Application - Doctor Silver
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Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Tue Dec 01, 2009 7:04 pm
By filling in this application you declare your Out Of Character and In Character age is above 18+. Anyone found to be violating this primary rule will be removed from the guild without question. I also accept the Super Group contains themes of an adult nature and will abide by SSC Rulings listed below;
Your Characters Name:
Doctor Silver (Full name Doctor Jonathan Silver)
@SaintAdalberto
Your Characters Gender:
Male
Your Characters Age:
40
Your (As in Player's) Date of Birth:
May 13, 1969 <-Character Player-> May 13, 1975
Your Characters Species:
Altered Human
Your Personal Roleplay Experience:
Since Middle School, in varied and myriad forms
----
Where did you hear about House of Thorns?:
UNTIL Uplink (Internet search)
What appeals to you the most about the Guild?:
Committed roleplay and immersion into a character and environment with attention to realistic relationships and situations.
In what way do you see yourself contribute to the Group?
Dedicated player with a mind towards helping others and creating an enjoyable experience
What's your characters traits; Their flaws, their strengths?
Doctor Silver is a shattered man who has lost his career, his love, and even his humanity. However, he is a man of remarkable ability, and was gifted even before his transformation. Now, he has powers at his fingertips that even he is only beginning to understand. If he can find a place to belong, to be accepted, then there is no telling what he could ultimately become.
What position do you see your Character in the House of Thorns?
Scientific Consultant and unofficial Medical Doctor (license has been revoked.)
----
What times do you play?:
Two hours in the morning and evening, usually from 7:30-9:30 AM Pacific and 8:00-10:00 PM.
What day would be best to play your House of Thorns Character?:
I can be available most days with the exception of Saturdays.
Cake or Pie?:
Pie. Gooey, Sweet, with a flaky shell, a wicked delight most any day or any night.
I have read the common questions section of the forum.
Safe: Attempts should be made to identify and prevent risks to health.
Sane: Activities should be undertaken in a sane and sensible cast of mind.
Consensual: All activities should involve the full consent of all parties involved.
Your Characters Name:
Doctor Silver (Full name Doctor Jonathan Silver)
@SaintAdalberto
Your Characters Gender:
Male
Your Characters Age:
40
Your (As in Player's) Date of Birth:
May 13, 1969 <-Character Player-> May 13, 1975
Your Characters Species:
Altered Human
Your Personal Roleplay Experience:
Since Middle School, in varied and myriad forms
----
Where did you hear about House of Thorns?:
UNTIL Uplink (Internet search)
What appeals to you the most about the Guild?:
Committed roleplay and immersion into a character and environment with attention to realistic relationships and situations.
In what way do you see yourself contribute to the Group?
Dedicated player with a mind towards helping others and creating an enjoyable experience
What's your characters traits; Their flaws, their strengths?
Doctor Silver is a shattered man who has lost his career, his love, and even his humanity. However, he is a man of remarkable ability, and was gifted even before his transformation. Now, he has powers at his fingertips that even he is only beginning to understand. If he can find a place to belong, to be accepted, then there is no telling what he could ultimately become.
What position do you see your Character in the House of Thorns?
Scientific Consultant and unofficial Medical Doctor (license has been revoked.)
----
What times do you play?:
Two hours in the morning and evening, usually from 7:30-9:30 AM Pacific and 8:00-10:00 PM.
What day would be best to play your House of Thorns Character?:
I can be available most days with the exception of Saturdays.
Cake or Pie?:
Pie. Gooey, Sweet, with a flaky shell, a wicked delight most any day or any night.
I have read the common questions section of the forum.
Last edited by Doctor Silver on Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:53 am; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : Title Format Correction and birthdate clarification)
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Lilith Tue Dec 01, 2009 7:51 pm
Hi there, Doctor!
Thanks for dropping in and providing an application.
Some quick clarifications, if you do not mind ...
1. "Doctor Silver is a shattered man who has lost his career, his love, and even his humanity."
So, how does this effect your 'normal' state of mind and behavior?
2. "unofficial Medical Doctor (license has been revoked.)"
A little more background on that, if it is okay?
Thanks for dropping in and providing an application.
Some quick clarifications, if you do not mind ...
1. "Doctor Silver is a shattered man who has lost his career, his love, and even his humanity."
So, how does this effect your 'normal' state of mind and behavior?
2. "unofficial Medical Doctor (license has been revoked.)"
A little more background on that, if it is okay?
Lilith- Matriarch of the House
- Posts : 1995
Join date : 2009-11-06
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Tue Dec 01, 2009 8:41 pm
Hello,
Thank you for your interest. I have found myself a man absent his humanity who still longs for the human connection. Perhaps some background into my past would help you to understand...
I used to work for Millennium University as a medical researcher in the cybernetics technology department. I created some remarkable nanites... that is, microscopic robots, capable of analyzing and replicating the function of any damaged tissue or organ. This would have been quite a boon to the science of medicine... or so I thought. My fiance, Janet Sinclair, a brilliant biochemist, was assisting me on the project.
Unfortunately, I was in a car accident which crushed my spine and paralyzed me below the chest. I pressured Janet to use the experimental nanites to heal my spine and restore me to health. She consented, and the repair was successful. Sadly, the nanites did not stop replicating and replacing tissue after the spine was repaired. They continued to replicate and replace every part of my body. I was left nothing more than the simulacrum of a man. I am, in reality, composed of trillions of nanites working in unison.
For violating the terms of the research and the principles of medicine, Janet and I both lost our jobs and had our medical licenses revoked. She blamed me for pressuring her into violating medical procedure and ruining her career. She left me. Since then, due to my altered appearance and uncertain control of my abilities, it has been difficult finding anyone, even in the superhuman community, who relates to me as a person.
The bright side to this tale has been the abilities I found I could manifest by altering the energy output of the nanites within my body. It was soon obvious that if I was going to help humanity, I would be able to do so not as a doctor, but as a superhuman capable of making gigawatt level energy discharges.
I am looking for a place to be accepted and understood while I continue to refine my abilities, and some friends to help mentor me into the dangerous world of super-crime fighting. This is all quite new to me, and quite outside my realm of experience.
Sincerely,
Doctor Jonathan Silver
Thank you for your interest. I have found myself a man absent his humanity who still longs for the human connection. Perhaps some background into my past would help you to understand...
I used to work for Millennium University as a medical researcher in the cybernetics technology department. I created some remarkable nanites... that is, microscopic robots, capable of analyzing and replicating the function of any damaged tissue or organ. This would have been quite a boon to the science of medicine... or so I thought. My fiance, Janet Sinclair, a brilliant biochemist, was assisting me on the project.
Unfortunately, I was in a car accident which crushed my spine and paralyzed me below the chest. I pressured Janet to use the experimental nanites to heal my spine and restore me to health. She consented, and the repair was successful. Sadly, the nanites did not stop replicating and replacing tissue after the spine was repaired. They continued to replicate and replace every part of my body. I was left nothing more than the simulacrum of a man. I am, in reality, composed of trillions of nanites working in unison.
For violating the terms of the research and the principles of medicine, Janet and I both lost our jobs and had our medical licenses revoked. She blamed me for pressuring her into violating medical procedure and ruining her career. She left me. Since then, due to my altered appearance and uncertain control of my abilities, it has been difficult finding anyone, even in the superhuman community, who relates to me as a person.
The bright side to this tale has been the abilities I found I could manifest by altering the energy output of the nanites within my body. It was soon obvious that if I was going to help humanity, I would be able to do so not as a doctor, but as a superhuman capable of making gigawatt level energy discharges.
I am looking for a place to be accepted and understood while I continue to refine my abilities, and some friends to help mentor me into the dangerous world of super-crime fighting. This is all quite new to me, and quite outside my realm of experience.
Sincerely,
Doctor Jonathan Silver
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Wed Dec 02, 2009 1:40 am
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/01/09
____________________________________________________
Am I still human?
It's a question I've started to ask myself more and more lately. To the casual observer, the answer is simply No. I'm a shiny metal something in the shape of a man. I breathe, but this seems more of a reflex than a necessity. The nanites in my body cling to each other in the shape of organs that no longer have a function. They are a parody of a human, perhaps, but nothing one could confuse with an actual human creature.
But why should that matter? A rose by any other name, right? What makes a person a human isn't the flesh or bones of their body, but the spark of their mind. Whatever I may look like, and whatever I may be made of, I am still me. My soul, if such a thing exists, is still my own. The nanites have faithfully recorded every last thought and memory in my brain. So... Isn't that all it takes to be human? That ineffable sense of self?
I thought so.
And then I killed a man. I was in Canada, fighting a sorcerer, of all things. It wasn't hard to get the assignment. A bit of a lie to the Canadian authorities about my experience and reputation. They are so desperate for assistance that their background check procedures have become a bit lax. Would they have accepted me if they knew I was a disgraced Doctor from Millenium City? It seems doubtful.
In any event, my path took me through a mystical portal opened by a celestial being. I've read about such things in the paper. Seen such things in movies. But I've never experienced them first hand. Magic is anathema to my scientific mind, but I can no longer deny the phenomenon. I passed through a portal and fought a gaggle of strange creatures and zombies. Destroying them did not trouble me. Perhaps it is an unfair bias, but they were not human. Some of them ought not to have even been animate matter. I felt especially good returning the zombies to their eternal rest- whatever that may be.
But the man at the center of it all was indeed just a man. A sorcerer, but human. He was flesh and blood and earthly. He nearly slew me with some kind of mystic energy blades. He was carving me up faster than the nanites could heal me. And then, rather than succumb, I felt myself become angry. Angrier than I have ever been. It was as though all the pain and disappointment of my life came together into one fantastic bolt of energy. His flesh cooked off of his body in a phosphorescent mist, and his charred bones collapsed to the ice and snow.
I killed a man. I knew it might happen someday. What I did not know, what I could not know, and what still horrifies me at this very moment...
I enjoyed it. I enjoyed killing him.
So... Am I still human? Or am I something else? Something cold, something callous, something cruel? I was a doctor once. I worked to save lives. What am I now?
A communication came in today from the House of Thorns, that supergroup I hope to apprentice with. So far, this somewhat reclusive and secretive group of exotic heroes are the only ones to express interest in me or my abilities. However, they have asked a question I don't feel qualified to answer.
They want to know how my life's experiences and hardships have shaped my current mind and personality.
What can I tell them when even I don't know the answer? And if I could explain it to them somehow, would I?
Surely their interest in me would end the moment they realized that I am a man in crisis, unsure of even my very nature.
I'll think of something. Something benign. Something... Human.
End Of Entry.
____________________________________________________
Am I still human?
It's a question I've started to ask myself more and more lately. To the casual observer, the answer is simply No. I'm a shiny metal something in the shape of a man. I breathe, but this seems more of a reflex than a necessity. The nanites in my body cling to each other in the shape of organs that no longer have a function. They are a parody of a human, perhaps, but nothing one could confuse with an actual human creature.
But why should that matter? A rose by any other name, right? What makes a person a human isn't the flesh or bones of their body, but the spark of their mind. Whatever I may look like, and whatever I may be made of, I am still me. My soul, if such a thing exists, is still my own. The nanites have faithfully recorded every last thought and memory in my brain. So... Isn't that all it takes to be human? That ineffable sense of self?
I thought so.
And then I killed a man. I was in Canada, fighting a sorcerer, of all things. It wasn't hard to get the assignment. A bit of a lie to the Canadian authorities about my experience and reputation. They are so desperate for assistance that their background check procedures have become a bit lax. Would they have accepted me if they knew I was a disgraced Doctor from Millenium City? It seems doubtful.
In any event, my path took me through a mystical portal opened by a celestial being. I've read about such things in the paper. Seen such things in movies. But I've never experienced them first hand. Magic is anathema to my scientific mind, but I can no longer deny the phenomenon. I passed through a portal and fought a gaggle of strange creatures and zombies. Destroying them did not trouble me. Perhaps it is an unfair bias, but they were not human. Some of them ought not to have even been animate matter. I felt especially good returning the zombies to their eternal rest- whatever that may be.
But the man at the center of it all was indeed just a man. A sorcerer, but human. He was flesh and blood and earthly. He nearly slew me with some kind of mystic energy blades. He was carving me up faster than the nanites could heal me. And then, rather than succumb, I felt myself become angry. Angrier than I have ever been. It was as though all the pain and disappointment of my life came together into one fantastic bolt of energy. His flesh cooked off of his body in a phosphorescent mist, and his charred bones collapsed to the ice and snow.
I killed a man. I knew it might happen someday. What I did not know, what I could not know, and what still horrifies me at this very moment...
I enjoyed it. I enjoyed killing him.
So... Am I still human? Or am I something else? Something cold, something callous, something cruel? I was a doctor once. I worked to save lives. What am I now?
A communication came in today from the House of Thorns, that supergroup I hope to apprentice with. So far, this somewhat reclusive and secretive group of exotic heroes are the only ones to express interest in me or my abilities. However, they have asked a question I don't feel qualified to answer.
They want to know how my life's experiences and hardships have shaped my current mind and personality.
What can I tell them when even I don't know the answer? And if I could explain it to them somehow, would I?
Surely their interest in me would end the moment they realized that I am a man in crisis, unsure of even my very nature.
I'll think of something. Something benign. Something... Human.
End Of Entry.
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Harbinger Wed Dec 02, 2009 3:51 pm
Doctor Silver wrote: I enjoyed it. I enjoyed killing him.
...
Surely their interest in me would end the moment they realized that I am a man in crisis, unsure of even my very nature.
OOC Response:
Doc, while you've a very interesting application, and clearly a strong writing style I am afraid that this here will pose serious problems for your application. While the group does have people will killing in their past, all are commited to becoming heroes IC and OOC, and all have given OOC assurances that they will only continue to grow towards heroism and not revert into evil. We are not a group of anti-heroes, anti-villians or villains. As such those who enjoy death, torture, and wicked acts for their own purpose will not, sadly, find a home here.
I can, personally, see a lot of potential in a character trying to rediscover his humanity, or in a character looking for a positive way to channel those feelings. The Fetish community has plenty of sadists and the like, however all of them place Safe, Sane and Consentual at the top of the list. A sadist who loses himself in the delievernce of pain will find others stepping into restrain him if he begins to miss that the submissive has had more than she can endure. And in a society such as the House of Thorns, that sadist may find themselves asked to leave until they can show that restraint themselves.
Can you provide some OOC commentary on where you are planning to go, and how we can be assured that we won't have 'guild drama' should Doctor Silver have more than a few reversions into wicked ways and be confronted?
Harbinger- Posts : 477
Join date : 2009-11-06
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Wed Dec 02, 2009 5:17 pm
((OOC))
Hello,
Doctor Silver is not intended to be villainous or an out-of-control personality. His self-relfection is indeed intended to be a positive sign, albeit one he is oblivious to. The character is not meant to bring negative drama anywhere, with the singular 'drama' of his life expressed as a process of self discovery in the presence of others who have already come to terms with their natures and found balance in their lives.
In this particular log entry, the Doctor felt a primal survival instinct and exhilaration at survival for the first time in his life, and is concerned that the emotions indicate that he is inhuman. That he enjoyed overcoming a predator who was about to murder him might be troubling, were it not for the essay of concern following the experience where he reveals, oblivious to himself, that he is quite human after all. A true sociopath or psychopath would, of course, feel no such concerns or a sense of regret over their actions or their emotional thrill at killing (and surviving being killed.)
I understand your concerns, however. I can attest I am not creating a monster, but rather a man blind to himself.
Hello,
Doctor Silver is not intended to be villainous or an out-of-control personality. His self-relfection is indeed intended to be a positive sign, albeit one he is oblivious to. The character is not meant to bring negative drama anywhere, with the singular 'drama' of his life expressed as a process of self discovery in the presence of others who have already come to terms with their natures and found balance in their lives.
In this particular log entry, the Doctor felt a primal survival instinct and exhilaration at survival for the first time in his life, and is concerned that the emotions indicate that he is inhuman. That he enjoyed overcoming a predator who was about to murder him might be troubling, were it not for the essay of concern following the experience where he reveals, oblivious to himself, that he is quite human after all. A true sociopath or psychopath would, of course, feel no such concerns or a sense of regret over their actions or their emotional thrill at killing (and surviving being killed.)
I understand your concerns, however. I can attest I am not creating a monster, but rather a man blind to himself.
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Wed Dec 02, 2009 8:21 pm
Just Ice Bar - Millenium and Main
*********************************************
"You killed a man, and you liked it. Isn't that a song," Summoner asked, a slight smirk visible over the rim of his mug.
Jonathan furrowed his brow. "I don't think so. And if it is, I don't see how that's relevant."
Summoner shrugged, and took another deep drink of his ale. The man was an experienced hero, and a well-known vigilante. While Jonathan couldn't call him a friend, he was one of the only experienced heroes in town who didn't mind talking to an awkward upstart in public.
"Look, I don't know if you read the papers, doc, but villains die. They die every day. I've replaced eyeballs with bullets more times than I can count. That's my catch phrase, by the way. 'Lead poisoning claims another victim.' Catchy, huh? Anyway, my point is when you get in combat, people are gonna die. It's nothing to get worked up about. And if you enjoy it, so much the better. Makes you good at yer job."
Jonathan arched a brow. "I'm not sure I can agree. Any death is a tragedy."
Summoner shook his head. "Oh, boo fucking hoo. I write to Dear Abby about it every day."
Jonathan leaned forward, "Really? Does that help?"
"Jesus doc, you're hopeless, you know that?" He set down his mug, "Look. I've waxed a room full of punks, and never shed a tear. And why would I? But I've never killed one guy I didn't have to. I like my work, but it's only fun when it's warranted. That's the thin line between them and me. Got it?"
"It does seem like a very thin line," Jonathan observed, "and an easy one to cross. Most especially if... you enjoy it."
"Let me see if I can put this in terms you understand, Mr. PHD." Summoner leaned forward, "You like sex, doc?"
"Excuse me," Jonathan glanced around, flustered.
"I said," Summoner raised his voice to a level that would allow the whole bar to hear, "DO YOU LIKE SEX, DOC?"
Several people glanced over, and for once Jonathan was glad he couldn't blush. "I heard you," he said, "I just didn't understand why it was relevant. Yes, I like sex. Or I did. I haven't had any since the change."
Summoner shook his head, "That's a whole 'nother problem for a whole 'nother day. But you do like sex, as far as you know, right?"
"Well, yes. I enjoy it quite a bit," Jonathan confessed it as though confessing a sin to a priest.
"How many people have you raped," Summoner asked.
"Excuse me," Jonathan exclaimed, wide eyed.
"I said," Summoner repeated, raising his voice, "HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU-"
Jonathan cut him off, "None! None! Jesus, man!"
Summoner smirked, and leaned back in his stool. "Same line," he said, "different angle."
Jonathan opened his mouth, then closed it. "That actually makes a little bit of sense," he admitted finally.
"I'll be here all week," Summoner said with a chuckle. "So, what's the name of this supergroup you're apping for?"
"House of Thorns," Jonathan answered, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. He didn't need to drink. Not anymore. But sometimes the act made him feel normal.
"Well fuck me," Summoner said with a grin, "I guess you do like sex after all."
"What does that mean," Jonathan asked.
"If you don't know, Doc," Summoner said with a wry smile, "I ain't gonna tell you."
"Tell me what," Jonathan insisted.
"I hope they accept you," Summoner replied, "you could stand to get out of your shell. Now pardon me, gotta drain the lizard." The vigilante hero got off his bar stool and sauntered off towards the bathroom. Jonathan watched him go.
Was that it, then? Was that the difference between good and evil? Human and inhuman? Right and wrong? A thin line drawn at odd angles?
And what if his pencil slipped?
What would he be, then?
Getting up from his own stool, Jonathan made his way out of the bar. Maybe there was mail for him at home. Maybe they'd said yes.
Maybe.
*******************************************
*********************************************
"You killed a man, and you liked it. Isn't that a song," Summoner asked, a slight smirk visible over the rim of his mug.
Jonathan furrowed his brow. "I don't think so. And if it is, I don't see how that's relevant."
Summoner shrugged, and took another deep drink of his ale. The man was an experienced hero, and a well-known vigilante. While Jonathan couldn't call him a friend, he was one of the only experienced heroes in town who didn't mind talking to an awkward upstart in public.
"Look, I don't know if you read the papers, doc, but villains die. They die every day. I've replaced eyeballs with bullets more times than I can count. That's my catch phrase, by the way. 'Lead poisoning claims another victim.' Catchy, huh? Anyway, my point is when you get in combat, people are gonna die. It's nothing to get worked up about. And if you enjoy it, so much the better. Makes you good at yer job."
Jonathan arched a brow. "I'm not sure I can agree. Any death is a tragedy."
Summoner shook his head. "Oh, boo fucking hoo. I write to Dear Abby about it every day."
Jonathan leaned forward, "Really? Does that help?"
"Jesus doc, you're hopeless, you know that?" He set down his mug, "Look. I've waxed a room full of punks, and never shed a tear. And why would I? But I've never killed one guy I didn't have to. I like my work, but it's only fun when it's warranted. That's the thin line between them and me. Got it?"
"It does seem like a very thin line," Jonathan observed, "and an easy one to cross. Most especially if... you enjoy it."
"Let me see if I can put this in terms you understand, Mr. PHD." Summoner leaned forward, "You like sex, doc?"
"Excuse me," Jonathan glanced around, flustered.
"I said," Summoner raised his voice to a level that would allow the whole bar to hear, "DO YOU LIKE SEX, DOC?"
Several people glanced over, and for once Jonathan was glad he couldn't blush. "I heard you," he said, "I just didn't understand why it was relevant. Yes, I like sex. Or I did. I haven't had any since the change."
Summoner shook his head, "That's a whole 'nother problem for a whole 'nother day. But you do like sex, as far as you know, right?"
"Well, yes. I enjoy it quite a bit," Jonathan confessed it as though confessing a sin to a priest.
"How many people have you raped," Summoner asked.
"Excuse me," Jonathan exclaimed, wide eyed.
"I said," Summoner repeated, raising his voice, "HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU-"
Jonathan cut him off, "None! None! Jesus, man!"
Summoner smirked, and leaned back in his stool. "Same line," he said, "different angle."
Jonathan opened his mouth, then closed it. "That actually makes a little bit of sense," he admitted finally.
"I'll be here all week," Summoner said with a chuckle. "So, what's the name of this supergroup you're apping for?"
"House of Thorns," Jonathan answered, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. He didn't need to drink. Not anymore. But sometimes the act made him feel normal.
"Well fuck me," Summoner said with a grin, "I guess you do like sex after all."
"What does that mean," Jonathan asked.
"If you don't know, Doc," Summoner said with a wry smile, "I ain't gonna tell you."
"Tell me what," Jonathan insisted.
"I hope they accept you," Summoner replied, "you could stand to get out of your shell. Now pardon me, gotta drain the lizard." The vigilante hero got off his bar stool and sauntered off towards the bathroom. Jonathan watched him go.
Was that it, then? Was that the difference between good and evil? Human and inhuman? Right and wrong? A thin line drawn at odd angles?
And what if his pencil slipped?
What would he be, then?
Getting up from his own stool, Jonathan made his way out of the bar. Maybe there was mail for him at home. Maybe they'd said yes.
Maybe.
*******************************************
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Thu Dec 03, 2009 3:11 am
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/02/09
____________________________________________________
No response from my application, yet. Janet used to say that no news was good news. That's true, to an extent. A decline letter is quick and easy. Considering the merits of an applicant is the only thing that takes time. So… I can still hope.
I teleported to Canada again today. I really need to stop doing such long teleports. This time, I ended up in a tree. Not on a tree, as one might hope, but actually in it. It took the nanites in my body an hour to re-constitute me from the wood. From now on, I think I'll use the high-speed scramjet that Steelhead has provided for volunteers. It might not be as quick, but it's most certainly safer.
Once I got there, I was assigned to destroy an undead creature called 'Mister Zombie.' I'm not sure if that was its real name or code name. Combatting this creature was the most bizarre experience of my career so far. It was a hulking monster wearing a tuxedo and top-hat. The creature's appearance was so comical that I underestimated it. I found myself pummeled six feet into the snow before I knew what was happening. Only a quick teleport- this time NOT into a tree, managed to save me from possible destruction.
When I returned to the location of 'Mr. Zombie,' I found another hero fighting the creature, and not having any more success than myself. Mr. Zombie threw the hero into a boulder, and I was forced to intervene. Using a wide spectrum electrical discharge, I was able to hurl Mr. Zombie away long enough to escape with the wounded hero. His name was Carl the Cannon, and he was bleeding from a dozen wounds. An idea struck me, and I forced several of the nanites within my body to detach and begin repairing his damaged cells. This was dangerous and potentially irresponsible of me, because it was possible that they might go on a wild replication spree again. However, my concerns about that proved to be unfounded, as I was able to retain full control of the nanites. His injuries were healed, and the crisis was averted.
That was when I experienced a sensation that gave me no small relief: The exhilarating joy of helping someone. Saving a life.
This alleviated some of my angst over killing and finding pleasure in it. Whatever that says about me, surely this says something too- I can still be a healer. I can still enjoy the miracle of medicine, of helping others. I can't practice officially, of course, but it seems doubtful that Carl the Cannon will file charges or a lawsuit. Perhaps other heroes would be willing to let an uncertified doctor tend to their injuries? More hope.
Eventually, with the aid of a very strange little girl (who wielded magical powers beyond my ken) I was able to defeat Mr. Zombie and put the Ice Zombies of Canada to rest… at least for a time. This also gave me a great deal of gratification. Is it survival and success that thrills me, and not some darker urge? I hope so.
There I go, hoping again.
I wonder what Summoner would say. Something involving an expletive, most likely.
End of Entry
____________________________________________________
No response from my application, yet. Janet used to say that no news was good news. That's true, to an extent. A decline letter is quick and easy. Considering the merits of an applicant is the only thing that takes time. So… I can still hope.
I teleported to Canada again today. I really need to stop doing such long teleports. This time, I ended up in a tree. Not on a tree, as one might hope, but actually in it. It took the nanites in my body an hour to re-constitute me from the wood. From now on, I think I'll use the high-speed scramjet that Steelhead has provided for volunteers. It might not be as quick, but it's most certainly safer.
Once I got there, I was assigned to destroy an undead creature called 'Mister Zombie.' I'm not sure if that was its real name or code name. Combatting this creature was the most bizarre experience of my career so far. It was a hulking monster wearing a tuxedo and top-hat. The creature's appearance was so comical that I underestimated it. I found myself pummeled six feet into the snow before I knew what was happening. Only a quick teleport- this time NOT into a tree, managed to save me from possible destruction.
When I returned to the location of 'Mr. Zombie,' I found another hero fighting the creature, and not having any more success than myself. Mr. Zombie threw the hero into a boulder, and I was forced to intervene. Using a wide spectrum electrical discharge, I was able to hurl Mr. Zombie away long enough to escape with the wounded hero. His name was Carl the Cannon, and he was bleeding from a dozen wounds. An idea struck me, and I forced several of the nanites within my body to detach and begin repairing his damaged cells. This was dangerous and potentially irresponsible of me, because it was possible that they might go on a wild replication spree again. However, my concerns about that proved to be unfounded, as I was able to retain full control of the nanites. His injuries were healed, and the crisis was averted.
That was when I experienced a sensation that gave me no small relief: The exhilarating joy of helping someone. Saving a life.
This alleviated some of my angst over killing and finding pleasure in it. Whatever that says about me, surely this says something too- I can still be a healer. I can still enjoy the miracle of medicine, of helping others. I can't practice officially, of course, but it seems doubtful that Carl the Cannon will file charges or a lawsuit. Perhaps other heroes would be willing to let an uncertified doctor tend to their injuries? More hope.
Eventually, with the aid of a very strange little girl (who wielded magical powers beyond my ken) I was able to defeat Mr. Zombie and put the Ice Zombies of Canada to rest… at least for a time. This also gave me a great deal of gratification. Is it survival and success that thrills me, and not some darker urge? I hope so.
There I go, hoping again.
I wonder what Summoner would say. Something involving an expletive, most likely.
End of Entry
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Fri Dec 04, 2009 11:17 am
Just Ice Bar - Millenium and Main
***********************************
"And then she told me that imagining sex with a metallic penis was disgusting," Jonathan confessed.
"Fuck her," Summoner said with a dismissive wave.
"That seems unlikely," Jonathan answered. "But in truth, that was not the most embarrassing or disheartening moment of the evening."
Summoner shook his head, picking up his mug of ale, "Man, if it got worse than that, you might want to keep it on the down-low."
Jonathan took this to mean that his 'friend' had heard enough, but he needed to unburden himself to someone. At the moment, this bloodthirsty vigilante was the only person who would even pretend to listen without being paid. "Later in the evening," he went on, "I met a girl named Macy. She turned out to be an android in disguise."
Summoner took a swallow and shrugged, "Seems right up your alley, Doc."
"I thought so," Jonathan admitted, "but it turned out that she has an advanced AI, capable of expressing shyness. Extreme shyness, actually. She paused during our conversation and was silent for so long that I thought I'd thrown her social interaction subroutines off the proverbial rails. I was inspecting her with a mind to make repairs when her friends came upon us and explained to me how incredibly rude I was."
Summoner shrugged again, "Fuck 'em."
Jonathan sighed. "They were right. I was treating her like a broken machine, and not like a person. I did to her what others do to me. I made her feel subhuman."
Summoner paused, studied his drinking partner for a moment, and shrugged a third time. "Well, then Fuck you, I guess."
Picking up his glass of water, Jonathan took a sip. The water entered his body and the nanites within him began to work at it as though they were real human digestive organs. It was all a pantomime. He did not get the distantly remembered sensation of being 'quenched.' "That seems to be the theme, lately," he admitted.
"Welcome to the world of the fucking rest of us," Summoner said. "You spend a lot of time here whining, Doc, but not a lot of time out there living. You know what you oughta do when you fall off a horse and nearly break your neck?"
Jonathan frowned, "Get back on again, I suppose."
"That would be crazy," Summoner said, "getting back on a horse after you almost died. What's wrong with you, Doc? No... you find another way to get around. Buy a car. Or a bike. Get on a bus. But you don't just lay there crying about it."
Jonathan set down his glass, watching the condensation beading on its surface for a moment. "Quite right," he said at last. He looked at the vigilante, a violent man clad in leather, kevlar, and bandoliers. "I appreciate the time you took to talk to me. The time you always take to talk with me."
Summoner finished his mug and slid it forward towards the barkeep. "Don't know why. All I ever do is tell you how full of shit you are."
Jonathan nodded, "Sometimes that's what a man needs to hear."
The bartender refilled the mug, and Summoner pulled it back towards himself. "Well, if being told to go fuck yourself is public service, consider me a Samaritan."
Jonathan laughed, and there was genuine mirth in it. Only later did he realize it was the first real laugh he'd had in months. Despite everything else, that fact made the day a good one.
**************************
***********************************
"And then she told me that imagining sex with a metallic penis was disgusting," Jonathan confessed.
"Fuck her," Summoner said with a dismissive wave.
"That seems unlikely," Jonathan answered. "But in truth, that was not the most embarrassing or disheartening moment of the evening."
Summoner shook his head, picking up his mug of ale, "Man, if it got worse than that, you might want to keep it on the down-low."
Jonathan took this to mean that his 'friend' had heard enough, but he needed to unburden himself to someone. At the moment, this bloodthirsty vigilante was the only person who would even pretend to listen without being paid. "Later in the evening," he went on, "I met a girl named Macy. She turned out to be an android in disguise."
Summoner took a swallow and shrugged, "Seems right up your alley, Doc."
"I thought so," Jonathan admitted, "but it turned out that she has an advanced AI, capable of expressing shyness. Extreme shyness, actually. She paused during our conversation and was silent for so long that I thought I'd thrown her social interaction subroutines off the proverbial rails. I was inspecting her with a mind to make repairs when her friends came upon us and explained to me how incredibly rude I was."
Summoner shrugged again, "Fuck 'em."
Jonathan sighed. "They were right. I was treating her like a broken machine, and not like a person. I did to her what others do to me. I made her feel subhuman."
Summoner paused, studied his drinking partner for a moment, and shrugged a third time. "Well, then Fuck you, I guess."
Picking up his glass of water, Jonathan took a sip. The water entered his body and the nanites within him began to work at it as though they were real human digestive organs. It was all a pantomime. He did not get the distantly remembered sensation of being 'quenched.' "That seems to be the theme, lately," he admitted.
"Welcome to the world of the fucking rest of us," Summoner said. "You spend a lot of time here whining, Doc, but not a lot of time out there living. You know what you oughta do when you fall off a horse and nearly break your neck?"
Jonathan frowned, "Get back on again, I suppose."
"That would be crazy," Summoner said, "getting back on a horse after you almost died. What's wrong with you, Doc? No... you find another way to get around. Buy a car. Or a bike. Get on a bus. But you don't just lay there crying about it."
Jonathan set down his glass, watching the condensation beading on its surface for a moment. "Quite right," he said at last. He looked at the vigilante, a violent man clad in leather, kevlar, and bandoliers. "I appreciate the time you took to talk to me. The time you always take to talk with me."
Summoner finished his mug and slid it forward towards the barkeep. "Don't know why. All I ever do is tell you how full of shit you are."
Jonathan nodded, "Sometimes that's what a man needs to hear."
The bartender refilled the mug, and Summoner pulled it back towards himself. "Well, if being told to go fuck yourself is public service, consider me a Samaritan."
Jonathan laughed, and there was genuine mirth in it. Only later did he realize it was the first real laugh he'd had in months. Despite everything else, that fact made the day a good one.
**************************
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Fri Dec 04, 2009 8:49 pm
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/04/09
_____________________________________________________
"In nothing do men more nearly approach the gods than in giving health to men." ~Cicero
Is that power?
This is something I have found myself wondering. It started when another crimefighter, Bubba the Blade, remarked that Supers, Firefighters, Police Officers, and Doctors are all heroes of different sorts, and they all must be crazy. He said, "No matter how much you earn, it's never about the money. Have you seen the divorce rate in these jobs? The broken homes, messed up kids, depression, alcoholism, suicide? They could give you a million a day, and it wouldn't be worth it. Heroes are crazy. Every last one of them."
While I don't think his description applies to practicioners in small communities, it's almost certainly true in most of the larger cities. These sorts of jobs steal lives and corrupt peace of mind. They distance you from people while placing you alternatively above or below them. So... Why do people do these jobs?
Certainly, many get into it with the altruistic ideal of helping others. But not all of them. I've known many Doctors, for instance, who couldn't care less about their patients. For them, the challenge of medicine is a motivator. And possibly... The perceived power over life and death. Are the best doctors motivated my the exhilaration of that power? Was I one of these Doctors? Am I one now?
And if so, is my choice of a crimefighting career merely a new way to express my power? To be judge, jury, and at times... Executioner? To command life and death? I always thought of myself as a good doctor, one who really cared about my patients. But could I be deceiving myself? Is my choice of career the only real difference between myself and a criminal?
If Summoner is right, then all that matters is where you draw the line. But then, I often think he is a borderline psychotic who uses crimefighting as a means to express his rage without going to jail for it. I have lately been seeing him as a friend... though shouldn't that disturb me? Is this the sort of man I should be getting advice from? Is it a comment on my own mental health that such a violent soul gives me advice that sets me at ease and points me in new directions?
But of course, there is a flip side to all of these concerns. It seems that if one is in the business of fighting crime, one should regularly ask themselves these questions. Summoner would almost certainly chastise me for having self-doubt. Yet it seems to me that such doubt must be the self-imposed check and balance of any sane soul. If I continue to study myself and my development, doesn't that put me in the best position to catch myself before I fall?
Or is it just another trap? Will I, feeling secure in my responsible self-analysis, proceed unwittingly down the path to darkness?
I looked up Insanity today in the medical dictionary. Although I was once a medical Doctor, I was not a psychologist. It surprised me to learn that Insanity is not a medical term, but rather a legal one. Legally, I do not think I qualify as insane. But what about the critical tangibles? Am I a danger to myself or others? What does that mean, exactly?
I frequently suffer from my own social ignorance and insecurities. I don't think that constitutes an actual 'danger' to myself. But what about others? I have killed. I have relished in surviving a brutal brawl while destroying my opponent. The Canadian authorities have assured me it was a case of 'justifiable homicide,' but that is also a legal term- not a medical one.
The Oath of Maimonides might be a better judge for me, even if I am no longer practicing medicine. Millenium University used this Oath in lieu of the Hippocratic Oath, considering it to be more appropriate. As I pause to re-read it now, it occurs to me that any 'Hero' might benefit from taking this Oath, no matter their specific profession.
"The eternal providence has appointed me to watch over the life and death of Thy creatures. May the love for my art actuate me at all times. May neither Avarice nor Miserliness, nor thirst for Glory or for a great Reputation engage my mind; May I always remember that the enemies of Truth and Philanthropy could easily deceive me and make me forgetful of my lofty aim: to do Good to Thy children."
There is more to the Oath, but that is the heart and soul of it. I still believe in it. I still believe that I can follow it.
As long as I believe that, then I will consider myself a man. Flawed, certainly, but not evil. The rest of life seems to be learning and growth, and Maimonides had some advice about that, too:
"Today, you can discover your errors of Yesterday. Tomorrow, you can shed new light on what you were sure of Today."
Living is Learning. If I was sure that God existed, I would add an Amen. Until then, I will let Maimonides believe for the both of us, and I will simply follow his good and wise advice.
End of File
_____________________________________________________
"In nothing do men more nearly approach the gods than in giving health to men." ~Cicero
Is that power?
This is something I have found myself wondering. It started when another crimefighter, Bubba the Blade, remarked that Supers, Firefighters, Police Officers, and Doctors are all heroes of different sorts, and they all must be crazy. He said, "No matter how much you earn, it's never about the money. Have you seen the divorce rate in these jobs? The broken homes, messed up kids, depression, alcoholism, suicide? They could give you a million a day, and it wouldn't be worth it. Heroes are crazy. Every last one of them."
While I don't think his description applies to practicioners in small communities, it's almost certainly true in most of the larger cities. These sorts of jobs steal lives and corrupt peace of mind. They distance you from people while placing you alternatively above or below them. So... Why do people do these jobs?
Certainly, many get into it with the altruistic ideal of helping others. But not all of them. I've known many Doctors, for instance, who couldn't care less about their patients. For them, the challenge of medicine is a motivator. And possibly... The perceived power over life and death. Are the best doctors motivated my the exhilaration of that power? Was I one of these Doctors? Am I one now?
And if so, is my choice of a crimefighting career merely a new way to express my power? To be judge, jury, and at times... Executioner? To command life and death? I always thought of myself as a good doctor, one who really cared about my patients. But could I be deceiving myself? Is my choice of career the only real difference between myself and a criminal?
If Summoner is right, then all that matters is where you draw the line. But then, I often think he is a borderline psychotic who uses crimefighting as a means to express his rage without going to jail for it. I have lately been seeing him as a friend... though shouldn't that disturb me? Is this the sort of man I should be getting advice from? Is it a comment on my own mental health that such a violent soul gives me advice that sets me at ease and points me in new directions?
But of course, there is a flip side to all of these concerns. It seems that if one is in the business of fighting crime, one should regularly ask themselves these questions. Summoner would almost certainly chastise me for having self-doubt. Yet it seems to me that such doubt must be the self-imposed check and balance of any sane soul. If I continue to study myself and my development, doesn't that put me in the best position to catch myself before I fall?
Or is it just another trap? Will I, feeling secure in my responsible self-analysis, proceed unwittingly down the path to darkness?
I looked up Insanity today in the medical dictionary. Although I was once a medical Doctor, I was not a psychologist. It surprised me to learn that Insanity is not a medical term, but rather a legal one. Legally, I do not think I qualify as insane. But what about the critical tangibles? Am I a danger to myself or others? What does that mean, exactly?
I frequently suffer from my own social ignorance and insecurities. I don't think that constitutes an actual 'danger' to myself. But what about others? I have killed. I have relished in surviving a brutal brawl while destroying my opponent. The Canadian authorities have assured me it was a case of 'justifiable homicide,' but that is also a legal term- not a medical one.
The Oath of Maimonides might be a better judge for me, even if I am no longer practicing medicine. Millenium University used this Oath in lieu of the Hippocratic Oath, considering it to be more appropriate. As I pause to re-read it now, it occurs to me that any 'Hero' might benefit from taking this Oath, no matter their specific profession.
"The eternal providence has appointed me to watch over the life and death of Thy creatures. May the love for my art actuate me at all times. May neither Avarice nor Miserliness, nor thirst for Glory or for a great Reputation engage my mind; May I always remember that the enemies of Truth and Philanthropy could easily deceive me and make me forgetful of my lofty aim: to do Good to Thy children."
There is more to the Oath, but that is the heart and soul of it. I still believe in it. I still believe that I can follow it.
As long as I believe that, then I will consider myself a man. Flawed, certainly, but not evil. The rest of life seems to be learning and growth, and Maimonides had some advice about that, too:
"Today, you can discover your errors of Yesterday. Tomorrow, you can shed new light on what you were sure of Today."
Living is Learning. If I was sure that God existed, I would add an Amen. Until then, I will let Maimonides believe for the both of us, and I will simply follow his good and wise advice.
End of File
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Sat Dec 05, 2009 2:34 am
Canada - North of Steelhead Episode 1: 'The Dimensional Shuffle.'
*******************************************************************
Ten octillian atoms were bathed in two gigawatts of electricity. The patterns of the current swirled and rotated, moving at just about half the speed of light. The exact nature of the electromagnetic field created by this process would require a specialized university degree and a long attention span to understand. Suffice to say that it was a miracle of modern science, brought about by one of those reclusive intellects who tend to clutter up the science labs at prestigious Universities. The atoms found themselves transformed briefly into the particles and waves that scientists sometimes called tachyons. Little is known about tachyons with certainty, and even the formidable mind that divised this process only learned to command them by trial and error.
The tachyons travelled an infinite distance, or possibly a short span of miles. They arrived after an eternity, or in only an instant. Their very nature precluded a firm reckoning. Upon arriving at their destination, they flashed brilliantly back into their former states. This was teleportation. While not as rare nowadays as it once was, it remains an inexact science. Jonathan materialized ten feet off of the ground, and fell gently down to crunch into the soft snow of a hillside.
"Better than landing in a tree," he mused aloud. It took him a moment to re-acquire his situational awareness. By the time he did, a man was pointing two wicked-looking pistols at him.
Summoner smiled. "Hey Doc, come to join the party?" He made a motion as if to holster the weapons, but Jonathan had long ago observed that the Summoner carried no holsters. Nor did he carry weapons, for that matter. The guns simply stopped existing. There was no flash or pop, and the lack of expected theatrics almost made the act more unsettling. They were here, and then they were gone, and no one could ever prove that they had ever existed.
"I did not realize you were working in Canada," Jonathan said as he brushed snow off of his coat. At the start of his crimefighting career, he had worn a full suit of clothes. Unfortunately, his high-level energy discharges tended to burn his shirts. After a while, he'd made the decision to sacrifice modesty in exchange for practicality. Shirtless, dressed in an open trenchcoat, he could project bolts of lightning from his chest without worrying about his Haynes. The coat seldom suffered the same kind of damage, being pierced in strategic places by black iron studs. They were outlets for his energy, and sometimes he thought of them as the true 'windows of the soul.' That is, if a soul could be measured by an electrical meter.
Summoner appraised him briefly as a rat might size up its next meal. It was unsettling how he could do that. He made no threatening expression. He was not an ugly man. Yet somehow he could exude a feral aura that made you feel that you were in the presence of a crafty predator. Then it was gone, and he was just a man again. Like the guns, no one could ever prove that anything had ever happened. "Ape Plus is back," the Summoner said as he nodded over the hill's crest, "with the Overbrain."
"Yes," Jonathan said as he approached the hilltop to peer over into the valley, "that's why I'm here. But what do you mean he's back? Had he gone somewhe-"
He didn't get to finish his statement before Summoner tripped him and hurled him to the snow with surprising strength. Or perhaps it was superior mechanical leverage, as one finds in Ju-jitsu? Jonathan hadn't trained enough in the martial arts to know. Whatever the exact nature of the act, it was unsettling to find his face suddenly in the snow.
"Stay down," Summoner whispered, "they'll see you." The vigilante crawled to the edge of the hilltop, and produced a pair of binoculars from nowhere. "I killed him just last week," he said, "But I heard this one is worse."
"What do you mean, you killed him," Jonathan said once he'd spit the snow from his metallic mouth. He crawled beside his only friend and peered down into the valley. The hulking frame of Ape Plus stalked back and forth below, protecting the odd crystal-encased cerebellum known as the Overbrain. "Did they clone him," he asked.
"You could say that, sort of," Summoner said. The binoculars were gone now. "It's complicated, Doc, and the authorities don't really want it widely known. You sure you're up for the truth?"
"Truth is what the life of a scientist is all about," Jonathan declared.
"Right," Summoner said, "don't say I didn't warn you." A spotting scope was resting on a small tripod now. The snow made a slight sound as its weight pressed into it. Summoner peered into the scope. "You know that guy you killed, the one you're always sobbing about?"
Jonathan frowned a bit. "I don't think sobbing is quite the right term," he objected quietly.
"Whatever. Anyhow, I killed him too. Half the supers in the world have killed or captured him at one time or another. Most people think there's just a vast army of powerful sorcerers out there. And, well, maybe there are. But I did some digging. It's the same guy every time. Oh, maybe he's got a hawaiian shirt tonight and a green shirt tomorrow, and maybe he's wearing a suit on Tuesdays. Little things change. Sometimes he's smarter, sometimes he's more powerful. But it's the same damn guy summoning the same damn demon. Over and over and over."
"That doesn't make any sense," Jonathan said with a shake of his head.
"It didn't to me either, at first. But haven't you noticed the news? The conversations with other heroes? Everyone fights the same fights as everyone else. The same criminals rob the same banks. They get put down or put in jail, and there they are again the very next day. Haven't you wondered how superheroic crime and crimefighting could have grown so much in the past few years? There used to be one or two big superteams. Now there's hundreds. A full ten-percent of the population has turned either hero or crook."
"I assumed that law enforcement has simply been overwhelmed by the influx of supernatural entities," Jonathan said uncertainly.
"Yeah," Summoner said, "and how about that influx? One out of every ten people I meet at the clubs got sucked here from another dimension."
Jonathan nodded slowly, "I have noticed a lot of extra-dimensional beings lately."
"It's not a coincidence," Summoner said, "and its not a simple escalation. Something is wrong, and the eggheads in the government don't know how to fix it." The spotting scope was gone, now. A sniper rifle replaced it on the snow.
"So what's wrong," Jonathan asked. Summoner didn't exactly seem like an intellectual, and so the Doctor was naturally skeptical of the man's claims.
"Wipe that fucking look off your face," Summoner said in a voice that was part bark, part whisper. "You don't need to be an architect to know how to hammer a nail, Doc. I'm a Summoner. A Dimensional Mechanic. The greasemonkey of the multiverse. I can't always tell you how it works, but I can damn well tell what's going on."
"All right," Jonathan said slowly, "I'm sorry. What exactly is going on?"
"Amateur hour," Summoner said, "that's what."
Jonathan sighed, "Care to elucidate?"
"The bad guys don't know what they're doing," he said as he checked the rifle and ensured the magazine was loaded. "They summoned a big demon, but they did it wrong. Weakened the barriers between dimensions. Everything is being sucked into this one. It's a fucking dimensional shuffle, and that's a dance that goes on forever if someone doesn't figure out how to stop it."
Jonathan considered what his friend was saying. "You mean that alternate versions of these villains are materializing in this realm?"
"Yup," Summoner replied, taking aim through his rifle, "I kill Ape Plus today, and maybe another one shows up tomorrow. Or next week. Or in an hour. I figure the only reason we're not all dead right now is because all these alternate bad guys are gunning for each other just as often as they're gunning for us. So we've got our collective thumbs in the dam. But that won't keep the flood out forever."
"What can we do about it," Jonathan spoke with growing alarm.
"Hope the eggheads figure it out before we run out of thumbs," Summoner said, "You might want to go now, Doc."
"Go? I just got here," Jonathan protested, "I'll help you take down these villains."
"Not this time," Summoner replied in a grave voice, "this one's bad. I can tell. It's going to get ugly, and you might not walk away. Save your thumb for the next crack."
"If this is so bad," Jonathan reasoned, "shouldn't we work together?"
Summoner glanced up at what had become his regular drinking partner. "Fuck off, Doc. I'll see you back at the bar."
"I'd rather not leave you to handle this al-"
"Fuck off, Doc," Summoner spat. "I mean it. I work alone."
Jonathan frowned, "I consider you a friend."
"Oh Jesus," Summoner snapped, "go take your gay somewhere else."
Jonathan's frown deepened, and he shook his head. "Good luck," he said softly, and a moment later he was gone in a flash of visible light and invisible tachyons.
"You too, Doc," Summoner whispered, and returned his attention to the sights of his rifle. His hands trembled a little. He swallowed hard and tried to steady himself. This Ape Plus would be much worse than the others. This one had two heads hanging from his belt. One was the head of a handsome young dimensional mechanic. The other glinted silver in the midday sun. In some other universe, in some other time, this battle had already been fought... And lost.
Perspiration beaded and froze on Summoner's face as he prayed to God for a miracle and squeezed the trigger of his rifle.
Hypocrisy was something he could live with... If he lived.
****************************************
*******************************************************************
Ten octillian atoms were bathed in two gigawatts of electricity. The patterns of the current swirled and rotated, moving at just about half the speed of light. The exact nature of the electromagnetic field created by this process would require a specialized university degree and a long attention span to understand. Suffice to say that it was a miracle of modern science, brought about by one of those reclusive intellects who tend to clutter up the science labs at prestigious Universities. The atoms found themselves transformed briefly into the particles and waves that scientists sometimes called tachyons. Little is known about tachyons with certainty, and even the formidable mind that divised this process only learned to command them by trial and error.
The tachyons travelled an infinite distance, or possibly a short span of miles. They arrived after an eternity, or in only an instant. Their very nature precluded a firm reckoning. Upon arriving at their destination, they flashed brilliantly back into their former states. This was teleportation. While not as rare nowadays as it once was, it remains an inexact science. Jonathan materialized ten feet off of the ground, and fell gently down to crunch into the soft snow of a hillside.
"Better than landing in a tree," he mused aloud. It took him a moment to re-acquire his situational awareness. By the time he did, a man was pointing two wicked-looking pistols at him.
Summoner smiled. "Hey Doc, come to join the party?" He made a motion as if to holster the weapons, but Jonathan had long ago observed that the Summoner carried no holsters. Nor did he carry weapons, for that matter. The guns simply stopped existing. There was no flash or pop, and the lack of expected theatrics almost made the act more unsettling. They were here, and then they were gone, and no one could ever prove that they had ever existed.
"I did not realize you were working in Canada," Jonathan said as he brushed snow off of his coat. At the start of his crimefighting career, he had worn a full suit of clothes. Unfortunately, his high-level energy discharges tended to burn his shirts. After a while, he'd made the decision to sacrifice modesty in exchange for practicality. Shirtless, dressed in an open trenchcoat, he could project bolts of lightning from his chest without worrying about his Haynes. The coat seldom suffered the same kind of damage, being pierced in strategic places by black iron studs. They were outlets for his energy, and sometimes he thought of them as the true 'windows of the soul.' That is, if a soul could be measured by an electrical meter.
Summoner appraised him briefly as a rat might size up its next meal. It was unsettling how he could do that. He made no threatening expression. He was not an ugly man. Yet somehow he could exude a feral aura that made you feel that you were in the presence of a crafty predator. Then it was gone, and he was just a man again. Like the guns, no one could ever prove that anything had ever happened. "Ape Plus is back," the Summoner said as he nodded over the hill's crest, "with the Overbrain."
"Yes," Jonathan said as he approached the hilltop to peer over into the valley, "that's why I'm here. But what do you mean he's back? Had he gone somewhe-"
He didn't get to finish his statement before Summoner tripped him and hurled him to the snow with surprising strength. Or perhaps it was superior mechanical leverage, as one finds in Ju-jitsu? Jonathan hadn't trained enough in the martial arts to know. Whatever the exact nature of the act, it was unsettling to find his face suddenly in the snow.
"Stay down," Summoner whispered, "they'll see you." The vigilante crawled to the edge of the hilltop, and produced a pair of binoculars from nowhere. "I killed him just last week," he said, "But I heard this one is worse."
"What do you mean, you killed him," Jonathan said once he'd spit the snow from his metallic mouth. He crawled beside his only friend and peered down into the valley. The hulking frame of Ape Plus stalked back and forth below, protecting the odd crystal-encased cerebellum known as the Overbrain. "Did they clone him," he asked.
"You could say that, sort of," Summoner said. The binoculars were gone now. "It's complicated, Doc, and the authorities don't really want it widely known. You sure you're up for the truth?"
"Truth is what the life of a scientist is all about," Jonathan declared.
"Right," Summoner said, "don't say I didn't warn you." A spotting scope was resting on a small tripod now. The snow made a slight sound as its weight pressed into it. Summoner peered into the scope. "You know that guy you killed, the one you're always sobbing about?"
Jonathan frowned a bit. "I don't think sobbing is quite the right term," he objected quietly.
"Whatever. Anyhow, I killed him too. Half the supers in the world have killed or captured him at one time or another. Most people think there's just a vast army of powerful sorcerers out there. And, well, maybe there are. But I did some digging. It's the same guy every time. Oh, maybe he's got a hawaiian shirt tonight and a green shirt tomorrow, and maybe he's wearing a suit on Tuesdays. Little things change. Sometimes he's smarter, sometimes he's more powerful. But it's the same damn guy summoning the same damn demon. Over and over and over."
"That doesn't make any sense," Jonathan said with a shake of his head.
"It didn't to me either, at first. But haven't you noticed the news? The conversations with other heroes? Everyone fights the same fights as everyone else. The same criminals rob the same banks. They get put down or put in jail, and there they are again the very next day. Haven't you wondered how superheroic crime and crimefighting could have grown so much in the past few years? There used to be one or two big superteams. Now there's hundreds. A full ten-percent of the population has turned either hero or crook."
"I assumed that law enforcement has simply been overwhelmed by the influx of supernatural entities," Jonathan said uncertainly.
"Yeah," Summoner said, "and how about that influx? One out of every ten people I meet at the clubs got sucked here from another dimension."
Jonathan nodded slowly, "I have noticed a lot of extra-dimensional beings lately."
"It's not a coincidence," Summoner said, "and its not a simple escalation. Something is wrong, and the eggheads in the government don't know how to fix it." The spotting scope was gone, now. A sniper rifle replaced it on the snow.
"So what's wrong," Jonathan asked. Summoner didn't exactly seem like an intellectual, and so the Doctor was naturally skeptical of the man's claims.
"Wipe that fucking look off your face," Summoner said in a voice that was part bark, part whisper. "You don't need to be an architect to know how to hammer a nail, Doc. I'm a Summoner. A Dimensional Mechanic. The greasemonkey of the multiverse. I can't always tell you how it works, but I can damn well tell what's going on."
"All right," Jonathan said slowly, "I'm sorry. What exactly is going on?"
"Amateur hour," Summoner said, "that's what."
Jonathan sighed, "Care to elucidate?"
"The bad guys don't know what they're doing," he said as he checked the rifle and ensured the magazine was loaded. "They summoned a big demon, but they did it wrong. Weakened the barriers between dimensions. Everything is being sucked into this one. It's a fucking dimensional shuffle, and that's a dance that goes on forever if someone doesn't figure out how to stop it."
Jonathan considered what his friend was saying. "You mean that alternate versions of these villains are materializing in this realm?"
"Yup," Summoner replied, taking aim through his rifle, "I kill Ape Plus today, and maybe another one shows up tomorrow. Or next week. Or in an hour. I figure the only reason we're not all dead right now is because all these alternate bad guys are gunning for each other just as often as they're gunning for us. So we've got our collective thumbs in the dam. But that won't keep the flood out forever."
"What can we do about it," Jonathan spoke with growing alarm.
"Hope the eggheads figure it out before we run out of thumbs," Summoner said, "You might want to go now, Doc."
"Go? I just got here," Jonathan protested, "I'll help you take down these villains."
"Not this time," Summoner replied in a grave voice, "this one's bad. I can tell. It's going to get ugly, and you might not walk away. Save your thumb for the next crack."
"If this is so bad," Jonathan reasoned, "shouldn't we work together?"
Summoner glanced up at what had become his regular drinking partner. "Fuck off, Doc. I'll see you back at the bar."
"I'd rather not leave you to handle this al-"
"Fuck off, Doc," Summoner spat. "I mean it. I work alone."
Jonathan frowned, "I consider you a friend."
"Oh Jesus," Summoner snapped, "go take your gay somewhere else."
Jonathan's frown deepened, and he shook his head. "Good luck," he said softly, and a moment later he was gone in a flash of visible light and invisible tachyons.
"You too, Doc," Summoner whispered, and returned his attention to the sights of his rifle. His hands trembled a little. He swallowed hard and tried to steady himself. This Ape Plus would be much worse than the others. This one had two heads hanging from his belt. One was the head of a handsome young dimensional mechanic. The other glinted silver in the midday sun. In some other universe, in some other time, this battle had already been fought... And lost.
Perspiration beaded and froze on Summoner's face as he prayed to God for a miracle and squeezed the trigger of his rifle.
Hypocrisy was something he could live with... If he lived.
****************************************
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Sun Dec 06, 2009 7:04 am
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/05/09
_____________________________________________________
"Fate is not the ruler, but the servant of providence." --Edward G Bulwer-Lytton
I have never believed in fate, but today nearly made me a convert. In two chance encounters, I met several members of the House of Thorns, as well as an exciting new friend. Early in the day, I met with a delightful young lady named Rose, and her adoring companion. The encounter ended too soon, when I departed to check on Summoner.
Still no word from him, and no sign of him in the usual haunts. If I've heard nothing by tomorrow, I intend to go to Canada and confront the Overbrain and his simian servant.
Later in the evening, I met a veritable crowd of Thorns members.
Let me say now for the record, these are some of the most stunningly handsome women and men that I have ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon. I prefer the women, of course, but would be dishonest if I did not recognize that they are all physically gifted. I met a Japanese anthropomorphic skunk that nearly made me consider investing in what is commonly known as zooporn. After spending some time chatting with her and her delightful companion, I found a deeper connection with a woman named Fetish.
It was Fetish who finally clued me in on the meaning of Summoner's little joke. He must have known what the House of Thorns was, and thought it would be funny not to tell me. Well... the last laugh is mine.
In movies and on the television, fetishists are portrayed as odd personages. But in Fetish and her cohorts I found a warm, sensitive family of adventurers. They soon proved that their primary focus was crimefighting, as they went to deal with an incident in the Burning Sands. The encounter proved to be above my clearance level, but I saw enough to know the truth. These people may identify themselves by their sexual preferences, but they are, more importantly to me, good souls with a true spirit for justice. There is much I can learn from them.
Fetish seemed a bit confused as to why I'd wish to join the Thorns, given that I do not share their particular tendencies in and around the bedroom. Well... perhaps I do. I've never really explored that in depth. She remarked that other groups have warm, friendly superheroes who act as family... but I do not think she appreciates how unique her group really is. Having applied widely, I know a quality group when I see it.
Fetish implied that I should visit a club that the group is affiliated with called 'Fetish Fuel.' It's certainly not the sort of place I'd usually frequent, but I think she needs to feel assured that I will not judge her people for their lifestyle. I plan to visit the club at my earliest opportunity.
When Fetish and Harbinger (her formidable male companion) went to handle their mission in Burning Sands, I spent some quality time with a synthetic life-form named Emerald. She is a gleaming angellic figure, and like myself, she is made of nanites. I first encountered her during my conversation with Rose, and she gave me a sample of her matrix. The robots that comprise her form are far beyond anything I've ever conceived of. However, I think that I may be able to interact with them, and perhaps even alter their programming. I'll continue to study this possibility in private.
What troubles me about Emerald is the fact that she has the status of a war machine in her home dimension and timeline. I'm not sure I fully understand what that entails. She has no freedom to choose who she will serve and bond with, and this disturbs me. On the other hand, she claims to have freedom to leave her organization at any time, and she tells me that she enjoys her service.
As long as she is happy with her state of affairs, I do not intend to interfere. But if she ever decides that she wants greater freedom, I want to make sure I have the knowledge needed to make that happen. To my mind, all chains should be completely voluntary. If a machine can think, then it is a person, and should have all the rights of a person.
This is likely a concern that will never ripen. As I said, she seems happy, and that is what matters. She offered to help me with the Summoner, and for that I am grateful. I glimpsed her in action, and she is a veritable personification of death. Her makers would surely be proud. For my own part, I am glad to have found a new friend. Perhaps friends. But I do not yet know what the Thorns thought of me in our encounter. I flatter myself to think that Fetish and myself made some sort of personal connection, but I have often mistaken politeness for deeper feelings.
End of File
_____________________________________________________
"Fate is not the ruler, but the servant of providence." --Edward G Bulwer-Lytton
I have never believed in fate, but today nearly made me a convert. In two chance encounters, I met several members of the House of Thorns, as well as an exciting new friend. Early in the day, I met with a delightful young lady named Rose, and her adoring companion. The encounter ended too soon, when I departed to check on Summoner.
Still no word from him, and no sign of him in the usual haunts. If I've heard nothing by tomorrow, I intend to go to Canada and confront the Overbrain and his simian servant.
Later in the evening, I met a veritable crowd of Thorns members.
Let me say now for the record, these are some of the most stunningly handsome women and men that I have ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon. I prefer the women, of course, but would be dishonest if I did not recognize that they are all physically gifted. I met a Japanese anthropomorphic skunk that nearly made me consider investing in what is commonly known as zooporn. After spending some time chatting with her and her delightful companion, I found a deeper connection with a woman named Fetish.
It was Fetish who finally clued me in on the meaning of Summoner's little joke. He must have known what the House of Thorns was, and thought it would be funny not to tell me. Well... the last laugh is mine.
In movies and on the television, fetishists are portrayed as odd personages. But in Fetish and her cohorts I found a warm, sensitive family of adventurers. They soon proved that their primary focus was crimefighting, as they went to deal with an incident in the Burning Sands. The encounter proved to be above my clearance level, but I saw enough to know the truth. These people may identify themselves by their sexual preferences, but they are, more importantly to me, good souls with a true spirit for justice. There is much I can learn from them.
Fetish seemed a bit confused as to why I'd wish to join the Thorns, given that I do not share their particular tendencies in and around the bedroom. Well... perhaps I do. I've never really explored that in depth. She remarked that other groups have warm, friendly superheroes who act as family... but I do not think she appreciates how unique her group really is. Having applied widely, I know a quality group when I see it.
Fetish implied that I should visit a club that the group is affiliated with called 'Fetish Fuel.' It's certainly not the sort of place I'd usually frequent, but I think she needs to feel assured that I will not judge her people for their lifestyle. I plan to visit the club at my earliest opportunity.
When Fetish and Harbinger (her formidable male companion) went to handle their mission in Burning Sands, I spent some quality time with a synthetic life-form named Emerald. She is a gleaming angellic figure, and like myself, she is made of nanites. I first encountered her during my conversation with Rose, and she gave me a sample of her matrix. The robots that comprise her form are far beyond anything I've ever conceived of. However, I think that I may be able to interact with them, and perhaps even alter their programming. I'll continue to study this possibility in private.
What troubles me about Emerald is the fact that she has the status of a war machine in her home dimension and timeline. I'm not sure I fully understand what that entails. She has no freedom to choose who she will serve and bond with, and this disturbs me. On the other hand, she claims to have freedom to leave her organization at any time, and she tells me that she enjoys her service.
As long as she is happy with her state of affairs, I do not intend to interfere. But if she ever decides that she wants greater freedom, I want to make sure I have the knowledge needed to make that happen. To my mind, all chains should be completely voluntary. If a machine can think, then it is a person, and should have all the rights of a person.
This is likely a concern that will never ripen. As I said, she seems happy, and that is what matters. She offered to help me with the Summoner, and for that I am grateful. I glimpsed her in action, and she is a veritable personification of death. Her makers would surely be proud. For my own part, I am glad to have found a new friend. Perhaps friends. But I do not yet know what the Thorns thought of me in our encounter. I flatter myself to think that Fetish and myself made some sort of personal connection, but I have often mistaken politeness for deeper feelings.
End of File
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Sun Dec 06, 2009 9:57 am
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/05/09
Addendum
_____________________________________________________
I succeeded in my first major action against the criminal forces of Millenium City!
Until now, I have worked exclusively in Canada, but now, with the apprehension of several escaped prisoners, I finally have a name for myself in the states.
I couldn't have done it without the assistance of a Thorns member named Rin. Beautiful and powerful, she has the ability to heal and to destroy. Perhaps a bit like myself, though clearly she is in full possession of her formidable powers. Meanwhile, I am still learning.
I hope that this is but the first in a series of collaborations with Rin in particular and the Thorns in general. This is exactly the sort of mentoring and assistance I've been needing in order to find my full potential.
End of File
Addendum
_____________________________________________________
I succeeded in my first major action against the criminal forces of Millenium City!
Until now, I have worked exclusively in Canada, but now, with the apprehension of several escaped prisoners, I finally have a name for myself in the states.
I couldn't have done it without the assistance of a Thorns member named Rin. Beautiful and powerful, she has the ability to heal and to destroy. Perhaps a bit like myself, though clearly she is in full possession of her formidable powers. Meanwhile, I am still learning.
I hope that this is but the first in a series of collaborations with Rin in particular and the Thorns in general. This is exactly the sort of mentoring and assistance I've been needing in order to find my full potential.
End of File
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Mon Dec 07, 2009 9:03 am
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/06/09
_____________________________________________________
Today, after getting no word from Summoner, I attempted to contact Emerald for assistance. Unfortunately, there was no response on her private frequency. I desperately wish to interrogate Ape Plus and the Overbrain, but fear I am not skilled enough to overcome them. Most particularly not if Summoner failed to take them out.
The only other heroes I know on a personal level are affiliated with or somehow associated with the House of Thorns. Yet, I would not want to make a social misstep in asking them for assistance while my application is under review.
I did meet someone in the Thorns today who might be able both to help me, and to keep her aid a secret. Her name was Selina, and she is a formidable warrioress with a tragic history. Like me, she is an entity that some do not even consider to be a person. Perhaps with that common bond, she would consent to travel with me to Canada and confront the Brain Trust?
No matter the consequence, I must find out what has become of Summoner. Each day that I let slip by could bring my friend one step closer to doom. Other than the Thorns I have met, he is the only hero who has consented to treat me like an equal. He is abrasive, rude, and his language is abhorrent... but he is currently my oldest friend.
I can't leave him in the lurch.
End of File
_____________________________________________________
Today, after getting no word from Summoner, I attempted to contact Emerald for assistance. Unfortunately, there was no response on her private frequency. I desperately wish to interrogate Ape Plus and the Overbrain, but fear I am not skilled enough to overcome them. Most particularly not if Summoner failed to take them out.
The only other heroes I know on a personal level are affiliated with or somehow associated with the House of Thorns. Yet, I would not want to make a social misstep in asking them for assistance while my application is under review.
I did meet someone in the Thorns today who might be able both to help me, and to keep her aid a secret. Her name was Selina, and she is a formidable warrioress with a tragic history. Like me, she is an entity that some do not even consider to be a person. Perhaps with that common bond, she would consent to travel with me to Canada and confront the Brain Trust?
No matter the consequence, I must find out what has become of Summoner. Each day that I let slip by could bring my friend one step closer to doom. Other than the Thorns I have met, he is the only hero who has consented to treat me like an equal. He is abrasive, rude, and his language is abhorrent... but he is currently my oldest friend.
I can't leave him in the lurch.
End of File
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Mon Dec 07, 2009 9:32 am
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - 12/06/09
Addendum
_____________________________________________________
I just heard from Steelhead that they had reports of a hero killed who matched Summoner's description. I hope they are mistaken.
Upon hearing the news, I made a broad sweep of radio frequencies close to known Thorn frequencies in the hopes of contacting Rin. I'd have called Sel, but she mentioned going on a trip to a distant island.
Unfortunately, I had no luck, and only managed to upset various people who answered their radios wondering why the devil I was bothering them.
Do I dare take on the Brain Trust unaided?
I suppose this is what they call a 'defining moment.'
End of File
Addendum
_____________________________________________________
I just heard from Steelhead that they had reports of a hero killed who matched Summoner's description. I hope they are mistaken.
Upon hearing the news, I made a broad sweep of radio frequencies close to known Thorn frequencies in the hopes of contacting Rin. I'd have called Sel, but she mentioned going on a trip to a distant island.
Unfortunately, I had no luck, and only managed to upset various people who answered their radios wondering why the devil I was bothering them.
Do I dare take on the Brain Trust unaided?
I suppose this is what they call a 'defining moment.'
End of File
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Mon Dec 07, 2009 7:33 pm
Episode 2 - Canada - The Geneva Convention
*************************************
A billion nanites shattered into crystalline debris as Ape Plus smashed his heavy fist into Jonathan's chest. The impact was equal to being struck by an eighteen wheeler, and the Doctor was hurled backwards a dozen meters to crash into one of the site's portable fusion generators.
Despite no longer needing to breathe in order to survive, Jonathan found himself panicking as the reflex tried to assert itself. Where once lungs had been, now a caved-in collection of microscopic robots filled the void. Pain seared his metallic frame as the nanites dutifully conveyed the signals of agony to the organ which had once been his brain.
"Can you feel your brain melting, hero," the Overbrain taunted as it hovered overhead. Apparently, that floating lump of gray-matter had not yet clued in to the fact that Jonathan was a completely synthetic entity. Still, it was a small comfort. Another strike like the one he'd just endured, and this fight would be over.
Ape Plus leaped close, and the Overbrain descended to lance a few tendrils of electricity at him. Trying to overload his electrical capacity, perhaps? In this damaged and weakened state, such an overload just might be possible. And what then? Surely they'd finish the job, this time. They'd melt him to slag or keep him for study in a giant vat. Nothing good. Nothing he could come back from.
Pushing himself up from the generator, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He glanced at the device. A sign declared it to be rated for 1.21 Gigawatt output. If he combined that with his own power...
Without hesitating further, Jonathan smashed his right fist into the generator's outlet. Then he extended his left hand towards the two villains of the brain trust. All of the energy from the generator and his own myriad nanite robots combined into a massive forked bolt of lightning. The flash was blinding, and the roar was deafening. The earth shook with the power being released, and the generator exploded with a spray of shrapnel.
For a time, there was nothing. Jonathan's body was over 50% destroyed. Smoke rose from his body, and he was only peripherally aware of the world around him. Gradually, as the robots within him did their work, he came back to himself. Rising slowly from the ground, he looked around. The Overbrain lay in a partially melted heap. But Ape Plus was just barely stirring.
Leaping atop of the great ape, Jonathan released a brief charge into his chest.
"Argh!" the beast made an unhappy sound, and then lay still and helpless, looking up at the unlikely hero who had bested him.
"Tell me what you have done with the Summoner," Jonathan demanded. Only then did he notice the decorations at the Ape's belt. Two heads hung from webbing. One of them was Jonathan's. Impossible and unmistakable at the same time. The other was Summoner's. Much more possible... but what did it mean? How could his own head be on this creature's belt?
It only made sense if the Summoner was right. In another dimension, it might be that Ape Plus had killed both Summoner and Jonathan. He hoped that was a correct interpretation. It was gruesome to hope for the death of a stranger instead of a friend, but it was also very human.
"The second one," Ape Plus asked.
Jonathan felt instant relief. So, there had been another Summoner. Someone else's Summoner. "Yes, now tell me what happened to him."
Ape Plus smirked, blood tainting his lips, "I'll never tell."
Jonathan's lips curled into a malicious sneer, "You don't have to. I can send my nanites to map your brain, and steal it from your mind."
Ape Plus' eyes went wide. "NO! Not my brain!"
"Then tell me, you overstuffed fleabag," Jonathan demanded.
Ape Plus shook his head, "Never!"
"So be it," Jonathan declared, and reached down to grip the ape's head. It would be a small thing, to map his brain. Some damage would doubtless be done, but didn't he deserve it? Wasn't he a villain? Hadn't he brought this on himself?"
Jonathan hesitated. This was not murder or maiming in the heat of battle. This was torture. Torture of a free-willed sentient being, and stealing their every experience. This was not heroic, no matter the reason. This was the making of a villain.
Defining moments, indeed.
"I'm taking you back to Steelhead," he declared. "Perhaps if you cooperate, they will expedite your release."
Unlikely. This Ape had blood on his hands. There would be no 'get out of jail card' for him. ...And that meant Jonathan was no closer to finding his friend than he had been before.
All of this had been for nothing.
*********************************************
*************************************
A billion nanites shattered into crystalline debris as Ape Plus smashed his heavy fist into Jonathan's chest. The impact was equal to being struck by an eighteen wheeler, and the Doctor was hurled backwards a dozen meters to crash into one of the site's portable fusion generators.
Despite no longer needing to breathe in order to survive, Jonathan found himself panicking as the reflex tried to assert itself. Where once lungs had been, now a caved-in collection of microscopic robots filled the void. Pain seared his metallic frame as the nanites dutifully conveyed the signals of agony to the organ which had once been his brain.
"Can you feel your brain melting, hero," the Overbrain taunted as it hovered overhead. Apparently, that floating lump of gray-matter had not yet clued in to the fact that Jonathan was a completely synthetic entity. Still, it was a small comfort. Another strike like the one he'd just endured, and this fight would be over.
Ape Plus leaped close, and the Overbrain descended to lance a few tendrils of electricity at him. Trying to overload his electrical capacity, perhaps? In this damaged and weakened state, such an overload just might be possible. And what then? Surely they'd finish the job, this time. They'd melt him to slag or keep him for study in a giant vat. Nothing good. Nothing he could come back from.
Pushing himself up from the generator, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He glanced at the device. A sign declared it to be rated for 1.21 Gigawatt output. If he combined that with his own power...
Without hesitating further, Jonathan smashed his right fist into the generator's outlet. Then he extended his left hand towards the two villains of the brain trust. All of the energy from the generator and his own myriad nanite robots combined into a massive forked bolt of lightning. The flash was blinding, and the roar was deafening. The earth shook with the power being released, and the generator exploded with a spray of shrapnel.
For a time, there was nothing. Jonathan's body was over 50% destroyed. Smoke rose from his body, and he was only peripherally aware of the world around him. Gradually, as the robots within him did their work, he came back to himself. Rising slowly from the ground, he looked around. The Overbrain lay in a partially melted heap. But Ape Plus was just barely stirring.
Leaping atop of the great ape, Jonathan released a brief charge into his chest.
"Argh!" the beast made an unhappy sound, and then lay still and helpless, looking up at the unlikely hero who had bested him.
"Tell me what you have done with the Summoner," Jonathan demanded. Only then did he notice the decorations at the Ape's belt. Two heads hung from webbing. One of them was Jonathan's. Impossible and unmistakable at the same time. The other was Summoner's. Much more possible... but what did it mean? How could his own head be on this creature's belt?
It only made sense if the Summoner was right. In another dimension, it might be that Ape Plus had killed both Summoner and Jonathan. He hoped that was a correct interpretation. It was gruesome to hope for the death of a stranger instead of a friend, but it was also very human.
"The second one," Ape Plus asked.
Jonathan felt instant relief. So, there had been another Summoner. Someone else's Summoner. "Yes, now tell me what happened to him."
Ape Plus smirked, blood tainting his lips, "I'll never tell."
Jonathan's lips curled into a malicious sneer, "You don't have to. I can send my nanites to map your brain, and steal it from your mind."
Ape Plus' eyes went wide. "NO! Not my brain!"
"Then tell me, you overstuffed fleabag," Jonathan demanded.
Ape Plus shook his head, "Never!"
"So be it," Jonathan declared, and reached down to grip the ape's head. It would be a small thing, to map his brain. Some damage would doubtless be done, but didn't he deserve it? Wasn't he a villain? Hadn't he brought this on himself?"
Jonathan hesitated. This was not murder or maiming in the heat of battle. This was torture. Torture of a free-willed sentient being, and stealing their every experience. This was not heroic, no matter the reason. This was the making of a villain.
Defining moments, indeed.
"I'm taking you back to Steelhead," he declared. "Perhaps if you cooperate, they will expedite your release."
Unlikely. This Ape had blood on his hands. There would be no 'get out of jail card' for him. ...And that meant Jonathan was no closer to finding his friend than he had been before.
All of this had been for nothing.
*********************************************
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Mon Dec 07, 2009 8:47 pm
Medical Journal - Doctor Jonathan Silver - December 7, 2009
______________________________________________________
My nearly fatal encounter with the Brain Trust has convinced me that I am going to need reliable, regular assistance in order to combat the manifold dangers of the crimefighting world. Certainly, I will not be able to unravel the mystery of what happened to Summoner without some aid.
This realization brought me to consider what sorts of help I should try to find. Responses to my HeroPage blog have not been heartening. One respondent said I looked like a 'Gay Disco Star from the Seventies." While I did enjoy Disco, I do not want people to mistake me as being homosexual. It would be exceedingly difficult to find romance if the wrong people were making advances.
... Not that I get many advances.
I also want to accentuate my Superheroic moniker of 'Doctor Silver,' and I think I may have to start introducing myself to people that way. It's still my name, but it carries a certain cache' when presented in that manner. Unfortunately, my costume does not convey 'Doctor.' Due to certain limitations of physics, I try to leave myself bare-chested as much as possible to keep from burning undershirts. On the other hand, I do convey 'Silver,' so the job is half done.
After much consideration, I decided to post the following advertisement in the want-ads of the Millenium Herald:
********************************************************
SMH (Single Male Hero) looking for FH (Female Hero) for crimefighting partnership.
No Experience Required.
Nurse or Medical themed costumes a plus!
Must be comfortable associating with people in the alternative communities.
Must be willing to give advice, but also to take orders.
Contact Doctor Silver at gamma frequency 359.7 THZ for an interview,
or leave mail at HeroBox Doctor Silver@SaintAdalberto.
Bring your costume!
*********************************************************
Hopefully this will get the sort of response I'm looking for.
End of File
______________________________________________________
My nearly fatal encounter with the Brain Trust has convinced me that I am going to need reliable, regular assistance in order to combat the manifold dangers of the crimefighting world. Certainly, I will not be able to unravel the mystery of what happened to Summoner without some aid.
This realization brought me to consider what sorts of help I should try to find. Responses to my HeroPage blog have not been heartening. One respondent said I looked like a 'Gay Disco Star from the Seventies." While I did enjoy Disco, I do not want people to mistake me as being homosexual. It would be exceedingly difficult to find romance if the wrong people were making advances.
... Not that I get many advances.
I also want to accentuate my Superheroic moniker of 'Doctor Silver,' and I think I may have to start introducing myself to people that way. It's still my name, but it carries a certain cache' when presented in that manner. Unfortunately, my costume does not convey 'Doctor.' Due to certain limitations of physics, I try to leave myself bare-chested as much as possible to keep from burning undershirts. On the other hand, I do convey 'Silver,' so the job is half done.
After much consideration, I decided to post the following advertisement in the want-ads of the Millenium Herald:
********************************************************
SMH (Single Male Hero) looking for FH (Female Hero) for crimefighting partnership.
No Experience Required.
Nurse or Medical themed costumes a plus!
Must be comfortable associating with people in the alternative communities.
Must be willing to give advice, but also to take orders.
Contact Doctor Silver at gamma frequency 359.7 THZ for an interview,
or leave mail at HeroBox Doctor Silver@SaintAdalberto.
Bring your costume!
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Hopefully this will get the sort of response I'm looking for.
End of File
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
Lilith- Matriarch of the House
- Posts : 1995
Join date : 2009-11-06
Re: Application - Doctor Silver
Doctor Silver Tue Dec 15, 2009 10:00 am
Thanks to all for having me.
I'll endeavor not to make you regret it. :-)
--Silver
I'll endeavor not to make you regret it. :-)
--Silver
Doctor Silver- Posts : 107
Join date : 2009-12-01
Age : 49
Location : Phoenix
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