~ If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? ~
The ancient koan rippled across the surface of Zen's mind as she sat next to the massive fusion generator.
While the colossal power plant was normally the calmest place in the Legendary base, today it failed to ease her into the meditative state of serenity she
needed. Even as she pushed against the humming whirl of thoughts in her mind, her ears rang again with the sound of Basinn, placing a bet on Lost Sabre as soon
as her challenge had been accepted. Over a point that wouldn't be proved or disproved regardless of the outcome.
~ It's how we play the game. ~
Still her mind wouldn't leave the thoughts and questions be. Grey eyes opening slowly with a long suffering sigh and rose to her feet.
Talos' lovely coastline would afford her some internal peace as she punched the option in the teleporter bay. A calm but heavy pace brought her past the
hustle and bustle of Wentworth's stopping at the edge of the cliff to look over calm waters. In a patient tone she reminded herself that she had no
authority nor right to judge the core of another, hero or villain.
But Basinn had asked her to step in, the same way a counselor would be asked by a concerned parent.
___________________________
"It looks angry."
Childlike greying blue eyes gazing up from a rough sea to the older man in the white coat that held her tiny hand firmly in his own.
"Only on the surface."
He replied kindly, glancing down at her with a softened smile as a gust of wind played at his hair, causing her own grayish locks to whip into flight across
her face.
"We best get inside before it rains."
Those childish eyes lost themselves to the white caped waves through strands of greying hair. Her little mind was trying to figure out the puzzle in his words
as a light tug at her hand drew her away and back through those blast doors into the dark of the facility.
___________________________
Now, however, the sea stood peacefully. The wind today swept her hair and her memories into flickering life. As his gently corrective reply echoed quietly in
her mind, she considered Lost Sabre.
Perhaps Lost, in time, would find herself chastising a young hero for the same mistake? Perhaps some useful insight penetrated the void of a tumultuous
surface? Perhaps Paragon would continue to hemorrhage funds to repair the devastation?
"Miss?" uttered from nearby with a mild throat clearing "Miss?"
Grey eyes turned from what had been the coastal waters of Talos in daylight, now gilded by sunset, to eye a teenager nearby holding out a small book with a pen
toward her. A mouse of a boy bravely smiling at her with stars in his eyes as he held open a blank part of the book and pen to her.
"You heroes are so awesome for protecting our city!"
Zen calmly offering a heart warming smile that settled in her eyes back at him. Her fingers curling to the pen and book in his hand and with a flourish added
her name to a book graffitied with hundreds of other heroes of this fine city. Handing the book and pen back to the young man her hand gently clasped his
shoulder, to ensure he'd sense true meaning behind her words.
"It doesn't take superpowers to be a hero."
He chuckled lightly back at her as she started to drift past him back to the Green line as he called after her in humor "Yeah, it sure don't hurt
though does it?"
"hurts like hell" she muttered under her breath as her feet hit the sidewalk. Clenching her fists just shy of the point that would release her claws
then straightening them reflexively, she crossed the asphalt and boarded the train.
She stood for the entire ride staring out at the water as the cityscape morphed from Skyway to Brickstown. The steadfast blue glow of the War Wall provided
enough light that she didn't need to look at the line map. As the train slowed for Independence Port, she was already on her way to the door.
Night in Independence port, a long stretch of town with far too few police officers to cover it. She spending her evening there on an unmonitored patrol if
only to clear her mind before dawn bled her golden influence into the cold blue light of the War Walls and moon.
___________________________
A quiet, introspective evening and calm observance of the sunrise, shattered by the sudden ringing of the cell buckled to her hip. Taking a moment to check the
caller ID before tucking the phone under her white tresses.
"Basinns"
The detective's usually careful tone snapped with tension. Zen assumed this was due to the fresh entry in the Arena listings, which was confirmed by his
words.
"I got twenty bucks on her."
Zen slipped a soft smile onto her face with an airy momentary chuckle.
"That all? I got 40 on 'er."
Their relationship was more acquaintance than friends, Basinns wasn't all too sure of what to make of Zen as a whole let alone how to read the subtext of
her words. Basinns knew heroes, hundreds of them would come and go day and night for assignments. The general consensus was that they were quick to anger,
arrogant and self involved. He also knew there were some that weren't and that Zen was one of those few. Rational when angry, humbled and self sacrificing.
His tone shifted, holding a more concerned overtone.
"You planning on throwing it or are you thinking she might actually win?"
Grey eyes seemed to loose their focus as again she looked over the coastline, her tone softening drastically
"I'm no more a hero than you are, Detective."
A long moment of silence before Basinns blurted out in earnest "Good luck, Miss Hart." The disconnect drew a slow, confused blink from her as she
popped her phone closed and slid it back into place on her hip.
"On the surface, it's calm but underneath" a light lean forward as the club card granted her request for transport "there's an
unpredictable tide."
___________________________
The D was quiet this early on a Friday, with only a few patrons and dancers milling about as she slid onto a bar-stool in the upstairs of the club. She slid
into a meditative state, staring into her virgin strawberry daiquiri, as friend and foe alike wandered through this upstairs lounge. Few people disturbed her
as she meditated her way through the day, the bartender silently refilling her when she indicated, used to the strange ways of hero-kind.
"What's a pretty little hero like you doing sitting alone in a place like this?" The smarmy tones shattered her calm and grey eyes shifted to a
random male villain at her side. A raised eyebrow brought a wide grin from the villain, excessively white teeth in his narrow, weasel-like face.
"Minding my own business."
The grin fell off his face and he turned away, muttering "heroes" like it was the darkest of profanity as he wandered off to find easier prey.
Her glass idly spun spun slowly on it's coaster between her thumb and pointer finger until her eyes wandered to the clock behind the bar and she finally
slid off the stool. Tipping the bartender more than he thought she should, she strode to the Arena terminals on the side of the lounge.
___________________________
The D was busier now; Zen let the audible chaos roll over her. The monkeys in their Arena, the dancers and drinkers in theirs and the music over it all.
Eventually, Lost streaked into the lounge, rebounding off the Arena terminals on the far wall to come to a stuttering halt in front of Zen. An internal point
awarded in her favor simply for showing up but mention of that would have to come much later.
"Event up."
Lost all but squealed, and Zen eyed her carefully, like a gambler sizing up a dealer she suspects of stacking the deck. The taller girl bowed, and as the
klaxon sounded, the fight began.
As the light flashed off the edge of Lost's blade, Zen kicked into overdrive, slowing time and pumping adrenaline into her system to allow her to dodge
preternaturally fast. The long green blade flashed light again on it's way down, and even in combat overdrive, Zen was nearly knocked to her knees at the
force and accuracy behind the blow.
Zen managed to maintain her outwardly calm demeanor, but her eyes flamed with shock and fury.
~ She's going to win. ~
Spoke the traitor voice in the back of her head, as she backed onto her heel to avoid the follow-up.
~ Not without a fight, she's not! ~
Was the conscious reply to that internal defeatism, Zen forcing herself to spring forward, back in range of that absurdly heavy-hitting blade. Heartbeats
later, she clicked into the zone. The sweet, singing, flow of adrenaline and will, strike and counter, sustained her through hits that would have floored her
cold earlier.
Time slowed as the fight drug on into what felt like an eternity.
Finally, Lost drew back to deliver another punishing overhand blow. The glare from the overhead lights caught the arc of sweat spattering off her and a tiny
gap left in her guard by her fatigue. Zen shot through the hole, the Headsplitter never landed, Lost instead crumpling to the floor and medported out.
Zen's eyes closed briefly as she took a deep, centering breath before hitting the exit button herself. The last shot had nearly decided the fate of the
battle in Lost's favor. Her breathing evened as her equilibrium steadied, she exited the arena with a click.
Lost stood with a slight furrow at her brow and Zen could nearly hear the demand for a rematch in the adrenaline fueled heaving of her shoulders. Zen
didn't wear the victory in her stance or on her face, instead she stood reserved, with a sensei's placid demeanor. Few words were shared, none of them
involving any truly deep counsel from either party.
Zen offered an oddly reverent nod to Terrence as Lost babbled about needing to improve her stamina. While "whupping more ass for longer" and
"standing up to those sapping Malta deviants with the blue buzzy guns" wasn't precisely what she was hoping to teach. The look Zen gave the
excited youth spoke volumes. This wasn't the end of it nor were her admitted flaws the true heart of the matter though Zen excused herself silently.
She'd walked in to the ring with Lost thinking she'd throw the fight but when that first hit landed with a searing shock she knew she couldn't. Had
she, Lost would have learned a lesson she already knew far too well. Hitting harder than the other guy is not what matters, downing groupings of antagonists
who's salt is worth less than that of a hero that chooses to combat them.
___________________________
Zen's salt, the core of her being was good natured and kind but all she could see in Lost was quick, hard hitting and careless. Careless enough to leave a
civilian they had been sent to protect lost, alone in the dark and fearing for her life. One day Lost would be starring down the likes of Lord Recluse and his
underlings who's salt is of the same heroic caliber. They believe, with their whole selves that they are right and that they will be the victor. Careful
planning and over cautious preparation would be called for.
Only time would tell if Lost would fail or adapt but for now Zen learned all she needed.
Basinns was going to have much more paperwork in his future with Lost's name on it. Civilians would be lost then found again, objectives would be
completed, albeit haphazardly planned and rather impetuous. Lost was every bit a hero if only for not giving up when she was equally matched.
** Special thanks to Wire for playing editor.
*** Edited to fix formatting.
The ancient koan rippled across the surface of Zen's mind as she sat next to the massive fusion generator.
While the colossal power plant was normally the calmest place in the Legendary base, today it failed to ease her into the meditative state of serenity she
needed. Even as she pushed against the humming whirl of thoughts in her mind, her ears rang again with the sound of Basinn, placing a bet on Lost Sabre as soon
as her challenge had been accepted. Over a point that wouldn't be proved or disproved regardless of the outcome.
~ It's how we play the game. ~
Still her mind wouldn't leave the thoughts and questions be. Grey eyes opening slowly with a long suffering sigh and rose to her feet.
Talos' lovely coastline would afford her some internal peace as she punched the option in the teleporter bay. A calm but heavy pace brought her past the
hustle and bustle of Wentworth's stopping at the edge of the cliff to look over calm waters. In a patient tone she reminded herself that she had no
authority nor right to judge the core of another, hero or villain.
But Basinn had asked her to step in, the same way a counselor would be asked by a concerned parent.
___________________________
"It looks angry."
Childlike greying blue eyes gazing up from a rough sea to the older man in the white coat that held her tiny hand firmly in his own.
"Only on the surface."
He replied kindly, glancing down at her with a softened smile as a gust of wind played at his hair, causing her own grayish locks to whip into flight across
her face.
"We best get inside before it rains."
Those childish eyes lost themselves to the white caped waves through strands of greying hair. Her little mind was trying to figure out the puzzle in his words
as a light tug at her hand drew her away and back through those blast doors into the dark of the facility.
___________________________
Now, however, the sea stood peacefully. The wind today swept her hair and her memories into flickering life. As his gently corrective reply echoed quietly in
her mind, she considered Lost Sabre.
Perhaps Lost, in time, would find herself chastising a young hero for the same mistake? Perhaps some useful insight penetrated the void of a tumultuous
surface? Perhaps Paragon would continue to hemorrhage funds to repair the devastation?
"Miss?" uttered from nearby with a mild throat clearing "Miss?"
Grey eyes turned from what had been the coastal waters of Talos in daylight, now gilded by sunset, to eye a teenager nearby holding out a small book with a pen
toward her. A mouse of a boy bravely smiling at her with stars in his eyes as he held open a blank part of the book and pen to her.
"You heroes are so awesome for protecting our city!"
Zen calmly offering a heart warming smile that settled in her eyes back at him. Her fingers curling to the pen and book in his hand and with a flourish added
her name to a book graffitied with hundreds of other heroes of this fine city. Handing the book and pen back to the young man her hand gently clasped his
shoulder, to ensure he'd sense true meaning behind her words.
"It doesn't take superpowers to be a hero."
He chuckled lightly back at her as she started to drift past him back to the Green line as he called after her in humor "Yeah, it sure don't hurt
though does it?"
"hurts like hell" she muttered under her breath as her feet hit the sidewalk. Clenching her fists just shy of the point that would release her claws
then straightening them reflexively, she crossed the asphalt and boarded the train.
She stood for the entire ride staring out at the water as the cityscape morphed from Skyway to Brickstown. The steadfast blue glow of the War Wall provided
enough light that she didn't need to look at the line map. As the train slowed for Independence Port, she was already on her way to the door.
Night in Independence port, a long stretch of town with far too few police officers to cover it. She spending her evening there on an unmonitored patrol if
only to clear her mind before dawn bled her golden influence into the cold blue light of the War Walls and moon.
___________________________
A quiet, introspective evening and calm observance of the sunrise, shattered by the sudden ringing of the cell buckled to her hip. Taking a moment to check the
caller ID before tucking the phone under her white tresses.
"Basinns"
The detective's usually careful tone snapped with tension. Zen assumed this was due to the fresh entry in the Arena listings, which was confirmed by his
words.
"I got twenty bucks on her."
Zen slipped a soft smile onto her face with an airy momentary chuckle.
"That all? I got 40 on 'er."
Their relationship was more acquaintance than friends, Basinns wasn't all too sure of what to make of Zen as a whole let alone how to read the subtext of
her words. Basinns knew heroes, hundreds of them would come and go day and night for assignments. The general consensus was that they were quick to anger,
arrogant and self involved. He also knew there were some that weren't and that Zen was one of those few. Rational when angry, humbled and self sacrificing.
His tone shifted, holding a more concerned overtone.
"You planning on throwing it or are you thinking she might actually win?"
Grey eyes seemed to loose their focus as again she looked over the coastline, her tone softening drastically
"I'm no more a hero than you are, Detective."
A long moment of silence before Basinns blurted out in earnest "Good luck, Miss Hart." The disconnect drew a slow, confused blink from her as she
popped her phone closed and slid it back into place on her hip.
"On the surface, it's calm but underneath" a light lean forward as the club card granted her request for transport "there's an
unpredictable tide."
___________________________
The D was quiet this early on a Friday, with only a few patrons and dancers milling about as she slid onto a bar-stool in the upstairs of the club. She slid
into a meditative state, staring into her virgin strawberry daiquiri, as friend and foe alike wandered through this upstairs lounge. Few people disturbed her
as she meditated her way through the day, the bartender silently refilling her when she indicated, used to the strange ways of hero-kind.
"What's a pretty little hero like you doing sitting alone in a place like this?" The smarmy tones shattered her calm and grey eyes shifted to a
random male villain at her side. A raised eyebrow brought a wide grin from the villain, excessively white teeth in his narrow, weasel-like face.
"Minding my own business."
The grin fell off his face and he turned away, muttering "heroes" like it was the darkest of profanity as he wandered off to find easier prey.
Her glass idly spun spun slowly on it's coaster between her thumb and pointer finger until her eyes wandered to the clock behind the bar and she finally
slid off the stool. Tipping the bartender more than he thought she should, she strode to the Arena terminals on the side of the lounge.
___________________________
The D was busier now; Zen let the audible chaos roll over her. The monkeys in their Arena, the dancers and drinkers in theirs and the music over it all.
Eventually, Lost streaked into the lounge, rebounding off the Arena terminals on the far wall to come to a stuttering halt in front of Zen. An internal point
awarded in her favor simply for showing up but mention of that would have to come much later.
"Event up."
Lost all but squealed, and Zen eyed her carefully, like a gambler sizing up a dealer she suspects of stacking the deck. The taller girl bowed, and as the
klaxon sounded, the fight began.
As the light flashed off the edge of Lost's blade, Zen kicked into overdrive, slowing time and pumping adrenaline into her system to allow her to dodge
preternaturally fast. The long green blade flashed light again on it's way down, and even in combat overdrive, Zen was nearly knocked to her knees at the
force and accuracy behind the blow.
Zen managed to maintain her outwardly calm demeanor, but her eyes flamed with shock and fury.
~ She's going to win. ~
Spoke the traitor voice in the back of her head, as she backed onto her heel to avoid the follow-up.
~ Not without a fight, she's not! ~
Was the conscious reply to that internal defeatism, Zen forcing herself to spring forward, back in range of that absurdly heavy-hitting blade. Heartbeats
later, she clicked into the zone. The sweet, singing, flow of adrenaline and will, strike and counter, sustained her through hits that would have floored her
cold earlier.
Time slowed as the fight drug on into what felt like an eternity.
Finally, Lost drew back to deliver another punishing overhand blow. The glare from the overhead lights caught the arc of sweat spattering off her and a tiny
gap left in her guard by her fatigue. Zen shot through the hole, the Headsplitter never landed, Lost instead crumpling to the floor and medported out.
Zen's eyes closed briefly as she took a deep, centering breath before hitting the exit button herself. The last shot had nearly decided the fate of the
battle in Lost's favor. Her breathing evened as her equilibrium steadied, she exited the arena with a click.
Lost stood with a slight furrow at her brow and Zen could nearly hear the demand for a rematch in the adrenaline fueled heaving of her shoulders. Zen
didn't wear the victory in her stance or on her face, instead she stood reserved, with a sensei's placid demeanor. Few words were shared, none of them
involving any truly deep counsel from either party.
Zen offered an oddly reverent nod to Terrence as Lost babbled about needing to improve her stamina. While "whupping more ass for longer" and
"standing up to those sapping Malta deviants with the blue buzzy guns" wasn't precisely what she was hoping to teach. The look Zen gave the
excited youth spoke volumes. This wasn't the end of it nor were her admitted flaws the true heart of the matter though Zen excused herself silently.
She'd walked in to the ring with Lost thinking she'd throw the fight but when that first hit landed with a searing shock she knew she couldn't. Had
she, Lost would have learned a lesson she already knew far too well. Hitting harder than the other guy is not what matters, downing groupings of antagonists
who's salt is worth less than that of a hero that chooses to combat them.
___________________________
Zen's salt, the core of her being was good natured and kind but all she could see in Lost was quick, hard hitting and careless. Careless enough to leave a
civilian they had been sent to protect lost, alone in the dark and fearing for her life. One day Lost would be starring down the likes of Lord Recluse and his
underlings who's salt is of the same heroic caliber. They believe, with their whole selves that they are right and that they will be the victor. Careful
planning and over cautious preparation would be called for.
Only time would tell if Lost would fail or adapt but for now Zen learned all she needed.
Basinns was going to have much more paperwork in his future with Lost's name on it. Civilians would be lost then found again, objectives would be
completed, albeit haphazardly planned and rather impetuous. Lost was every bit a hero if only for not giving up when she was equally matched.
** Special thanks to Wire for playing editor.
*** Edited to fix formatting.