end...







Ambassador Bridge Pic


Video of the Ambassador Bridge



Book 7.18 - Hammer Down
June 23


Blood Raven stopped in mid-sentence. She turned from the pair of young heroes, and stared intently out across the river. January followed her gaze, and called on Sága to turn on her telescopic vision. A pair of eye-pieces slid down over her eyes, and a moment later the Ambassador Bridge leaped up in sharp focus before her.

She saw a semi-truck slide sideways down two lanes of traffic. It must have struck something, for an instant later it tipped over onto its side, and sent an eruption of sparks skyward as metal scraped across concrete. The long trailer behind the cab did not like that, for it jumped skyward. Gravity pulled it back however, and it came crashing down to the roadway and bounced sideways.

It slammed into a Mazda, and sent the much smaller vehicle rocketing to the side of the bridge. The compact car crashed through the barrier on the edge of the bridge, and sent concrete plummeting to the river over a hundred feet below. The Mazda followed, and bounced between two steel girders that rose skyward at opposite angles. It hung there between the girders, and teetered on the edge of the abyss.

January's heart leaped in her throat, and lightning scattered across the sky overhead. Blood Raven was already airborne, knifing through the sky toward the danger. January's wings snapped out from her arms a moment later. She crouched down to get a good spring before leaping skyward, when Ryo leaped on her back, between the two wings.

"Take me with you!" he cried.

January did not say a word. Instead she shot into the firmament, and hoped that Ryo could hold on. No, not Ryo, he was Ôkami now, just as she was Stormcrow.

He clung to her shoulders, then slid his grip down to the straps that held the chest plate of her armor onto her torso. Otherwise he did not interfere with her flight at all. In fact, he seemed to hardly weigh a thing. It was if he had nearly faded from reality, and she only pulled along his ghost.

Which January imagined was probably true. He seemed to almost fade from existence when he used his powers. She had thought he might be phasing, as she knew some metas could do. Or that he controlled shadows, and transformed into them. Perhaps he did both, and neither. She wondered if he even knew exactly what he did just yet. After all, it had taken her some time to realize that her powers were shaped by the elements, and remade them in turn.

Air give me quickness in body and wit. Let the weights of the world fall from me.

January pushed her friend from her mind. Instead she concentrated solely on her flight. She coaxed more and more speed from her wings, and willed them to propel her down the length of the river to the towering bridge to the south. Blood Raven remained directly ahead of her, and January followed her right up to the blue-green girders of the massive structure.

"The driver has suffered a massive stroke," the older heroine said calmly. "Can you deal with the car?"

"We've got it," January assured the other woman. Inwardly, she had no idea whether or not that was true. But she would not concede defeat before the battle had even begun.

January focused on the car. It was a bright red hatchback. The rear end was caved in, and now jutted precariously over the side of the bridge. Even as she watched, the car slowly tipped, and began an inexorable plunge toward the water below.

Not one inch farther. January willed the vehicle to stop. Her body made it reality. She slammed into the back of car, and grabbed hold of both sides of its frame. Her wings separated from her arms, and beat furiously against the air. The car teetered, then hovered there above her. A child's face stared back at her through the back window, eyes wide in horror. She was just inches away through the glass. Close enough for January to count every strand of the dark hair plastered against her cheeks.

January barely felt Ôkami somersault over her back. She saw him fade right through the cracked glass and twisted steel of the car. He took hold of the child in one hand, and then she faded with him. They vanished through the front of the car above. But January heard screams coming from inside. So there were still clearly people left in danger.

Blood Raven was a red flash over the surface of the bridge. January heard the scream of steel tearing. A moment later a door from the truck went tumbling over the side of the bridge, only to splash into the rushing waters of the river far below. The older heroine came into view a moment later, cradling a bearded man in her arms.

"Can you hold this?" She stared at January intently. "I can maintain this one's life for the nonce. Yet without a hospital, he shall certainly perish."

"We've got it," January insisted. "Go!"

Blood Raven was a streak of red and black across the sky as she sped eastward, across the river into Canada. In the meantime January could see the faded shape of Ôkami delving back into the Mazda. He took hold of another person, and pulled them into his half-real, half other state of being. Then like with the little girl, he leaped through the car with them, to vanish onto the surface of the bridge over head.

The steel of the car groaned in her hands. She could feel the frame twisting above her. Glass popped from the side windows, as it contorted into shapes that Mazda's engineers had never anticipated. The car groaned, as if angry at how it had been misused, and it seemed to want to take that anger out upon January.

January's wings beat against the crushing weight of the vehicle. It was small, a compact in fact. If she had been on the ground, it would have been child's play to pick up. But her feet had nothing to brace themselves against. She had no way of exerting her strength. She had only her wings, and her power to defy gravity. Right now, it seemed that gravity was slowly beginning to win...

"Hurry up Ôkami," she breathed. "I can't hold this much longer!"

"Last one," she heard her friend say from within the car. She saw his shadow move across the front seat. Then she heard a yelp as he took hold of the final occupant. A moment later he was a dark stain that rose through the windshield, only to disappear from view a moment later.

"All clear," his voice called out.

A wave of relief washed over her. That was her undoing. She let her efforts relax for just a moment. That was all the tortured vehicle required to finally tear completely free of the bridge. That crushing weight became an unstoppable force, sending January straight down to the river below. Her wings beat against it to no avail. It was just too big, too heavy, for her to hold aloft.

She tried to dart out of its way. But the force of the wind at her back pinned her against the car. Her hands dug down through the steel of the car, but it just tumbled and rolled above her, almost shapeless now as the frame snapped. Tortured steel groaned in her ears, competing with the growing noise of the waves.

Then she hit the surface of the river. It was like slamming into concrete. It knocked the wind right out of her, just like her first day in krav maga class. January saw stars for a moment. She could not move. She could not breathe. She felt water against her face. A moment later she heard her mask snap shut over her features, and sweet, sweet oxygen return to her lungs.

She was able to move again. But the car was still on top of her, pushing her down. Her wings beat against the water, sending it roiling in great, chaotic riptides. It kicked up mud from the river bottom, and turned the green water to dark brown. That almost completely blotted out the light that filtered in above. She struggled to get free of the infernal car. Just when she thought she was about to make it, she felt her back hit something soft, but unyielding.

It was the river bottom. All of her life January had heard that not only could the Detroit River's currents be treacherous, but that the mud that lined its bed was an impenetrable mire. Once something went into it, it never came out again. All of the weight of the Mazda came bearing down upon her once more. It shoved her down into the soggy floor of the Detroit River.

Her heart raced, and for a moment, she did panic. She railed against the hatchback with hands, feet, and wings. The car dimpled and shattered beneath her. But all her efforts did was plunge her deeper into the cold embrace of the mud.

"January hold on," she heard Gadget's voice in her ear now. "Ôkami is on the way."

That snapped her back to reality. She forced her breathing to slow, in and out, just as years of yoga and meditation had taught her. She felt her energy. She let it flow gently through her body, and cleanse her of the toxicity of fear. The words of her elemental mantra came unbidden to her mind, and she let them roll around her thoughts.

Earth give me strength, keep me grounded, protect me from harm.

Air give me quickness in body and wit. Let the weights of the world fall from me.

Water make me flexible in thought and form. Let me flow, let me crash.

Fire give me passion and energy. Let me burn bright in the night sky.

Spirit weave all together in balance. Bring me peace.

"I'm okay," January insisted. "I've got this. Tell our spirit wolf friend I'll be right back up there."

She was water, and just as it could crash, it could flow. So too could she. She concentrated upon that idea, and willed it into reality. Instead of straining against the overbearing weight of the car on top of her, or against the impenetrable mire of mud beneath, she simply flowed through them.

In a moment she slipped free of the mud, and undulated through the smashed rear window. The back seat was instantly in her way, torn loose from the floor and hurled diagonally across the interior of the car. Again, she flowed around it, imagining herself as a serpent rather than a woman.

The safety glass of the front windshield was a mass of spiderwebs, but otherwise it was still intact. Whoever had made that, had clearly done their jobs well. January was unperturbed. With one wing, she sliced through the glass as if it was tissue paper. A second swipe with her other wing shattered the tortured glass into a dozen small shards that flowed away with the current.

She sprang outward through the glass, free of the vehicle at last. The water was so muddy, that she could not see a thing. Then she remembered something she had seen in a nature documentary. When divers became disorientated, they could have trouble telling up from down. But they could always follow their bubbles back to the surface.

With that in mind she took a deep gulp of air. Then she turned off her air supply by swiping a finger across Sága's display on her forearm. Cool water instantly slapped against her face. She released a little air from her mouth, and was pleased to see the bubbles stream their way along. She beat down hard against the water with her wings. That gave her a great burst of speed, and propelled her up through the waves. The light returned in moments, and she kicked hard for the surface above. Her head broke through the waves moments later, and then she was clear of the water and rising skyward once more.

She heard a cheer rise from the bridge overhead. She turned in that direction, and saw that its edge was now crowded with onlookers. That included Ôkami, who now perched on one of the giant steel cables that curved above the girders of the bridge, and rose to one of the massive towers beyond.

January pushed herself skyward. Just as when rising from a pool, the water of the river clung to her, weighing her down like lead. But she pushed through it, and willed herself higher. She took a great gulp of fresh air, and breathed easily once more. That had not gone anywhere near how she would have liked. But at least she was out, and the people trapped in the car were safe.

She saw them standing on the edge of the bridge. She recognized the young girl by her features of course. The other two were easy enough to guess at, as they were the only ones with hair and clothing mussed, and skin purpled with bruises and abrasions. January forced away a frown at the sight of the injuries. She knew exactly how that felt, and worse.

She winged her way over to the bridge. Massive suspension cables gently curved up to the nearest of the span's two towers. They held up the body of the road beneath them with thick ropes of steel. Those steel cables formed a vertical row of barriers to her flight. If she caught one wing upon them it would send her falling to the street below, or worse, back into the river. That would look wonderful on Worldwide Network News.

January blocked everything else out, and concentrated solely upon her flight. She willed herself to thread the needle between two of those vertical cables. Then she pulled in her wings, and dropped lightly to the concrete roadway below. Once she was safely down, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had not screwed that up in front of everyone. Otherwise she knew that she would be seeing that on social media for years.

She folded her wings up against her back, but did not transform them back into a cape. She was getting used to having them around more often, and using them for more than just flight. It was good practice. Besides, it certainly was a good reminder that she was the Stormcrow after all.

She glanced up to Ôkami, and motioned for him to come down. He stared back at her, but otherwise did not leave his perch. January resisted the urge to shake her head. She certainly understood his desire to avoid crowds. But it was part of what they were. They could use moments like these to make a positive impression with people. To show them what they stood for. If only they grasped at the opportunity.

January moved to the family from the ill-fated compact car. She took a moment to study the injuries of each. The last thing she wanted was for one to suddenly fall dead on the pavement because they had slashed open an artery on a jagged piece of metal in the crash. She had to make sure that did not happen. But she saw no signs of anything worse than bumps and scrapes, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry about your car," January said to the family. "I don't think you'll be getting it back, at least not without help from Jacques Cousteau."

"It's insured," one of the two adult women insisted. "Thank you so much for being there when you were. If not for you and your friend, we would be goners for sure."

"Now I know how that guy in the old asylum felt when the ghost attacked him," the other woman murmured. "I wish I had worn my brown pants today too."

"I can relate," January nodded. "Color-safe bleach helps too..."

"But you're a hero!" their little girl cried. "You can't be scared!"

"Maybe." January knelt down to look the child in the eye. "But I'm still no different from anyone else. No different from you. We all feel scared sometimes. Well, maybe not Blood Raven. The monsters are all afraid that she's under their beds. But it's ok to be afraid, or angry, or sad, or anything else. It's what you do with those feelings that matter. Believe me, you can do anything."

"So who is your friend Stormcrow?" A new person stepped up with their phone's light glowing brightly. More people took up the question, and January was about to look back up again, when the crowd recoiled slightly. January felt a rush of air beside her, and heard a light scuff of feet landing on concrete.

"I am Ôkami," he said simply.

"Like the Japanese spirit wolf," January added when everyone merely stared back blankly. "He's my friend. We'll be working together from now on."

"We are blocking traffic," Ôkami noted. January followed his glance back and saw that while the overturned truck had blocked all the traffic headed to the American side, all of the cars going in the opposite direction had stopped as well. Even now their drivers were getting out and pulling out phones to record everything.

"EMS is on the way," Cray's voice said in her ear. "Blood Raven has the truck driver at a hospital. He suffered a massive brain hemorrhage. Looks like she will be there for a while, so don't wait for her."

"Ok, let's see if we can clear some of this." January walked back to the semi. It looked like it had been gargled by a space slug and spat out. The front windshield was cracked in a dozen places, the metal frame was scraped up and dented, and one door was completely missing. The long trailer that stretched out behind was in little better condition.

"If I can tip it back on its wheels, maybe we can get it to the side," she murmured. "You think you can do that - thing you do - to make it lighter?"

"I do not believe I can fade anything that large," Ôkami said.

"Every little bit helps," January shrugged. With that she stepped around to the roof of the tractor half of the vehicle. She dug her fingers into what she hoped were the strongest, load-bearing parts of the structure. In the meanwhile Ôkami took hold as well, and the cab seemed to dim slightly, as if a cloud has passed over the sun. January heaved with all of her might, being careful to lift with her legs rather than her back.

The truck did not budge. Gravity seemed to glue it to the concrete below.

January took a deep breath. She felt her energy flow through her, and cleanse her body like a cool mountain stream. She visualized the truck rising from the ground. She saw it tip back over onto its wheels. She poured her energy into that image, and willed it to become reality.

Earth give me strength, keep me grounded, protect me from harm.

With that the battered cab of the truck lifted up under January's hands. She felt her fingers dig deeply into the metal. But she did not slow down. She pulled, and pulled, and felt her muscles groan with the effort. She would not be deterred. She knew the reality she wanted to create, and would not stop at nothing until it took form.

Then the truck fell free from her fingers, and dropped onto its giant tires. It rocked back and forth as it settled back to its proper place on the earth. January looked back and saw that the trailer had tilted back up with it. That is when she realized that if perhaps she had uncoupled it first, she could have probably moved each separately, and with much less effort.

Ôkami got into the cab to steer, while January pushed it as far over to one side as she could. There were only two lanes of traffic on this side of the bridge, but that opened one up. By the time they were finished, an ambulance had come up from the American side. Its team of paramedics set to looking at the occupants of the ill-fated Mazda.

"I think we should leave now," Ôkami noted. January followed his gaze to the crowd of onlookers that had gathered. Traffic on the bridge was still halted in each direction. But now it was solely because of them.

January gave a wave. Then she grabbed hold of Ôkami, and rose up into the sky. They still had to keep watch out for the Summoner after all.

[Renee]

Batgirl's suit burned up!? Yikes. So that's closer to basic human apparel, then.

Those telescopic eyes sound convenient. I was doing some bird-watching this week (bluebirds have returned to central Maryland after decades of absence!) and binoculars are really frickin' hard to hold without micro-shaking. That would be cool to have something which is fixed right on someone's head like that.

I was basically putting a magical explanation on how Spider-Man's danger sense works. I am not sure if I am going to incorporate it into January or Ryo's toolkits or not. It would be a handy way to get them to danger spots in time to react to them.

Sure that's fine. Like a sort of safety net (story-wise), just in case.

Whoa! Yikes! Oh gosh, Ryo jumped on her back! He'd better not slip off... Okay yeah, he's able to transmute his physical self away. So it's good that Ryo is there to save those trapped in the car.

"I can maintain this one's life for the nonce. Yet without a hospital, he shall certainly perish."

Even in moments of peril, Branwen speaks like someone from the Victorian age!

No, no, let go of the cAr!!! .. Uh oh, she's trapped. But can't she just call upon the element of water? sorry. Talking to my screen again. Ha! I was right.

I like her sermon at the end. That's very superhero-ish, to give a sermon like that to the crowd. This episode is interesting because it seems random, by the way. It doesn't seem like any of the villains in this story so far were involved, eh? Just a random accident, which was witnessed by Raven. Maybe I'm wrong, of course. We shall see.

[Acadian]

Nice how Okami and Stormcrow’s powers worked together to enable a flight for two to the bridge.

The line that Renee quoted is indeed a perfect example of the ‘Blood Raven’ speak that you write so well and consistently for the older heroine.

Wow, that was quite the nail-biter for a time as Jan struggled into the mudmire at the bottom of the river with a Mazda on top of her. As Renee mentioned, becoming one with the water was the perfect solution for Stormcrow.

And in typical Stormcrow fashion, she does not ‘Rescue and Run’, but lingers to help deal with the aftermath.

[SubRosa]

Renee: Branwen is someone from the Victorian age. Well, older. So it is not difficult for her to sound that way. Quite the opposite in fact.

She did call on the element of water in the end. I wanted to show that while January is super, she is not omnipotent with that scene. In the end she was done in by a Mazda. I also wanted something nice and low level to give Ryo a first outing as a super. Plus to show that a super's life is not all fist fights with supervillains. They do pure rescues as well.

So this was not part of a supervillains master plot. Just a slice of superhero life. At some point I do hope to work in January saving a cat from a tree as well. It's a classic after all.


Acadian: Okami has some really neat powers, sort of a mix of phasing and shadow transformation/manipulation. He fades from reality. That makes him a great sneaky sort of person, and a great rescuer, since he can walk through walls, or cars.

The Detroit River is incredibly dangerous. It is not very long, or wide, but its current is fast and treacherous. The water is murky, and the mud at the bottom is infamous for swallowing things whole. So I have been looking for an opportunity to include the river somewhere in January's tale.

January usually tries to stick around, rather than rescue and run, like her seven-times great-grandmother. She is very conscious that how she behaves shapes people's perceptions of her, and also how they behave themselves.






The Warren Civic Center Library can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map

Warren City Hall/Library

January in her book signing outfit



Book 7.19 - Hammer Down
June 24

The Warren Civic Center sat directly across Van Dyke Avenue from the General Motors Technical Center. A great blue high rise office building within the latter was clearly visible from the civic center, in spite of the bank and day care center that sat between the center and the main road beyond.

The civic center itself was a complex of buildings, dominated by the four-story, glass faced structure of the combination city hall and library. Some might call it a Modernist masterpiece, others an eyesore. The squatting beside it was a simple sandstone parking structure, connected to it by a glass annex. Finally, the brown brick police station squatted like a sleeping turtle farther north, and behind it sat the tan blocks of the district courthouse.

The library took up the ground floor of the main building. January had never been within the floors above that made up the city hall. But the interior of the library was cozy. The ends of the book stacks were cut into wavy lines, rather than just plain rectangular blocks. The floor was carpeted varying bands of orange, brown, and dark purple, and the walls were decorated with the works of local artists.

Right now January stood within a conference room that was literally filled with people. There were so many that they were standing in the back and around the sides. Most of those people were in their teens and early twenties. But a few older faces stared back at her. Some of them were familiar, starting with her mother, who practically beamed with pride. Branwen hovered next to her, looking casual in a green summer dress and strappy shoes.

January also noted Avery in the back, flanked by Blackjack and Ryo. The latter was of course half-hidden in the background, as was his wont. All of them were dressed simply, in jeans and tees.

January had stepped up her own clothing game. She wore a pink dress decorated with flowers. She draped a velvet blazer of deep blue over that to give her a slightly more professional look. Both had been practically a steal at the local resale shop just down the street from the Witch House. A pair of strappy flats rounded out her look, and made up with comfort, what they might have lacked in style.

She paused to step back to the podium and take a sip of water. She had been talking for at least an hour - relating her experiences with self-publishing, making use of crowd-sourcing, and just writing in general. When her mother had convinced her to give this talk, she had been afraid that she would have nothing to say. It turned out that being a writer, she had a lot of say! But finally she had run out of steam. So she wrapped up her prepared remarks, and asked for questions.

"Do you know Stormcrow?" was the first one from the audience, asked by a girl who could not have been more than a few years younger than herself.

"I wish," January said. "But I am afraid that we have never met."

"Who are your heroes?" asked another one.

"If you want the long list, we will be here for years," January said. "But for the short one... Mary Shelly, Princess Diana, Katherine Johnson, Ada Lovelace, Katherine Hepburn, Pearl Buck, Harriet Tubman. The list goes on and on. Some of them are not perfect. A lot of them are not. But that is one of the things that they taught me. You can be a mess and still make the world a better place."

"But my real hero is my mom," January nodded to her mother, Barbara. "Like me, she's made her mistakes. But she always keeps fighting. She taught me to fight in fact. She taught me that I can keep on going, in spite of everything the world throws at me. She will always be my guiding star."

January saw Barbara tearing up. Which made her own eyes water. She was thankful when the next question was something more mundane, about the tools she used to write. The rest of the Q & A was a similar gamut. From very personal things like whether it was true that she was trans, to technical things like how to start a crowd-funding site.

Afterward came a book-signing. She had actual, physical books, thanks to a deal that Branwen had helped set up. Because of that she had a whole stack of This Spell for Hire hardcopies to sell and sign. Though signing mostly meant taking a selfie with the buyer rather than writing in their newly purchased novels.

She even had some free copies of Artemis Argent and the Secret of Mystery Hill to give out. They were not full versions of course. Rus was still toiling away at the grunt work of drawing and coloring the first issue. But she did have copies of a four page teaser from it, all hand-bound by herself. These she gave away for free to everyone who bought a book. She kept her fingers crossed that the advertising would translate into sales down the road. Otherwise she had wasted her printer's ink cartridges for nothing.

Her phone dinged in the middle of the book signings. She glanced over to see that it was a text from Rus. She read it, and could not contain a whoop of joy. That caused all around to stare at her with varying mixtures of surprise and amusement.

"That was Rus," she explained. "He officially quit working for his dad, because we just hit our goal for Artemis Argent on Jumpstarter!"

"See, I told you that the donations would come rolling in after Gilda Gadfly talked about you last Thursday!" Barbara grinned. "That's the second time she came through for you."

"I guess it was a good thing that I went back and did that podcast the second time after all," January mused. It had certainly been stressful, to the say the least. But as her alter-ego of Stormcrow was wont to say, giving people a second chance was important. It had certainly been good for her this time.

By the time it was all over, she was exhausted. She had spent the entire afternoon making mini-comics to hand out, and finally the evening schmoozing with fans and hopeful writers. She had actual fans! That part was difficult enough to wrap her brain around, though certainly welcome. But all of this socializing was wearing. She could not imagine how real celebrities could do it all the time.

Most of her days were so easy: a few hours doing yoga and gymnastics, followed by a few more hours of sparring, and then the rest of the day writing, goofing off on the internet, and reading books. Being outgoing with people, being perky and fun and thoughtful, and trying not to say stupid things, was so much work. Her mother made it look so easy. But January would rather spend the evening pushing semi trucks around. It was much less exhausting.

When it was all over she could not wait to just go home and crash in bed. She had a big day tomorrow. The drug shipment was coming into Cleveland, and there was no doubt that she would have a real fight on her hands when it got there.

[Acadian]

A wonderful interlude before Lighthammer’s drug war begins, as Jan’s writing career really begins to break into the big time!

I love your opening as we start not really knowing what this episode will be about, then you work us down into the library as we begin to realize Jan is doing a real book signing! And I got a kick from your opening description about the police station squatting like a sleeping turtle. What a mishmash of architectures Detroit sounds like.

I also liked that you took the time to describe the wardrobe opted for this event by both Jan and Branwen.
Edit: Complete with picture now! Nice.

Jan is still not comfortable being the center of attention or ‘performing’ in front of strangers but she really is getting pretty good at it. It also says a lot that all the folks in her life who are important were there supporting her.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jul 25 2021, 11:57 AM

[SubRosa]

Ope! I forgot to add a link to a pic of January in her book signing outfit. It is a picture of Georgie Stone, my model for January's appearance.

[Renee]

Nice to see all the main characters, and some of the side characters, all in one place. Branwen in a dress in particular has me ... Red & green, the particular combination which seems so odd, yet it often works.

"Do you know Stormcrow?" was the first one from the audience,

Yikes! She is forced to tell a lie at that moment. Don't blame her, but still.... that's one pretty close call.

Princess Diana is a great hero on her list. I just read about her here online a few months ago. In particular I love the fact that before she stepped up to her duties as princess, she actually held some rather common job(s), displeasing some of the royalty around her. In general, somewhat of a rebel.

Pearl Buck too.

This is really touching, the fact that she's giving out early, hand-bound copies of her work. *Renee sheds a couple tears*

[SubRosa]

Acadian: We have just episodes left in the chapter. But before we got to the superhero crescendo I wanted to get a slice of January's personal life in there as well. This whole series is very much a balancing act between the two.

Detroit is a weird looking place because the city is so old. It was started in 1701 by Cadillac. So it has a mish-mash of architecture going back for centuries all sitting side by side. Then you get the new stuff like the Warren Civic Center. The old city buildings were all torn down about a decade ago, and the current ones put up. But when they did it, they used a variety of art styles. The main City Hall/Library is this glass Modernist affair. While the police station and courthouse are almost Brutalist structures in their simplicity. If they had been made of cement, they would look like something from the Soviet Union.

This was also a nice opportunity to show how January is gradually getting better at speaking to groups, thanks to both experiences like this in her normal identity, and as Stormcrow.


Renee: Branwen has red hair and green eyes in her civilian identity. So I went with the green dress to really go with that.

The podcast You're Wrong About has a 5 part series on Princess Diana. She was very much an outsider in the Royal family, and never fit into their strange and frankly abusive world. She was just too nice, and just too joyful and free-spirited. As you alluded to, she was a school teacher. She was born to an aristocratic family, but she lived a pretty normal life. For example, she got in big trouble with them because she left their Scottish castle to be with a friend of hers who was dying of Aids. And one of the reasons she was selected to marry Charles was that she was a virgin. They literally interviewed every boyfriend she had ever had and questioned them to find out if she had ever had sex.

This was all a nice little moment to show that January's personal/professional life is finally starting to go well. Well enough for her to be truly self-sufficient when it comes to her day to day living.












Cleveland Docks

First Energy Stadium

MSC Gayane

Nitrokis armor

Khopesh


Book 7.20 - Hammer Down
June 25

January sat in the side splits, legs spread out horizontally in either direction. She did not sit on the concrete floor however. Instead she was suspended in the air by a pair of chairs, one under each of her feet. Her eyes were closed, and she slowly breathed in and out. She moved her mana through her body with each breath. The cool energy washed her clean, and left her feeling calm and ready for anything.

"That looks painful," she heard Special Agent Jack Ortiz mutter. "How does someone even do that?"

"Shhh," Anaya Baqri from the Ohio Attorney General's office whispered. "She's trying to concentrate."

"It's ok," January breathed, "there are always distractions. One of the reasons I do this is so I can learn to concentrate in spite of them."

"How's that working out so far?" Andrea Jackson from the DEA asked.

"Pretty good."

Even though January's eyes were closed, she had reached out through the astral. She could sense all of her surroundings through its sometimes kaleidoscopic rush of sensations. She could not just see things in her head, she could smell them, touch them, even taste them sometimes. She never knew how she was going to perceive any one thing. But the more she practiced, the easier it became to accept the chaos.

They were perched high up within the framework of First Energy Stadium, where the Cleveland Browns played - badly - every Sunday in the fall. Thankfully it was not football season yet, so the giant, open-air amphitheatre was empty. They were perched beneath the bleachers of the upper stands, two-thirds of the way up the stadium. The wide concourse that circled the stadium's interior was beneath the concrete under their feet. A short half wall hid them from outside view, with the name of the stadium written across its outer face. But that opened up just a few feet away to provide a perfect view of the docks beyond.

It was not a place meant for people to sit. Rather it was just an empty space normally only accessible to maintenance crews. It was amazing the number of places that federal badges opened up, not to mention state prosecutors. Now January and a handful of agents waited in their perch, keeping a close eye on the port below.

January stretched her feelings beyond her immediate surroundings. She sensed the dead and cold concrete street that circled the stadium. Beyond it was the warm and inviting scent of a thin ring of trees. Farther out stretched a still and sterile parking lot that was nearly empty of vehicles. January could sense a large, rectangular warehouse, or some other sort of port structure, within the lot. It was empty however, with no warm glows of light inside except for a few birds that flitted among its metal rafters. Past the lot were the blue-green waves of Lake Erie, contained within the breakwater that divided the port from the wider expanse of deep blue water beyond.

To her left January could sense the docks. They were indentations cut within the solid concrete, creating long piers between each that were wide enough to hold two freighters apiece. The nearest was empty, with a giant white crane that loomed up at its near edge. But several piers down, she did perceive a long, dark lake freighter tied up to the shore.

To her right the barren parking lot that faced the lake ended with another Great Lakes Freighter. This one was permanently docked, and served as a floating museum. January could feel a sea of auras within, warm with life and motion. Farther east along the shore stood the Great Lakes Science Center and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She could never have described either, except that both buildings were modernist masterpieces that defied both gravity and straight lines. Each was filled with an even greater multitude of people than the museum ship.

January hoped that the coming battle would not stray that far. That one would take place seemed inevitable. Even now the container ship Lighthammer had identified was making its way through the breakwater at the mouth of the Cuyahoga River, and beginning its slow turn toward the nearby dock. January could sense it too, a massive rusting hulk of tired and worn out machinery, piloted by an equally worn crew.

Thankfully the docks had been evacuated. That made it easy for January to sense along its length. She felt the dozen members of the Ohio Special Response Team lurking within the nearest warehouse, along with a dozen more heavily armed federal agents. A few squirrels hopped along the outside of the walls, and a possum nestled within a pile of old junk.

She could easily pick out Lighthammer from the mass of troops in the warehouse. Unlike them, his aura was a strong and bright, a halogen spotlight among 40 watt incandescent bulbs. She could sense what she imagined was a mix of nervousness and eager anticipation within him. It was easy to recognize, because she felt the same within herself.

"You take this all very calmly," Baqri noted.

"That is why I mediate, and do Yoga, and exercise my energy," January replied. Part of her was glad that she at least appeared unflappable on the outside. On the inside, she felt that familiar tightness in her chest, and dryness in her mouth that preceded every real fight.

"So does that all that woo-woo mumbo-jumbo really work?" Ortiz murmured. January could sense his excitement as he leaned out into the open to scan the docks below.

"Focusing your will, setting a clear goal, taking responsibility for your emotions, these are all valuable tools to hone yourself into something greater," January said. "But they are only part of the equation. I have spent years exercising, practicing, sweating, and working to come to where I am today. And I am still working and learning. It never stops. It is the same for any professional athlete or concert pianist."

"Yeah, but I could spend years learning to play the violin, and I would still sound like I was torturing a cat." Agent Ortiz murmured.

"Try spending a thousand hours doing something you are naturally inclined toward instead," January countered. "I spent over half my life trying to be a boy, and I failed spectacularly. It was never who or what I was, and never could be. Find your own truth and live it."

January rolled forward, and put her hands down onto the concrete below her. She shifted her weight, and lifted her legs up into the air above her into a handstand. She let her wings spread out to either side, catching the chairs that had suspended her. She pushed each out of the way with her wingtips. She could feel the metal and plastic pieces of furniture just as clearly as if she had touched them with her fingers. That was something her old wings never could have done.

She lifted herself up onto her finger tips. Then she pulled one hand away, until she balanced on just a single finger. From that position she stretched out her legs forward and back, then side to side. Then she changed hands, and did the entire thing all over again.

"Now that is just showboating," Agent Jackson sighed. "You know she's recording you right?"

"I know," January could not restrain a smile. "This is one of my centering skills. It helps me concentrate, by keeping me busy enough that I don't spend my time over-thinking. It helps me to remain silent in the presence of the divine."

"It still sounds like mumbo jumbo to me," Special Agent Ortiz muttered.

January pushed herself up into the air and performed a somersault. She came down on her feet, facing the lake. She opened her eyes for the first time, and saw that Assistant Attorney General Baqri was indeed filming her with her phone.

In that moment she did not look like a prosecutor, or any sort of attorney at all. Instead she just looked like a twenty-something woman with her phone. She was a bundle of radiant energy, so full and alive. January had a nearly overwhelming desire to lean closer and kiss her. But she pushed that down, as she always did when she had those feelings. School had taught her better than to try that sort of thing.

"The ship has docked," Colonel Farmborow's voice crackled over the radio. "We are moving in."

"All clear so far," Ortiz replied.

January could sense the army of law enforcement agents as they rushed from the warehouse to the boarding ramp of the now docked vessel. As before, Lighthammer was easily distinguishable among them, rocketing up into the air above the ship.

"Lighthammer, look east," January said over her own comm. "I sense something near that museum ship."

"Trouble?" came his reply over the radio.

January did not respond. Instead she raced out of the alcove that they stood within, and leaped out into the sky. She dropped her astral senses so that she could better concentrate on her physical actions. Her wings beat down with a great sweep, and sent her higher into the air. She banked sharply to the east, then abruptly nosedived as a rifle barked in the open air. She could hear the whip-crack of the bullet pass by her ear. Then she was faced the museum ship, and poured on the speed.

"Trouble," January reiterated. "I've got Sludge and Obsidian coming across the lot. I don't see Crosshair, but he sees me."

"I've got eyes on him," Lighthammer said, "on top of the rear super structure of that museum freighter.

January silently cursed herself for not sensing them sooner. She must have failed to note the auras of the villains among the throngs of tourists on the boat, or she just wasn't good enough to pick them out from a distance. Either way, she still had a lot of work to do on her astral sensing.

"Ok, just like we planned," Special Agent Ortiz's voice came over the comm. "Ground team continue and secure the ship. Air team, engage the enemy metas."

January poured on the speed, and the distance between her and the charging metas melted away second by second. Lighthammer flashed by her, blasting his signature hard light bolts from his hands. They flashed across the sky and landed home on the museum ship. But if they struck home against the enemy sniper, she could not tell.

January nosed down closer to the ground, and transformed her altitude into even more speed. She aimed for the spot between Sludge and Obsidian, and stretched out her wings to either side, making to clothesline them. Of course she knew the futility of that. So at the last minute she pulled her wings in and hit the ground with a roll. She somersaulted past them, but dropped a present as she went by.

Brilliant lights strobed behind January, bright enough to cause afterimages to bloom behind her tightly shut eyelids. She heard her two opponents shout with anger and dismay, and allowed a faint smile to cross her features. Apparently they had not done their homework on her. Five minutes on MeTube would have brought that one up.

January rolled to a stop, and raised her hands to the firmament. The sky was now packed with dark thunderclouds. January pulled them down, and ripped a stream of lightning forth. It hammered upon the two supervillains, then January herself as she leaped into the conflagration.

She waded into the electrical storm and spun like a ballerina. Her wings snapped out edge on, cutting the air like a blade. One wing sliced neatly through Sludge, bisecting him beneath the shoulders. Another gout of electricity leaped from her wings into the hapless villain, bringing smoke from his goopy body.

Her other wing crashed into Obsidian. But it felt like hitting a brick wall. Her razor-sharp wing edge stopped cold. He actually grinned for a moment. Until the lightning that now wreathed January also exploded into his body. That sent him flying backward through a parked truck.

"Crow, look to the Rock Hall of Fame," Gadget, heretofore silent, finally added his voice to the action. "You've got trouble incoming."

January turned her gaze in that direction. She saw Lighthammer buzzing through the sky around the museum freighter. He had created his small hard light shields on his arms now, and was trading shots with the technomorph sniper. Farther east across a small inlet stood the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. From its roof rose a woman with a pair of wings that were comprised of golden light. She was clad in what looked like some sort of ancient Egyptian armor. A bronze helmet covered her head and most of her face. A breastplate of gold sheathed her chest, with a long tunic of red-brown leather that fell past her waist in a wide skirt. Her waist and neck were likewise girded with a golden belt and scaled gorget. Shining yellow plates girded her shoulders and forearms, and the shins above of her sandaled feet.

She held a bow in her hands, and before January could react, she let fly. An arrow of brilliant yellow light darted forth, sailing right at January. Without thinking, she became water, and flowed out of the way of the shot.

But an instant later it slammed home, burning its way through the cubic boron nitride of her chest plate as if was not even there. Her ribs erupted with pain, and she felt herself fly back across the parking lot from the force of the blow. She skidded across concrete for several feet, until she was able to kick off and come back to her feet in a somersault.

She glanced down, and saw that a neat hole had been burned through both her breastplate and the hagfish fibers underneath. Her skin was a bloody, bruised mess, making it hard for her to tell just how bad the injury was. She was able to stand however, and that meant she could still fight as well.

The arrow that had struck her was gone. It might have been consumed by the energy that it had emitted. Or perhaps it had never existed in the first place, and had simply been a bolt of magical energy that took the form of an arrow?

"Lighthammer, can you help with lady pharaoh?" Gadget said over the comm.

"Hooah!" came the flying vigilante's response. Twin bolts of white light tore across the sky. The new woman in Pharaonic gear lowered her bow, and the weapon vanished. In its place appeared a rectangular shield with a rounded top. It looked for all the world like a door, albeit painted yellow and emblazoned with a winged scarab beetle. She brought this to bear, and Lighthammer's attacks scattered to nothingness upon its surface.

Worse, the other two villains were coming back to their feet. Obsidian was flailing about in the truck he had landed in. It was now a twisted mass of steel and wiring. He looked most displeased as he fought to escape the wreckage. Sludge too, was now stirring. The two piles of goo he had fallen into were now slowly rolling together into a single mass.

"Who the hell is that?" Obsidian stared at the newcomer with as much surprise as January.

"I'm your backup," the lady pharaoh replied from across the inlet. "Your masters thought you incapable of discharging your duties. They were correct."

January tasted blood on her lips. But she did not have time to see if she had suffered a new injury, or if the previous one had been worse than she originally thought. She raised a hand to the sky, and focused on the newcomer. But before she could bring down a bolt of lightning, her new enemy flew across the small harbor and parking lot to stand directly before her.

Up close, January could see that her golden armor was intricately carved with eagles and scarab beetles. Cartouches that she had no hope of making sense of stretched across her belt. A bronze helmet protected her enemy's face, and covered part of her features. All that January could see was olive skin and a strong nose, and thin lips set in a blood-red line.

A bronze sword with a sickle-shaped blade had formed in the lady pharaoh's free hand, opposite her shield. She brought the khopesh down in an overhand sweep, and January pulled one wing up to block, just as she had done against Gola. Bright sparks erupted where the two met. The sickle-sword did not pierce her wings. But the force of the blow pushed January down into a crouch.

Since she was down there anyway, January put her weight on one ankle. She spun her body around that point, and swept out with her other leg. But the lady pharaoh leaped high to escape being toppled from her feet. While she was still in mid jump, January rolled backward and sprang to her own feet.

January pushed back forward, and brought a wing around in a horizontal slash. But the pharaoh blocked with her shield. She replied with her khopesh, and hammered January back. Before January could reply with another wing strike, the new villain punched out with her shield, knocking January off her feet and on to her back.

She brought that sword sweeping down at January in an overhand blow. But this time January was quicker. She kicked out, and forced the lady pharaoh to leap skyward once more to avoid having her shins crushed. With a sweep of her wings, January propelled herself back across the pavement and out of range. She was once again on her feet in an instant. But her opponent darted forward in mid air, and brought that sword around once more. January lifted up one wing to block, and prepared to riposte with the other.

Steel rang on bronze, as a rune-carved Celtic sword thrust itself in the path of the sickle-sword. January found Blood Raven standing between her and the lady pharaoh, Samhain in one hand. Her scarlet hair flowed out behind her head, even though there was no wind. Her eyes burned like fire. She towered there like a goddess, larger than anything else alive in the world.

She pulled her sword up, and swept the newcomer's own blade aside in the process. That left the Egyptian open for just a moment. That was all Blood Raven needed to slam home a massive push kick. The newcomer brought up her shield to block it. But it did not matter. She still went tumbling back a dozen feet.

"Nitokris!" Blood Raven cried. "Such a delight it is to renew our acquaintance."

[Acadian]

’She could sense all of her surroundings through its sometimes kaleidoscopic rush of sensations.’
- - Nice description. And the beginning of a wonderful way to set the scene and quite ‘paint’ a picture of where Stormcrow was and what was going on around her.

’She heard her two opponents shout with anger and dismay, and allowed a faint smile to cross her features.’
- - January of the Faint Smile? Stormcrow makes an impressive and powerful entrance, getting this terrifying fight off to a good start.

Things were beginning to look pretty good until Nitokris made an even more impressive entrance. This fascinating new warrior simply reeks of ancient magicks that appear to outclass what the Stormcrow has been able to master during her short lifespan. Given the totality of what Lighthammer, Stormcrow and the uncaped law enforcers are now up against, things are looking grim.

The final dramatic entrance of this episode was by none other than Blood Raven – and what an entrance it was! I suspect Blood Raven will improve the good guys’ odds notably.

[Renee]

That's pretty neat she can sense all of that as she meditates. Trees, boats, docks, water, people. My mom claims she had some astral projection experiences when she was college-aged. Fortunately for me, this ability seems to have ended when she had children, otherwise I'd have been in a LOT more trouble growing up here and there. Do you know anyone who has abilities like this, Rosa?

Ah, I see. So Lighthammer already knows which ship is carrying the illicit cargo. Wow, she can even see the different people as different luminosities as she searches. Sort of like Detect Life in Skyrim I guess. Red = enemy, blue = friend iirc.

Again with the camera! Even the AG can't help but start playing with a gadget as she's trying to focus. Well, I guess it leads to documentation. For legal purposes, somehow.

January had a nearly overwhelming desire to lean closer and kiss her. But she pushed that down, as she always did when she had those feelings.

Right, that would be bad timing. Maybe after a couple glasses of Chablis after this is all over she can think about trying something like that.

Whoa she sliced into Sludge! But I thought.... okay. I See. That's clever bringing some lightning into that fool. See, he's not impervious.

Cripes, her armor's been wrecked! Argh!

lol... Lady Pharoah seems to think they'll screw this up! I'm picturing her armor as all Egyptian and dynastic-looking! Every enemy in these sort of stories always has such style. She could easily be a villain on the original Batman series along with Riddler and Joker and Penguin.

Wow, Raven does show up, and just in time. Poor Jan is getting her ass kicked in this one, pretty badly. I like how Raven already knows Lady Pharaoh, and even refers to her in a chummy kind of way. "Such a delight..." she says. Phew.