Virtue is its Own Reward: 2.0

[Niteflier]

Waking up was strange.

I couldn't place why it was odd, other than the fact that I was lying on something fairly hard, the carpet, it felt like to my arms.

Then I opened my eyes.

"Pat?" My wife is kneeling above me, her face, voice, and aura highly concerned. I can make out other details of the room now, the chatter over the
video call, the air conditioner fan running, and faintly, the soft booming tones of the City of Heroes login screen.

"Yah?" I ask, and for a moment, I'm confused at my voice. It seemed much too high pitched, almost soprano, whereas mine was a mid-tenor.
Wasn't it? "What's wrong?"

Her aura shifts a bit to include some measure of relief, but worry is still a major part of it. "Pat.. you're... you look like that CoH character
you've been playing all day." This last came out in a rush, almost like she couldn't believe it.

I blinked, then gingerly sat up. My head felt a little woozy, maybe from the Monster I'd been sipping at for the past few hours. Or was it from when we
trapaised up Death Hill to the Colossuses?

Waitaminute. Auras. Imperious' tasks. Looking like Brah.

"What the hell?"

[Ransan]

July 5, 2009
– 9:15 pm CDT

Le Silve Apartments, Middleton WI

 

Randy “Ran-san” McCullick took a sip of his tea, and then
glared at the screen in mock annoyance. “Dude. You pumpkining on me already?” He said into
his microphone.

 

“Sorry!” Said the disembodided voice of his friend, Robert “Baseload”
Laib. “It’s been a big day. And some of us have to WORK
tomorrow, you know. I’ve been on this all day and I have to do some chores before bed.”

 

Ran mock-snorted. “Well as long as you have an excuse. Talk
to you tomorrow.”

 

“Good-night, Ran.”

 

Ran Alt-Tabbed a moment to kill Skype and switched back to
the game. He looked at the mission. “Right. Time for Nam
to kill this AV and finish this storyline.” He smiled as he took another sip of
tea. This was going to be fun.

 

15 Minutes later

 

Ran grinned smugly. “Record time.” He’d made it to the final
room. Now to take out the AV and be done with it.

 

He slammed down some inspirations on Nam
and leaped into battle. He had just started his first attack when –

 

LAGSPIKE

 

Ran’s hands jerked back from his controller as he receive a
jolt of some kind from both the controlled and his headset. He leaped to his feet and threw his headset off. “OW! THE HELL, MAN!” He
felt wet by his feet and realized he had spilled his nearly full tea glass on
the floor when he jerked his hand away. “AW, DAMMIT!”

He also realized the lagspike was over, and he was very VERY
dead on screen. “And…that makes it perfect.”

 

 

[The Legendary] Atlantea: Night, DS

[The Legendary] Foxboy: LAter DS

[The Legendary] Foxboy: Huh. That's weird.

[The Legendary] Valles: ?

[The Legendary] Foxboy: My graphics look a lot better after that spike. Weird..

[The Legendary] OpMegs: Don't knock it, free gfx upgrades rock.

[The Legendary] Ran-san: Ow! Dammit, my PC just shocked me. I spilled tea all
over the room. I’m going to have to clean it up
now. I think I’ll log and look at my PC tomorrow for shorts.

[The Legendary] Terrence Knight: Ouch. ‘Nite, Ran.

[The Legendary] Ran-san: Hey, the graphics do look better though.

Ran quickly grabbed some towels and mopped up the mess. It
was nearly a full glass and the cleaning took nearly a full half hour. Now he was tired. In fact…the bed looked awfully
good right now. He was usually up a few more hours, but….

Ran’s brain didn’t get much farther before he fell forward
onto the bed, unconscious.

[HDTrio]

It's a very interesting day, when everything you've ever considered or though of suddenly changes into something else.

There I was. Simply chatting with Kyoumen, about the day. About lots of things, it's all hard to remember now. But it was nice. I'm sure of that. And
then...

The whole world changed forever.

----------

"Ugh. My head hurts more then it should..." I think, reaching up to rub my temple. But my arms don't seem to move. How odd. Then I freeze as a
rush of thoughts fill my head. Beings of power, with aura so bright it leaves me blinded. Blood. Death. Thousands of voices, to many, to many to
concentrate...Why won't they be -quiet-? Then silence. My eyes would widen but then, my eyes aren't exactly -mine- anymore. Then the voice. The voice
I'd always written about, always imagined, and described in the -best- detail I could..And in the world, it's sounded. Through what was once my mouth,
it sounds.

"Ahhh...You are awake..welcome back to the land consciousness, child." The man speaks, as he paces through -my- room. His deep purple eyes,
surrounded with black rings of so long without sleep, the knuckles upon his hands bleeding, as they always will, forever reminding him, and, now, I suppose,
me, of his imprisonment. His long black trench coat waves behind him, as he turns suddenly, to glare at the closed foor of my apartment, snarling gently, as if
willing it to explode. It doesn't. He growls, but then straightens again, his green chest armour streching to contain him as he flexes, his pants swelling,
as he tries to extend his aura wider. When it does not, he sighs. "This is your fault. I had -finally- gained freedom. -Finally- was beginning gain my
power back..And what happens? It's ruined by -you-. You blasted, da...Nevermind. It does no good to become angry, or to go mad. My power is lost, for now.
And it seems that you and I are one, Horned Dragon." Laughs softly. Cruely. "What a ridicoulous name."

I snort softly. "Like Nitros Eevlock is any better, you sociopathic freak?" To my suprise..He laughs. "-You- named me, Fool. How odd that is, to
discover that all this time, you've been a -story book- character..No matter, I'm not anymore...And, I suppose, this will work to my advantage...There
is -no competition-! None of the...-others- you made. I think I shall hate you for a time, for all that you've made...and destroyed. But nontheless.."
I blink inside my mind. I frown gently. "Nontheless -what-?"

He would smirk, softly, his lips streching a little to do so, as he moves to the door, and throws it open, his muscles flexing again, lightning on his
fingertips. "Nontheless, we have work to do..."

It's odd, really, that something so simple seeming as a lag spike would change my life, perhaps all lives, forever...

[Logan Darklighter]

It was turning into a particularly quick run of the Imperious Task Force. And we were cutting through the Romans even on "lag hill" like they
practically weren't there.

I was doing my usual impression of a warrior in a "Mu" battle trance. I enjoyed flicking my eyes down to the chat window and occasionally catching up
on the conversation. I ran with a particularly fun bunch of online friends who collectively could've given Mystery Science Theator a run for their money in
the snark department. And watching the conversations taking place was perhaps as much fun as playing the game itself.

But I always marveled that anyone (especially on a Task Force!) could talk so much! My typing speed is pretty decent at about 40-50 WPM, but even so, I
marveled at the people in the group who somehow managed to type and fight at the same time. I worried sometimes that people would think I wasn't paying
attention or not appreciative of what they were talking about, but I hardly ever had the time to type a response when in combat, and especially not when I
played Cyberman 8.

The attack chain for C8 cycled so fast that if he was to be used to best effect, I had to be constantly on the power selection keys cueing up his next attack,
switching targets, or whatever else needed to be done in a fight. More than any of my other characters, I had to be ahead of the curve, and that meant I tended
to narrow my focus. I sometimes would lose track of everything but the next target.

And that meant I missed when the first signs of something strange started to happen.

Cyberman 8 was out a bit ahead of the pack when a particularly bad lag spike hit us. For a full 10-count, nothing I did had any reaction from the screen. Then
the screen went dark completely. I cursed but was prepared. My screen had a slight glitch in it that sometimes made it cut out. Unplugging the power to it and
then plugging it back in would restore it every time. I reached behind the monitor to do just that. Then sat back and watched the screen "catch"
again and brighten.

When it did, I started to notice something really strange.

No lag for one thing, though I was on a section of the map notorious for it. I panned my "camera" around, and noticed the light of the sun off of the
sand was really bright. I squinted my eyes at my monitor at the brightness of it. A couple of the other members of the Task Force were commenting on it. The
graphics looked... incredibly good. No "jaggies" anywhere. And it was getting BETTER as I looked! As good as it was, City of Heroes graphical
representation was, after all, a sort of "animated" look.

I brought in my camera so that instead of the usual over-the-shoulder view, I was looking directly out from Cyberman's POV, and guided him over to where
the other members of the party had paused. I looked at them in confusion and no small about of awe as they each morphed slowly from their "cartoony"
aspect into looking like real, living and breathing people. Expressions of confusion crossed their faces as they looked at each other.

That was when I knew something really weird was going on. I reached up and shook my monitor just a little, just testing... I'm not sure what I expected to
happen, really. I'm not sure if I was testing to see if the monitor was real and I could touch it. Maybe I was testing to see if the graphics would go back
to being normal. I'm not sure what I was thinking.

Whatever it was I was expecting, it wasn't what happened.

The screen... rippled. It was like I was no longer looking at something with a solid surface, but into a pool of... something... suspended by the square frame
of the monitor.

I scooted back away in alarm and stood up. I was prepared to bolt out of there, because this was definitely "a 9.0 on my weird shit-o-meter". But
curiosity held me there. I carefully reached out a fingertip to the screen to see if the gently rippling surface was really there. Was it solid? Liquid? Was I
hallucinating it? How the HELL was it staying VERTICAL and not flowing or falling out of the monitor?

I touched the surface of the screen and it rippled as if I'd put my fingers in a pond. I jerked my hand back and the substance of the screen pulled with
it, stretching like taffy. The colors and depth faded into a quicksilver distortion as the substance of the screen.... stretched and then let go of my fingers
with a rebounding set of ripples.

And some of it remained stuck to my fingers. I looked at my hand, and saw quicksilver mercury and felt my fingers start to go numb.

"Oh no.. no no no..." I started to panic as the stuff started slowly flowing down to cover the first joints. I'd SEEN this movie before and did
NOT like where this was going.

Unlike Neo though, I wasn't strapped down, so I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, trying to wipe the damn stuff off my hand. Only to find that it
wasn't actually a liquid. It just looked that way. Nothing came off. The mercury WAS my fingers - well now my hand my arm up to my elbow. And the numbness
spread with it.

When it reached my shiftsleeve and I saw the material being shredded, I wondered if that was happening to my body. I had the urge to yell for help, but the
process, whatever it was, was accelerating. It would be complete long before any help arrived, and what could they do?

I made it to my bed before it claimed my legs.

When it got to my head I lost consciousness. Probably just as well that I did.

Consciousness fled like a flame being snuffed.

----

I came to like someone flicked a switch. All the lights were on all at once where before was blackness.

Running a systems check, everything seemed nominal. Status reports in my HUD showed all green.

My internal clock showed a discontinuity of 38.9 minutes since...

Wait.

WHAT?

I jumped up out of my bed and was into the hall and back at the bathroom mirror in a tenth of a second.

My skin was nearly white. No color in it. I was wearing a helmet with a distinctive "V" shape above the brim in red. And there was a large red
numeral "8" super-imposed on the black and white pattern on my uniform.

"Oh, man, this isn't happening, it only thinks its happening."

I said it like a mantra.

[Sofaspud]

Chris: Spud, I've got an idea...

I wrenched control of my fingers back from Rhea -- a sensation not unlike one hand fighting the other in a thumb war -- and bashed out a quick response.

Brian: You know I hate it when you say things like that... Ok, I'm ready, hit me. *braces for impact*

Chris: Where are you?

Brian: My house?

Chris: Coordinates, smartarse

I blinked at the screen, Uni peering over my shoulder. I turned to meet her eyes; we shared a glance and shrugged at each other.

Brian: one sec, googling

I punched in "lat long address" and picked the first search result -- a standard tactic of mine and one which I'd had good luck with in the past.
Sure enough, it was a mapping utility to convert an address to a set of coordinates. My address got me a set of numbers stretching out to six decimals; I
hurriedly typed them in and sent them to MD.

Brian: ok, now what/

?

Chris: see you in a few seconds!

"He's lost it," I said, staring at the screen.

Uni shrugged. We waited.

And waited.

Brian: you still there?

No response.

"You think he's okay?" Uni asked, her tone worried. I shrugged by way of answer and resumed drumming my fingers on the workbench -- Rhea using
my other hand to pet Mr. Whiskers.

The phone rang. I raised an eyebrow at the caller ID -- Unavailable -- and picked it up. "Hello?"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE, MR. WIZARD!"

I winced and held the handset away from my ear. The accent was unmistakable; I'd heard it often enough in voice chat. And, let's face it: I
didn't know any other Australians. At least, none that had my phone number.

"MD?" I replied incredulously. "Where are you?"

"IN A BLOODY RIVER!" was his -- her? It was Tam, apparently -- reply. Somewhat more calmly, she continued (over the sound of roaring water),
"And not to put too much of a rush on you, Spud, but I see what looks like a dam up ahead. With power lines on it. Get the idea?"

Uni nudged past me to the other laptop, the one she'd ... boosted, for lack of a better word, earlier. "Tracing the call," she said to me, her
fingers resting lightly on the keys as her body shifted again in that creepy, disconcerting fashion, becoming Quicksilver Nano -- fortunately without the
eye-searing auras that made her look like a walking light-bulb in the game. I noted and very carefully didn't notice that she wasn't typing; the
laptop was just... doing things.

"Just hang on, man," I said into the phone. A thought struck me. "You have a waterproof cell phone? Awesome!"

"SPUD!"

"Sorry, sorry," I replied, my brain racing.

"Got her," Uni -- er, Silver -- said, spinning her laptop to face me. A blinking dot in the middle of the Spokane River, just upstream of the
hydroelectric plant. Even as I watched, part of the screen expanded to show a real-time image as Silver worked her magic. There in the digitally-enhanced
frame, barely visible in the reflected light from the dam, a panicked-looking bedraggled... PPD officer? wallowed in the current.

I groaned. "That's, what, two, three miles from here? We'll never make it in time!"

"Mr. Whiskers can grab her," Rhea said, shrugging our shoulders. "But he says he can't channel it through you." She blinked and our
lips quirked in a grin. "Well, actually, what he said was you can't handle the power involved, but I was trying to be polite."

"Gee, thanks," I said. "So we're screwed, you're saying."

Both the women in the room crossed their arms and glared at me -- Silver physically, Rhea mentally.

"What?" I replied.

"I'm not going to let Tam die because you're afraid!" Rhea snapped, bringing us to our feet. The handset clattered to the bench, a
plaintive, "Spud? Now would be a good time..." coming tinnily out of the speaker.

"Now, wait just a goddamned minute here--" I began -- then the pain hit.

You know that scene in The Matrix, the first time they jam the spike into Neo's brain? That look on his face as his body arches and writhes, where you
can't tell if he's in agony or if it's the best orgasm of his life or both at once? Yeah. That.

When I was myself again, I was no longer myself. Rhea giggled and twirled on the balls of one foot. "That feels SO much better!" she cried.

"WHAT THE HELL, MAN!" I bellowed.

"Oh, shush," she replied. "I have to concentrate." So saying, Rhea bent over the laptop as Silver edged out of the way, her blank,
glowing eyes revealing nothing of her thoughts. I could see a half-reflection in the screen of Rhea's face -- not mine.

Her eyes were brown.

"Let's do it, Whiskers!" Rhea cried, and I felt a strange surge as something happened.

With a pop and a bright flash, Tam appeared in midair and fell to the concrete floor with a wet thud.

Rhea followed, with me along for the ride. As the floor approached, I had time to giggle insanely to myself and remark in the no-longer-private reaches of my
own head, "We're out o' pow'r, cap'n! She cannae take nae more!"

Thud.

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[Dragonflight]

I was amazed how fast I managed to lock it down.

Of course, I had help I hadn't expected. As I was working out mental techniques for locking the shapeshifting down - so I wouldn't do things like shift
in my sleep and stuff - I found myself repeating exercises Cassie had taught me to focus my awareness. This of course freaked me right out like you
wouldn't believe. I had memories of Paragon City... but they were fairly sparse. Atlas park, and that giant statue of Atlas, who'd sacrificed his life
defending the world from the Nazi invasion. Always an uplifting experience. The costume contests were fun, but honestly, I can say my favorite memories were
just hitching up on the side of the plaza with a picnic lunch, and watching the costumed heroes zip by.

"Damnit, focus," I growled. That wasn't me, and they weren't my memories. They were filler, created
out of who knew where by who knew who.

Certainly not the world around me. I don't have cable, so I don't watch a lot of TV. So I really didn't clue in at first that this wasn't just
me. But eventually I checked out the CBC site online, and sure enough, this had happened to hundreds of other players.
It was estimated that the count might be in the thousands, but not all those affected had come forward. Like me.

I'd like to say I didn't announce what I was capable of because I was worried about how my family would react. Or how it might affect my return to
school soon. Or a hundred other possible reasons. But the real reason? I was scared. I had the ability to hide what
happened behind a veil of normalcy. so I didn't want to tell anyone. And frankly, I had more than a few nervous
images of traditional MIB's showing up to whisk me away to secret government labs for heinous research experiments, never to be heard from again.

Okay. Breathe. You're not going to wind up in a lab somewhere. In... Out... That's better.

The kicker were the third set of memories. I mentioned a while back that I'd made this character for an old game I'd played in. Well, that game had run
for several years, and by the time it concluded, we'd become a quasi-illegal action team responsible for saving
the whole world and toppling several major western governments in the process. And I had those memories in my head
too. And that was another issue to deal with. Since I'd specifically built Kara initially as a bit of a basket case. I didn't understand the game
system at the time I built her, so I arranged it so that I could learn the system slowly, as her mind was repaired by a very loving telepath named Cassandra.
By the end of the game, Kara had been in a permanent mindlink with her. And in some strange, ethereal dimension of my cortex, a part of me knew it was supposed
to be there and it wasn't.

So yeah, the mental exercises were very necessary. I spent several days just getting my head together before I tried venturing outside to face the world.

Did I do anything memorable during that time? Well, actually... yeah. I'd called my best friend. I wanted to sound him out on what I should tell friends
and family. I trusted him totally. It went something like this:

"Ah... You know that thing they're going on about on TV? About the whole City of Heroes incident?"

A pause on the phone. "Were you affected?"

"Yep."

Another pause. "You sound normal. What happened?"

"I got an old character I made. Kara. You know, from the old Evil Marvel game. She shapeshifts, so I guess I caught a break there."

"Hmm... What are you going to do about it?"

"Damned if I know. I was just wondering how I'd go about telling the family about this."

"I wouldn't, actually. Don't tell them anything. At least, not right away. And if she shapeshifts, you might want to have some kind of alternate
image to show them. Something they'll accept."

I sighed. "Probably a good idea."

The rest you can guess. Which leaves me where I am now. I remember how Foxfire patrolled Paragon and the Hollows before the accident. I recall how Kara trained
to overthrow the infiltrated Western forces, led by the seemingly invincible Shadow King. And I know I can effortlessly kick ass in several exotic flavors. But
in both realities, I had either one hell of a medical plan, or armor made by a party member who also owned most of Yamaha Heavy Industries. Lacking that, I
needed armor. Or the first two-bit thug in a back alley with a gun would kill me.

I recalled something I could do in one set of memories. When Kara had been part of the apocalyptic group who called themselves the Chronos Cell. Energy form.
Living electricity. I even remembered how I did it.

The mere thought of doing this scared the crap out of me. It would be a long time before I had the guts to try it...
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.

[Unicorna]

I caught Rhea's body as it fell to the floor easily. Even though I was barely was as tall as the defender's waist, I was much, much stronger than
appearances would make it seem. Laying a hand over her chest, I left a packet of nannites there to monitor her heartbeat and breathing. They were both going
steadily, but she was still out like a light. The teleport must have been harder in this world than in the game. With my other hand I tucked the Mr
Whiskers-panda in her arm so it'd be there when she came back to the world.

Then I went to check in on the newcomer in the middle of the room. She was shivering in reaction and I had the feeling that some of the water droplets falling
off her body weren't from the river. I glanced around the room and saw a box marked "Summer Swim Stuff" and shifted back to my normal human form
to be able to reach it. Inside was a giant beach blanket that had been kept amazingly clean for not having been used yet this summer. As I pulled it out, I
noted with a grin that at least it was warm. This time of year Eastern Washington had a habit of not getting below the 80s all night long.

I wrapped her in the towel and picked her up, again amazing myself mentally with my strength with 'Body by Nannites'. Going over to a bench not too far
from Rhea/Spud's unconscious form, I sat down and held Tam in my lap. She finally relaxed enough to let herself sob into my shoulder for a few minutes
before calming down. I grinned down at her once the storm had passed."There now, feel better?"

She nodded and sniffled back at me. "Yeah... I was just, scared. I know I shouldn't have been, but I never was a great swimmer and I didn't know
how I was going to get out of the water there and.."

I shushed her before she let that though continue too far. "Don't worry about it, you're safe now." Then I gave her a *look*. "That was
a dumb fool move though, you know. You're halfway across the slagging planet! HOW did you make it here?"

She grinned at me and pointed at the small contraption that had been in one of her hands after Rhea pulled her out of the Spokane River. "Why, the Mission
Teleporter of course. That thing can teleport me across TIME, why can't it make it from Australia to America?"

I just shook my head at her sheer audacity, MD and Tam had some common traits it seemed like. "Well, it's accuracy is a few miles off." I set Tam
down on the bench and went over to pick up the Mission Teleporter to examine it more closely. "How the heck did you get this thing anyways? It
doesn't... shouldn't exist here."

Tam grinned and reached behind her to pull out the holy shotgun that anybody that ever ran through Striga Isle knew intimately. "Apparently I've still
got some tricks up my sleeve." I sat down on the bench beside her and crossed my legs in a lotus position. Not even realizing that I was shifting, I
melted down to my Nano form (as my mind tagged it) and began letting my nannites go through the Teleportation Machine. Tam's eyes widened as she was drying
her hair. "Whoa, talk about tricks. That's pretty cool..."

I grinned at her without taking my eyes off the machine. My nannites had covered it in a solid silver sheen as they began going trough it finding out how it
worked, what was broken, and starting to do some repairs and upgrades. "So, MD, Tam... are you both in there like RheaSpud here?"

"Well," She tucked into the towel a bit more as she thought about how to explain it. "Sorta kinda. I mean, I'm guessing Spud got two fully
separate minds in there, going by Gtalk?" When I nodded, she shrugged. "Well, there's only one of me in here, but it's got parts of both
personalities."

I nodded absently as the the machine in my lap began to glow slightly. "That does make sense. Tam's a Peacebringer, right?" She nodded.
"Well, that's how combining with a Kheldian to create a Peacebringer works, or so I understand. So to have the same thing happen when another
personality is forced upon you is only logical."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She agreed with a nod.

This time I did look up at her, a smirk on my metallic face. "Besides, you're used to having female voices always speaking out in your head. Shadow,
Fiona, Alice... need I go on? So Chris's mentality is probably quite used to it's so called 'feminine' side. Hence the seamless merge." I
looked down at the form on the floor as Tam made a face at me. "However I don't think Spud here got off quite so easily. When Rhea came... they
didn't merge. Probably couldn't, and considering that Rhea doesn't exactly have a stable mind, that may be for the best. But we're going to
have to figure out how to separate them before Rhea manages to drive Spud as insane as she is."

Tam nodded then looked at me curiously. "What about you? How much of you is Uni and how much is Silver?"

I looked at her steadily. "Physically, 100% Silver. Mentally, 100% Uni. None of Silver's personality made it through whatever happened to us. I just
woke up in my bed this evening from 'pulling a Uni' and didn't even realize anything was wrong until I saw that that everything was so much larger
than it should have been. Let me tell you, a perspective change between a four foot body and a six foot body is huge." Tam had to chuckle at in agreement
as the two of them sat in Spud's garage and waited for him to regain consciousness.

[Matrix Dragon]

(Please note that OM has granted permission to be played as an NPC by Spud, Uni and myself)

***

I had to laugh at that. "I've been there," I admitted as I transformed back to Chris. As a side benefit, the sudden burst of cosmic energy
actually dried me off. And changed my clothes to something more suitable for my larger size... including my favorite jacket. Very curious indeed. Amy glanced
over at me, clearly evaluating me. Grinning, I held out a hand. "Pleasure to meet you Amy," I smiled.

She grinned and shook my hand back. "Good to finally meet you in person," she said. "I'd introduce you to Brian, but as you can see, he...
um, she's a little out of it."

Holding back a laugh, I looked her over. "Yeah, so I can see. Um, I guess I read it wrong in chat. I thought he had Rhea in the back of his head."
Kneeling down, I took a look at Mr Whiskers. A panda? What wasn't how I remembered him from Paragon. Or was that how I imagined him from Paragon? This was
starting to give me a headache.

Amy shrugged. "Well, he was. Then Rhea said he couldn't handle the power to teleport you and... um..." she shrugged. "Science Booster
Costume Change?"

This time I didn't bother holding back the laugh. "Well, I guess I'm grateful for now. But I kinda hope she can reverse it." Amy had to nod
in agreement as I looked around. "So, I've met you, I've met Brian... Where be the Optimal one? I wouldn't mind meeting..." As I worked
out the expression on Amy's face, I found myself resisting the urge to facepalm. "You didn't check, did you?" I asked. Rather then answer,
she bolted out of the room. "Well, I guess it's a very excitable night," I added out loud, before turning back to study Rhea.

That lasted about ten seconds, when Amy called out my name in a worried voice. Swearing lightly, I followed the sound of the voice, soon enough finding myself
upstairs, looking at where Amy was placing a rather dazed looking Nene Romanova on the bed. Blinking, I was suddenly struck by the rather shocking discovery
that Nene, who I saw every day, overseeing PSI's computer hub, was Net Sabre, one of the most powerful Sabres, who trained the other recruits to the
Sabres, had humbled Reichsman and Recluse, and...

For a brief moment, my eyes nearly rolled up in my head and my world spun, before I grabbed at the doorframe to balance myself. "Owww..." I managed,
squeezing the bridge of my nose to ward off a killer headache.

"Amy?" Nene squeaked. "You're, I... Owie..." she said, imitating my pose.

"Ben, that's you, right?" Amy asked gently. "I mean, you're not entirely Nene, right?"

"What the heck kinda question is that?" she said, looking at Amy oddly.

Given the situation, I couldn't resist with the snark. "Well, given you're currently shorter, cuter, and with a touch of added Sabre, it's
only fair to ask."

She turned her attention to with with the wonderfully scornful look I used to imagine her giving Leon and Terrence... or did I remember that? My headache was
coming back again. "And who the flipping heck are you meant to be?" she demanded.

Failing to keep the grin from my face, I couldn't help but bow. "Chris Wood, aka Matrix Dragon, finally meeting you in the flesh for the first time in
close to a decade of friendship," I announced, then spun on the spot, shrinking down into Tamara and my PPD uniform. "Or, you can call me Tamara
Reilly, the incredible Major Starlight," I said with a friendly wink.

Nene stared for a moment. "I'm not crazy, am I?" she asked.

Shrugging, I grinned at her. "Only if the rest of us have gone crazy too. You're my friend and all Miss Romanova, but I'd rather not meet you via
a set of involuntary sex changes and being dunked in a river-"

"That was you being ambitious," Amy pointed out.

That fact was waved off as unimportant to the matter at hand. "Come on downstairs, Spud's passed out in the garage from rampart Rhea outbreak."

Nene blinked, standing up. "Spud's got Rhea in his head?" she said in a tone of utter horror, then paused. "Wait, he's got a voice in
his head with a voice in her head?" she quipped.

A grin formed on my face. "Oh yeah, you're Ben," I commented. "Come on."

***

[Rev Dark]

It could have been worse. It could have been a
lot worse. I consider this an exercise of my gift for understatement. Worse
doesn't really cover it. I briefly reviewed the roster of my toons on Virtue.
Jackie Marie Frost. Being inside Jackie? Well I wouldn't be the
first, or the last, and that thought is enough to bead the brow with sweat. I created Jackie - deliberately - to be the
dream realized and that realization being something of a nightmare. Unless you were Russ Meyer; and perhaps Russ
himself would have been given pause. Mostly to undo his belt.



Sue Nami? Thank you no. I will leave being inside Japanese schoolgirls to the tentacle monsters out there. Ponitus
Pirates? No. Or rather. Arrrggh
no! Bella? Big Momma S? Sen-Sen
Mew-Mew. Ack. Hairball.



It could have been worse. I was still
me.



Sort of.



Almost.



Very nearly.



Well close enough at any rate.



I glanced at my face in the mirror. My face;
perhaps a little harder and more angular, the brows slightly lower. I ignored the QWERTY pattern that chased across my left cheek; the result of having fainted onto my keyboard and remaining there for some
time. My brow furrowed and a part of my mind that had not existed before kicked in.
The indentations faded away, the skin sparkling slightly.



Part of my mind, the part not currently engaged in knocking the divots out of my skin,
raced through what this meant. There was a jingle of tags as Bolo decided that checking up on me was the right thing to
do. I might have fallen into the toilet. Shar-peis are funny that way, they
don't like water, but they are the lifeguards of the canine world. He glanced at me, I glanced at him. He whined slightly and then let out a bark.



"What is it boy?" I asked
him. "Did Timmy fall down the well again? Did you push
him?"



Bolo regarded me with the solemnity that all
Shar-peis have. It makes them look far more insightful and intelligent then they are.
Nothing breaks the illusion more than a pei giving you that look and then licking at their genitals. No one can
maintain the illusion under such circumstances. Even Winston Churchill would have lost mystique if he had been seen
cleaning his personal Isles of Wight with his own tongue; sure he would have gained a whole new mystique, but not one
that would have served him politically.



"Or do you need to take a leak?
Backyard?"



He grinned a wide doggie grin and his curled tail slapped back and forth in an
enthusiastic wag.



That was reassuring; my world had just stepped sideways, but there were some things that
were comfortably normal. As I stepped out of the bathroom, Bolo ran for the stairs, proceeding me down, stopping every
few steps to look back to ensure that I was indeed the door opening messiah of his bladder salvation.



I let him out the back door. As he scouted the
area for the best place to unleash his inner flood and perhaps drop a few doggie bombs, I surveyed the living room. We
have a primary décor. Weapons. Several swords on the wall. Several more leaning up against a bookcase. My sword case lying next to the wall where it
would not be casually kicked. My sword case is a soft, padded, travel golf bag.
One of those bags that zip entirely closed. As I tell my students, carry a sword bag, a rifle case, or a bow case, you
can be perceived as a threat. Carry a golf case and the best you can hope for is lame.



I concentrated, the newly active part of my mind responding. My hands filled. The bastard sword appearing in my right hand, the shorter blade in my
right. I frowned. The swords disappeared, replaced by a katana, the razor edge
glistening. With another thought I was holding a bastard sword in my right hand, my left holding a heater
shield. I knew the face would have my heraldic sign. Green and black with a
golden Darwin fish rampant. The shield vanished, but I kept the bastard sword.



Excalibastard was a dual blades/willpower scrapper.



But I am a hell of lot more versatile when it comes to bladed weapons.

[Foxboy]

July 6, 2009, 1:45 am EDT -- Dartmouth-Hitchcock Memorial Hospital, Lebanon, NH

I clutched the attending physician's note in one hand and held up my massively oversized pants with the other as we exited the emergency room. I got the feeling that if my/Logan's folks hadn't taken pictures of the metamorphosis, I wouldn't have even gotten that. Regardless, my/Logan's (I really needed to sort out pronouns between my two lives) father was near apopleptic.

"Goddamn Hospitals!" he groused. "Get brought in by ambulance and hours later the doctors say 'There's nothing wrong with you.'"

"Daddy," I said, using every ounce of Hanover and Hanagawa charm I could muster. "Please calm down. Except for the obvious, I am perfectly healthy." I knew my/Logan's father was a soft touch for the "devoted daughter" bit from Logan's memories. Add a touch of the chakra that I currently had in abundance for some reason, shaped into a genjutsu, and I was able to get him calm enough that we wouldn't have to turn right around and bring him to the emergency room. "Besides, there are a lot of idiots who didn't follow basic fireworks safety in there. Burns and missing extremities trump 'weird but healthy.'" Behind us, Mother/Mom was pensive, clutching the digital camera and thinking over what had happened.

We got to the car and I slid into the driver's seat, as Daddy/Dad was looking tired. I didn't expect to get pulled over so the little detail of my face not matching my license shouldn't be a problem. I felt a little giddy as the part of me that was Misty Hanover thrilled that I knew how to drive a car. An uneventful five minute drive later, and we arrived home.

I bundled my/Logan's parents off to bed, claiming I was too keyed up and energetic to go to bed myself. It was even true. Once they'd gone upstairs, I turned to the computers in the living room. They were both running their screen savers, Daddy/Dad's computer with a simulated aurora borealis, the laptop that Logan had been playing Cities on shuffling through random anime and comic book images. I thought for a minute and decided to claim joint ownership between my halves for most things if only to spare myself the strain of differentiating between sets of parents unless I should happen to run into Misty's, unlikely as that was.

I cleaned up the mess the paramedics had made dragging me out of the house, and moved the mouse attached to the laptop. The screen saver closed, revealing the log-in screen for City of Villains. I quickly closed the program and brought up my browser. I had some things to do, because if what happened to me had happened to everyone else playing the game, then there had to be some info put into the Hanagawa/Hanover email drops. And a few tentative posts on the DW Forums.

After discovering they didn't yet exist in this reality, I replaced the Rogue Isles and New Jersey email drops. Both of them were distinct "personae," loosely based on stereotypical email accounts for a Soccer Mom and a Grandmother, respectively. I made sure to put them up on the web for long enough for spammer spiders to get a hold of them, and rerouted some of Daddy's joke emails to them, hopefully adding verisimilitude. I then proceeded to create the coded messages for Valles/Cousin Sachie by creating "unsendable" messages and leaving the system error messages in the inbox. The specific errors would tell anyone with Hanagawa or Hanover training my location and that I needed to be contacted and how to contact me. Intense kunoichi training in this day and age had to include computer operation, after all.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[Sofaspud]

July 5, 2009, 11:53 PM Pacific

(Wake up, Rhea!)

I woke, startled, as Whiskers' voice echoed insistently in my head. His tone was urgent, worried; I held still and cracked one eye, trying to see what was
going on.

From my current vantage point... not much, unless you count gritty concrete as Truly Happening. (Looks like a warehouse. What hit us?) I asked the furry one,
listening carefully for the sounds of footsteps or breathing, something that would tell me where the enemies were. If I got back up now, they might knock me
back down again before Whiskers and I could take them out; I had to know where they were before I risked letting them know I was still alive.

And why hadn't medicom kicked in?

(Pay attention, girl!)

Whiskers didn't usually sound that fierce.

"Spud?"

That voice. It had a faint accent, but I knew it all the same. What was --

"Anyone get the number of that truck?"

-- wait, what?! My voice didn't sound like that!

Memory flooded back as Spud pushed my body up off the cold concrete floor of the warehouse -- er, his garage -- and regarded Major Starlight sourly.
"Great. You're here, so I'm either dreaming or this nightmare is real."

Tam chuckled. "Nice to meet you too, Brian."

"Eeeep!" Yeah, that was my belated contribution. Well, what would you do if some strange guy was using your vocal cords?

"Reboot complete, welcome back," Silver snarked. She cocked her metallic head at me (us?). "Huh. Well, there's something interesting.
Rhea's got Spud's eyes."

Tam nodded. "And judging by the facial expressions, one of them is right royally pissed off, the other confused as hell."

"Thanks, guys," Spud said, and I shuddered. "You always know just the right things to say."

"What are friends for?" said a new voice, and I spun my head to face the doorway. A cute redhead, a bit on the short side (but who am I to complain
about that, I mean, Terrence and Lisa, right? It's not my fault I'm built like an Amazon) was just entering, a tray with mugs on it
balanced on her hand. I recognized her, but the name was escaping me. Neigh? Why was a horse coming to mind? She didn't look anything like a horse...

(It's Nene, Rhea. She's the one who teases Terr all the time?)

Oh, right.

"Nene!" I cried, nearly choking as Spud tried to say "Ben!" at the same time.

After receiving a sour look from my body-partner (and don't ask me how I saw it, because I didn't, it just was), Spud continued, "Sooo...
is it Miss Romanova, hacker supreme and Mistress of Snark? Or my roommate Ben, he of the Logical Conclusion?"

Nene shrugged. "Yes?"

"Great," Tam chimed in. "It's Super-Nene, now with Logic Action."

I scooped Mr. Whiskers up off the floor -- he doesn't like being cold -- and retrieved my sewing kit from my hidden belt compartment. His disguise
wasn't as good as his regular look, and if he was going to ride my shoulder he'd need to have his magnetic footsies attached. Fortunately, I keep
spares on hand -- they're right there next to his Angry Eyes, in the little slot next to my Mentos.

I winced as I stuck my finger with the needle. Spud kept trying to raise our head to look at the others in the room, and it was distracting me. "Stop
it!" I hissed at him.

Stubborn jerk. I needed to make sure Whiskers was okay; I could tell I was dangerously close to losing it again, and Mr. Whiskers doesn't like that. More
importantly, nothing around me likes that. This place wasn't shielded like Lisa's apartment; if I accidentally boosted Whisker's powers by getting
all angry and upset and stuff, I'd probably nuke Spud's house.

He might deserve it, but still... I didn't think it was a very heroic thing to do. Calm. Cheerful. C'mon, Rhea.

Silver knelt down behind me and squeezed my shoulders. It helped. I didn't know her very well -- she didn't have much need for my and Whiskers'
services on patrol, and the only mission I could recall running with her was when we went back in time to beat up some Romans once -- but I'd seen her
around the base a few times. The Legendary base had a wonderful little cafe-slash-coffee bar, which was well-liked by all the various groups who had access to
our domain. Silver was no exception. So I knew her, I just didn't know her well.

Right now, something familiar was enough. My hands settled down -- or maybe Spud stopped trying to mess me up, I don't know -- and I got the magnetic
clasps attached to Whisker's disguise in a few quick stitches. I put the kit away and settled Whiskers on my shoulder where he belonged and suddenly felt
a lot better. I looked up.

Everyone was regarding me with the sort of look one reserves for the terminally deranged -- the look that says they're asking themselves, "Is she
gonna blow?"

I hate that.

Calm, cheerful.

(You can do it, Rhea.)

Chipper. Cheerful. Bunnies puppies balloons and beer. Chocolate. Lisa. These are a few of my fav-o-rite things. When the girl bites, when the guy howls,
when it's fun in bed... Fun times in bed with Lisa and chocolate. Fun times in bed with Lisa and chocolate and Terrence.

I felt my usual smile return and relaxed. Lisa saved the day again and she didn't even know it this time. I giggled, then shook my head at everyone's
puzzled look.

"So!" I said. "What's next?"

"I'd like a psychiatric evaluation, and a cheeseburger. Not necessarily in that order." Spud replied instantly. "And, while we're at
it, I dunno, MY BODY BACK?"

"But this one is so much nicer," I replied, adding a mental raspberry. That cheeseburger sounded good, though. My stomach rumbled.

"She's got you there, Spud," Tam put in, chuckling.

"Oh, hah, hah," Spud grumbled.

"How did you do that, anyway?" Silver asked quietly. I shrugged and leaned back against her familiar presence. Her metallic skin wasn't as hard
as I expected, nor as cold to the touch. It was more like leaning against Terrence -- firm, unyielding, but still human, even if it did shrug off hurled
boulders like so much confetti. Mr. Whiskers had taught me how to do that, sure, but it tookconcentration and energy, so I didn't use the ability most of
the time. And with me it was a field, not ... whatever it was Terr did.

I'd tried asking him once, but his explanation made no sense, so I chalked it up to the same thing that Whiskers uses. Magic.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I think Whiskers forced enough radiation into his body to make it change, maybe."

"Rhea," Spud said in a pained tone. I was trying really really hard to get used to my mouth working on its own like this, but it was creepy.
"Radiation Doesn't Work That Way."

I swear, that's how he said it -- with the caps and everything. The mental image that came to mind was a very aggrieved-looking Spud pointing at some sort
of website.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I know." I grinned up at their faces. "It's how Terr survives me and Lisa night after night. Magic
radiation, ooOOoh!" I waggled my fingers in the air. "Watch out, evildoers, here come the MAGIC RADS!"

"C'mon, be serious."

"I am serious," I replied. "Look, it's magic, okay? I can't explain it. Mr. Whiskers says it's in the parts we
aren't meant to understand, and I believe him. So, magic."

"She's right," Nene said. "Look, there's no way, physically speaking, Spud can turn into that. Same height, but the mass
differential... sorry, Spud."

Spud waved my hand in dismissal. "I'm not blind, I know I'm built like a Mack truck, while Rhea's more like a Corvette."

"(Curve-ette)," Tam whispered, to which I giggled.

"But can you change back?" Silver pressed.

(Yes, we can... but not right away. You need to rest, regain some strength first.)

"Mr. Whiskers says yes," I replied.

"Oh good NOW PLEASE," Spud cut in.

"-- but I can't do it yet. I'm low on energy."

"Oh, great, just great," Spud muttered.

"Okay then," Nene said. "So that's one problem solved. What's next?"

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs

[ECSNorway]

I woke up at 5 the next morning feeling decidedly confused. The walk hadn't burned off a lot of energy - which was nice, considering that the old me would've been winded after a tenth of the five miles I put in and dead on his feet by the end of the first mile. It had given me some time to think, though, and I was fairly sure that what I really needed was... More time to think.

I'd been fairly confused when it happened. I remembered hugging Sacchan and Misty when Romulus went down. I remembered making plans with them to celebrate afterwards -- there was a new restaurant/spa in St Martial that Misty had suggested. I also remembered hoping that it would be over quickly because I had to work the next day, and being annoyed because my ankle was bothering me again, and being honked off at myself for not bothering to clean up the mess that was my little bachelor pad for umpteen days running. I remembered the years of training, leaving Lightning Country for the outside world, Paragon City, the Rogue Isles... Years of working tech support and playing with computers, daydreaming of some sort of more adventurous life...

Wait. Rewind there a second. ... Because I had to work the next day - that's TODAY!

Right. Hurry through breakfast, pick out some decent clothes... Never mind. The 'blues brothers' suit would do, I could just take off the tie. It wasn't like I wouldn't use a henge anyway... And then I remembered one of the other techniques I'd learned in that non-existent ninja village. A kage-bunshin was set to cleaning the place up while I checked the Hanagawa email drops, found a note from Misty and chuckled - apparently I'd missed some commotion. Too bad Fox hadn't been playing In-chan or Nogi, but Misty was cute, and fun... Hmm.

I had already decided, by this point, that I didn't want to abandon my original identity. It wasn't as if I was the kind of uncaring bastard who'd just abandon her family... And thankfully my personality wasn't so different from my own that I'd be twisted out of shape about it. I hoped.

Twenty minutes' drive and another kage-bunshin later - this one with an appropriate henge applied - I had the time I needed to think. I also had my laptop and a wireless hotspot (amusingly enough, at the local gaming store where I was, in Chris's persona, a regular customer. They didn't know Misao from Eve, though... But, hey, cute girl, game store, I'll be fine. For now.

Until I figure out what I'm going to do with my suddenly double life.

[[Comment: Dark Armor secondary. "Kagetsuki" (tr: 'Shadow-Moon'). Yes, Misao uses shadow-based techniques, like the Nara clan in Konoha. And yes, one of those is Kage Bunshin. If Ebisu can keep up a dozen long enough to hunt down Naruto, then Misao-me can keep up two long enough to clean an apartment and get through a work-day doing tech support. Especially if she doesn't expect to need chakra for much else.]
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.

[Dragonflight]

I hate phones.

It's not the telemarketers (which I get), or the spam calls (which I also get), it's how you can pick up a phone, intending to call something specific,
and wind up somewhere totally else if you're not paying attention.

After getting the transformation under control a lot faster than I thought I could, I surfed around a bit to see if any of the other people on Virtue had
similar issues. Aside from the game itself, the only other place I run into most of them is...

"Oh crap," I muttered. "Forgot to update the game."

I went over to the Chrono site and updated the next round of combat. While there, I looked around for hints the others had gone through any traumatic changes.
Feeling a little exposed, I opened a thread and posted, "Virtue WTF?" and asked who'd had connect issues that night. I figured that was obscure
enough it wouldn't mean anything if they hadn't been affected, but direct enough to help me out if the others had been affected.

Then I made the mistake of going back to the CBC news site. In local news it talked about a minor little fracas involving a corner store and a couple of thugs
with knives. No one injured, police investigating.

While reading this, I'd found myself reaching for the phone and dialing a number I could have recited from memory. Which was good, because SHIELD agents
weren't allowed to commit local contact numbers to...

Crap.

I put the phone down and ran my hands through my hair in aggravation. I knew none of that was real. Which meant I had to rely on what was proven to work. Go to
the site, pull up the police report on the radio's holo emitter and see if I could take the mission or if another had beaten me to it...

Crap.

The sensible thing to do was to do nothing. I had once had a police friend in the RCMP who'd told me that 95% of
all cases were solved because criminals were stupid. So I had no reason to believe a couple of thugs would last very
long on the lam before they did something to trip them up and wound up behind bars. And I had no business playing
heroine, especially since I had no real experience using my powers!

That stopped me for a long moment. A minute later, I was heading out the door.

There's a long divider behind the community, acting as a partial sonic barrier for the train tracks behind them. It also means there's this straight
stretch for hundreds of meters running right through the community that no one can see into. Perfect for a bit of practice. I even knew where the local kids
slipped through when they thought no one was watching.

Once on the other side, I concentrated. Pulling up Foxfire's training in Paragon, I recalled how they'd explained energy worked. Flow from the center
of the being, out to the fingertips. It's no coincidence a lot of blasters use throwing motions, because that's how they're taught to see the power
flow coming from them. Drawing on the same analogy, I concentrated on throwing the energy.

Crackling light formed around my fingertips, and a small bolt of electrical power jumped away from my hand and down the track. Unfortunately the train track
was - of course - metal, and the bolt arced down to that. It grounded, and raced away at near the speed of light. There was a quiet crack sound that echoed down the tracks, causing me to jump with embarrassment and duck into the treeline. The local kids played
with fireworks all the time, hopefully they'd think that was all it was. But it was still embarrassing. "Stupid, stupid... Next time don't shoot
at the giant metal rail on the ground!"

I also realized as my hair caught on the branches that I'd reverted to Kara at some point during all this. Possibly during the whole practice session. I
stopped when I felt the painful tugging, and spent the next ten minutes carefully teasing my hair free of the branches. "How to girls manage this stuff?" I cleared it from the branches, ignoring the small twigs I could still feel in the hair. "Yuck! This
is so gross!" I concentrated and became myself again. Of course, the other shoe fell at that point. While I'd
been practicing, I'd been unconsciously hitching my shorts up periodically. When I stopped to concentrate... well... Kara was just way too small for the
shorts. So I reverted just in time to feel my shorts fall around my ankles.

I caught myself on a tree and looked down. With massive dignity, I paused, pulled my shorts back up, and tucked everything back in. "I've got to find something to wear as Kara." A thought struck me at that point. I reached into my memories of Paragon, remembering
how the GIFT trainer had explained we used the basic equipment every super was issued upon registration. Focusing, I reached for an invisible point just to my
left and twisted. Moments later, I was wearing a small computing device attached to my left arm. Except that when I
did that, I'd reverted to Kara again, and my shorts were down around my ankles again.

"Crap."

Hitching the rebellious clothing back up, I considered the device. It was pretty simplistic. I was told that some people added to it over time. At the moment,
it contained my changes of costume (I only had the one. I'd been able to afford one decent outfit at Icon's, and that one only because of a gift
certificate I'd gotten in a limited-run print of the Paragon Times. Not being an idiot, I'd opted for actual armored cloth, thank you...

"Crap." Yes, I was saying that a lot. It bore repeating, especially when my memories jumped out and dogpiled me the way they'd been doing the
last few days. Apparently my Paragon alter ego hadn't liked getting shot at any more than I did. So her suit had armor in it. Experimentally, I pulled up
the graphic of her outfit, and pressed the button.

A flare of energy around me coalesced into a new outfit. Suddenly I felt like I was actually decently clothed. The bodysuit was black with dark blue lightning
bolt designs on it. I had a utility belt literally covered with pouches, and what looked like a small throatmike on
the side. Lifting it off of the belt, I fitted it to my right ear, the way I had been taught. Pressing the button did two things. First, the almost-invisible
mike connected to the Paragon City police network, and through that to the remote Cell network, controlled through the data handler on my left arm. The system
also powered up a very tiny monocular lens which literally rezzed into existence over my right eye. But it was so small that if you didn't know it was
there, you'd never see it. Because I was new at this, mine was pretty basic, and had none of the whistles and bells the more expensive ones had. Mine just
pulled ID's from the police database and let me identify known perps on sight. Made it real easy to tell normal citizens apart from known felons. I mean,
aside from the ones in robes, or the demons stomping around Perez Park half the time...

"Bloody hell," I muttered, stopping that chain of thought. The idea that the auto-target function in the game had a real-world analogue hadn't
even occurred to me. But what the hell. This was all coming at me so fast, I figured I'd just run with it.At that point, I paused. In the game, I'd
been on so long I had tons of Veteran Rewards. I had purchased the upgrade packs, and had a lot of extra features on my character. Did Foxfire have any
memories of being given any early powerups?

The moment I considered that, I remembered being taken into the back room. As a visiting super from another country, they wanted me to of course give the best
impression of my work in Paragon back at home. So they let me equp myself with a lot of extra stuff. The blackwand, which drew on the Netherworld for its scary
power. A VIP pass to Pocket D, the dance club in another dimension. A variety of defensive augmentations. A simple holographic emitter to create 'speed
lines' when I ran (that was apparently an over-the-counter item someone had knocked off a couple years ago that really hit it big.) And the Nemesis Staff.

A thoughtful look on my face, I reached down with my third finger to tap the concealed button in the lower palm. With a glittering flash, the Nem staff
appeared in my hand. I almost dropped it. The thing weighed a good twenty pounds, and seemed to be made of equal parts brass and bronze. It had the two cogs
inside the open cogwheel, and everything. It just wasn't spinning. I recalled hearing from my handler in the Phalanx that it was steam-powered, using a
small device concealed in the upper grip. I grinned when I recalled that.

Paragon Kara wouldn't have known it, but the staff was clearly some kind of two-stroke Stirling engine. One of those wonderful inventions that comes along
after the complicated invention, the Stirling motor could also be called a heat engine, in that the gases that made it
work never left the engine. It ran entirely on external heat sources. The technology had been invented in the early 1800's, so it even fit, that the
Prussian Prince of Automation had found a way to build an entire army on the Stirling heat engine. If I remembered correctly, the device generated electricity
which the complicated focusing elements in the large cog then converted into kinetic blasts. Pure force, which would knock any random junk or average person
away with massive force. And I could generate electricity. Grinning, I concentrated on drawing the power out again. I felt...something, traveling from my arm out to my hand.

And then the cogs began to spin. They picked up speed until they were moving at their regular pace, electricity crackling around the inside of the cog
mechanism. "Wow," I muttered to myself, ignoring how high-pitched my voice sounded. "A CoH weapon that actually works!"

I watched it for a long few minutes before something else occurred to me. Carefully letting the energy stop flowing, I waited until the staff spun down and
tapped that concealed button again. It vanished, and I tapped the costume button on the computer (I didn't want to transform back and realize I
couldn't use the costume change thingie. Very embarrassing to walk around in the bodysuit in public. Much more mortifying to do it as a guy.) Then I
switched back.

I made my way back to the house, already planning what I would do next. I had to try to draw out how the Nem Staff was put together. If I ever had to
fix this thing, I'd need to know what parts I needed. And if it had been invented on Eighteenth century tech, it
shouldn't be too difficult...
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.

[firvulag]

There is a song on Dennis Leary's album "No Cure for Cancer", 'The Voices in My Head'. It's not quite as funny now as it used to be. Sitting there in my apartment, trying to figure
out what the hell had happened and what I was going to do, I had voices in my head. The most obvious, and obnoxious was the source of Naptha's powers. It
didn't communicate in words so much as in impulses and overwhelming emotions, well one emotion anyway.

The other was a thin, faint voice. All that remained of Alicia Lane, after she had been consumed be the spirit. She'd been in a bad place when she
encountered it, and it had gotten worse from there as she had attempted to meet out vengeance on those whom she'd felt had wronged her. It hadn't
worked out very well, leading her to the Zig and ultimately into Recluse's twisted little Destined Ones operation.

I'd spent much of my time, sitting there, back against the wall, attempting to get some control over the spirit. It wanted revenge, it wanted bloody,
violent retribution. And it wanted it for every little thing. The pigeons that have been attempting to colonize my balcony, the people on my floor who
couldn't figure out how the garbage room worked. I had to fight down my urge to lay a trap for the garbage people, to hunt them down to their apartment
and...

I'm going to have to visit home depot for some spackle to cover up the dent my head's made in the wall.

I'd fought the spirit back, barely. I smashed it with the damage it had done to Alicia's life. It might have gotten revenge on some of the people
who'd wronged her, but it had done so excessively. She'd lost her position at the university but the spirit had ruined any chance of ever finishing
her degree or working in her field. Her boyfriend had dumped her, but the spirit had destroyed her hopes of ever finding a working, healthy relationship. I
kept at it, drawing the thin, strained memories of her hopes and dreams out of Alicia and hammering the spirit with them.

It couldn't change, not fundamentally, and it couldn't really try to get vengeance on itself, but maybe I could teach it some kind of proportionality.
Maybe Alicia could go back to being a person at some point, not just a bunch of twisted, painful memories.

It was about four in the morning when I finally felt I had enough control to dare venture out. I'd struggled back into Naptha's outfit, which took
some doing. I'd probably have to get a bottle or two of baby powder if I was going to be putting this thing on with out using the costume crystal. To say
nothing of all the buckles, I'd chosen the fetish wear again why? ... Don't answer that.

I didn't really have any idea how Naptha's ability to hide works, but work it does. I faded, becoming little more than a faint shadow moving in the
room. I spent some time looking at not very much in the mirror before dropping my Fedora on my head and slipping out the door and down the stairs.

The stairs closest to my apartment lead to the back door of the building, which while next to the dumpsters as required by cliche, wasn't quite as dark as
I'd have liked. But there wasn't anyone around, and I reminded myself, I was mostly invisible anyway. Just beyond the dumpsters is the building's
parking garage, one story of parking, with a one story wall round the rooftop spaces. I walked around to the east side, onto the grass, and rubbed my palms
together. The spines were real, the healing was real, there was no reason for the travel powers not to be either.

Taking a deep breath I leapt. It didn't get me as high as Super Jump had in game, but then I'd never seen Naptha as being able to do exactly that. I
came level with the top of the wall and realised that I wasn't moving forward enough to clear. I reached out, grabbed the concrete and pivoted. It
wasn't exactly a proper dismount, but I'd live with it. Especially since I'd never been able to do that before.

Turning to face the apartment building I began to run. It took little more than an exaggerated step to get me to the top of the wall, and then I was in the
air. I crossed the space between the garage and the bike room that stuck out off the back of the building, and landed running. My next jump brought me up to
a third floor balcony, and I bounced off of it, going higher. Finally I landed on my own balcony, ten stories up. I was still hidden so the bloody pigeon
sitting on my railing didn't notice me perched on the railing beside it.

My new found restraint was still holding, I sent it on it's way only missing a few feathers. Of course I was in a good mood. This parkour stuff was going
to be fun.

I let myself back in and headed for the bathroom. It'd been a long night and a shower would feel good. I passed my computer on the way, not hard for an
apartment as small as mine and realized it was still on. Feeling curious I moved the mouse and waited as the CRT came back to life. CoH was no longer
running, unsurprisingly, there was a 'this program has done something stupid, want to tell Microsoft?' dialog box up for it though. And Firefox still
had the Drunkards Walk forums open in the background.

That started me thinking. I knew there'd been an ITF I'd missed going on at the time. Atl had grabbed the last spot not long before I'd logged
in. It couldn't have just been me could it?

Drunkard's Walk Forums > The Legendary > So... Anything unusual happen on the ITF?

---

Firvulag

(07/06/09 04:22 AM)

---

What the title says.

--

#38. PPD web grenade gunk is impossible to get off the bottom of your boots.

----50 Things Hexane has learned since joining the Infamous

---

[Logan Darklighter]

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout!

I'd always taken that phrase from a Heinlein novel as saying, "Get it out of your system so you can THINK!"

Well I did a little bit of that. Quietly. With discretion...

"FUCK ME!!! Jesus Christ?!! What the hell?"

...Or not.

I calmed right the hell down though, when I heard a loud crack and brought my hand up to see that I'd snapped off a corner of the marble sink fixture. I
looked at that piece of stone in my hand for a long long moment. Then I laid it on the shelf above the toilet and deliberately walked back into my room and sat
down in front of my computer. Not to do anything specific, but just to THINK. Think it through.

I tuned out the world and tried to listen to everything my new body was trying to tell me. I looked at the HUD in my field of view. I found I had an intrinsic
understanding of what it all meant. I ran a complete diagnostic. I learned (or relearned) my specs.

I found to my astonishment that I could think in a clearer fashion. I had a constant sense of the time, both from the obvious display that could be called up
in my HUD, but also an intrinsic -sense- of time. I felt that I might be able to organize and multitask far better than I ever had. Far from disturbing, once I
got used to the difference, it was like a cloud being lifted from my mind.

Testing my senses I found that in most ways they were better than my originals. Much better. I used to need glasses or contacts and had astigmatism. My sight
now had crystal clear focus and I could use telescopic or microscopic zooms. My hearing was clearer. I used to have trouble picking out distinct noises from
background sounds. Now, just sitting there and listening, I could hear the hum of the air-conditioner outside, and under that I could hear the distant sounds
of engine noises on the road and even out on the freeway. And even under that I could hear the sounds of the tires of the big rigs as they passed a couple of
miles away. And I could even hear the hum of the alternating current as it was stepped down by the transformer between the wall socket and my speaker units for
the computer.

I had a sense of smell, but it was perhaps only just a little sharper than before. I picked up my can of soda and experimentally took a sip. I could taste it.
I was glad I could taste things still. I knew C8 didn't need food in the normal sense, but could eat in small amounts. And so could I, apparently.

(Speaking of a sense of smell. One of the first things that assaulted me was the burnt smell coming from my bed. Apparently whatever process my body had gone
through ultimately put out a LOT of heat. The sheets had been charred brown and the foam between the cover and the mattress had an approximately man-shaped
impression burned into it that was still smouldering.)

My sense of touch at first seemed a bit dull, then I realized I was "wearing" the equivelant of gloves. And I remembered from concept that I should
be able to shift my form.

As it turned out, my shapeshifting abilities more varied than I expected.

My basic android endoskeleton was more or less static, though the skeletal arrangement could be modified somewhat. I could compress my height down to just
under 5 feet by compressing most of the long bones and spinal elements, or telescope them and increase my height to over 7 feet. I could also expand some
elements in a horizontal direction, like the shoulders and pelvis. But all of that was purely mechanical. No actual restructuring or nano-morphing was involved
in that.

Surrounding the endoskeleton, power core and pseudo-muscles was a thin layer of nano-machines and raw materials. Mostly in the form of various carbons and
plastics. If given no configuration setting, I guessed that I would have looked much like a store mannequin.

My set default form was the one I was the most familiar with. The one that looked the most like the old 60s anime. But there were others. In my memory there
were at least 5 other variations on that basic theme, and several pre-sets for "civilian" attire and appearance. Apparently I could create others.
But I couldn't just do it "on-the-fly". I had to have good reference and time to set it up in memory.

All of this self-discovery took place in under a minute. And completely internally. Once I sat down, I did not move until I was ready to move. It took place
entirely within the confines of my head. It was like I was opening up schematics and watching everything unfold in virtual space. By the end of the process I
knew my new body better than I knew my old one.

And I did not miss my old one. I'd allowed myself to get out of shape. I hadn't been morbidly obese, but I was by any objective standard, fat. Not
unrecoverably so, but I had been daunted by the thought of how much work it would take to get back into shape.

Now I didn't have that problem. I was much stronger and faster - MUCH faster - than any human being. I wondered just how much faster. I'd have to test
that soon.

Ironically, my actual mass had remained the same. Though my body looked whipcord thin now, I still weighed close to 300 pounds. I guessed that whatever process
had changed me had used my bodymass as raw material. That my bed had nearly gone up in flames was a testament to how much energy had been used to do so.

So I knew what I now was.

But.... What had happened?

I opened my eyes. The screen of my computer looked normal now. There was no indication that it had ever been anything but what it had always been.

Going back over the events of the evening just before the change, I remembered others noticing strange behavior from the game. It seemed likely that I was not
the only one affected.

My computer somehow had been turned off. I didn't remember doing so. But I hoped it would start again. Turning the computer on and rebooting, the system
seemed alright. It ran a disc check as if it had suffered a power failure, but other than that, came up normally. (it didn't escape my sense of irony that
I was now a FAR more sophisticated hardware platform than the machine I was using)

I brought up Firefox and checked the City of Heroes boards. But there didn't seem to be any posts of someone claiming they'd become their character.
Based on the time, maybe it was simply too soon. I could check back later.

So. What to do? First off, I thought of the shapeshifting. Could I manage to duplicate my old human form? It would be necessary for identification purposes.

I checked my digital photographs stored in my documents folder on the hard drive. Some of them had shots of me taken by others. Not many, but there were a few
key shots. Most older than 5 years ago. But that was fine with me. I was going to make a few "tweaks" anyway.

Some time later, after copying the pictures over and comparing them with my own sense of what I had looked like, I crafted an appearance that would be very
very close to my previous appearance. I'd darkened my hair and put back in the copper highlights that used to be there in my youth. My waistline was still
wide. But not as wide as it had been. My pants would fit slightly loose on me (should I actually pick up a pair from the floor and try them on.)

I dug out the full length mirror from the closet, walked into the living room and set it up. Then, I shifted over. My body expanded in certain directions and I
could feel my face morph. The helmet split apart and differentiated itself into dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of separate elements as my hair formed
and the color came in. My "tights" became my usual ensemble of black dockers and T-shirt. (I'd left the big number 8 on the T-shirt, though. It
appealed to my sense of humor. Hey, I'm an old school anime fan and that's how Gatchaman did it!) My boots became sneakers and socks. And the gloves
with their combat padding melted back into hands.

I touched my face and then the mirror. Yes, my sense of touch was fully human.

Although, there was a slight problem I noticed when I looked closely at my fingertips. No fingerprints.

I willed some more detail into my hands and fingers based on my memory of them. But I knew they wouldn't stand up to inquiry. How the hell was I supposed
to remember what my fingerprints looked like anyway?

But overall, not bad. After a few weeks I could afford to trim myself up even more. For now I would at least match the picture on my drivers license.

And now the second big order of business. If I didn't know any better, I'd say my adrenaline was pumping at the thought.

I picked up my keys and wallet and locked the house, then got in my Explorer and turned the engine over. I drove the 5 miles over to the local airport where my
dad kept the Cessna and parked in the main parking lot next to the restaurant (currently closed for business. The current economy wasn't friendly to out of
the way restaurants that people didn't know about. Shame, that.). I left the keys and wallet under the floor mat and locked the car, knowing I could get
back in with the keypad combination on the drivers side.

Then I walked out to the flightline, keeping my senses alert. No one was within several hundred yards of me. I morphed to my default form as I reached the
taxiway.

"Right, then." I said to myself, then, and mimicing Adam from Mythbusters, I added, "this one's for distance, and for glory!"

I started running towards the northern end of the runway, and started eating up bigger and bigger stretches of pavement each time my feet left the ground. I
felt light, almost weightless. Powerful. By my internal speedometer, I was topping 100 MPH by the time I put on the brakes and skidded sideways like a skiier
to the end of the runway.

Apparently mass and momentum still had some grip on me. More so than the game portrayed. I had leaned further and further forward as I accelerated. And the
game certainly did not show what it took to -slow down- either! I figured that I could compensate for that, though.

Turning around, I started back the other way, this time with the full length of the runway ahead of me. Quickly topping my previous speed before the halfway
mark and still accelerating, I confirmed for myself that the artificial limit on speed in the game no longer applied!

So what -was- my top limit? As I continued toward the end of the runway. I realized I didn't want to stop and I didn't HAVE to stop if I did this
right. I angled to the left and LEAPED...

"Oh Holy SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT......!!! Maybethiswasn'ta good ideaaaaaaaaa!"

I came down in the center lane of the road that ran parallel to the airport, and my legs actually TOOK the shock and I bounded back up again in a shallower
leap that took me further down the road, and then I gained more control on the second bounce before finding my pace and settling back into a run, screaming and
then laughing madly as I blew through the light just before the freeway and leaped again straight from the road up onto the overpass and then angling left onto
the Eastbound lanes of Interstate 20.

Then I REALLY opened it up.

[Niteflier]

"Thank you, Colonel Bird." My smile is a bit strained; after all, its not every day that you get to sit down to lunch with the commander of your local Air Force base, even if you used to work there.

"Its quite all right, ah, Mr. Hyman." He looks me over cautiously. I don't really blame him. I had fainted again at home, only to wake up at the base hospital with my wife looking quite harried by my bedside. Between this point and that, I had learned several things: my sub-pocket was still active, and holding a change of clothes suitable for my current form, as well as all the 'In-game' temp powers Brahela had possessed, her costume change crystal, and all three sets of Paragon City IDs; I was, physically, Elizabeth Glorien Jr. in all ways that I could grasp, and had all of her memories and no little bit of her personality; and finally, there was apparently Big Trouble in Little Virtue, if the Colonel's Aura was to be believed.

Bird continued: "We all currently have many questions in regards to what happened to you, and while no few people are scratching their heads about what is going on, I think I can at least bring you up to speed on the official word" He sat back in his chair, his Aura turning pensive. "Last evening the game you were playing, City of Heroes, yes? One server in particular developed a fault. From the reports that we're getting across the States and beyond, you aren't alone in your problem." He shifted back and sighed. "While you were the first to be brought to our attention, and have thus been labeled "Case Zero", it is believed currently that a great deal of the people from that server, if in fact not all of them, have altered as you have. There has already been several cases of violence and criminal activity that is suspected to have been accomplished by these "Virtues"."

I nodded, still feeling a bit shell shocked. "At least I'm not alone, then. But I'm still a bit confused at what you invited me and my wife here for, because it was the day off for most of the military." I finished with a smile, hoping to get to the point of this fast.

The commander smirked at this. "True, but that's going to change. The official political situation is still unchanged, but the military and the DoHS is already working on a few scenarios, from each and every one of you going out of control, to proliferation of 'Superbeings' from this point. From you, though, we're wanting one particular thing." He smiled fully, and explained.

I stared at him. "You want me to be the Government's Liaison to all Virtues?!?"

[dark seraph]

Sera slumped into her computer chair and ran her fingers through her hair, what day. She mused to her self. After finally being let out of the hospital, after god knows how many tests, she had gone
home, but instead of walk home or calling for a lift, she decided it would be more fun to fly… well, it had been more fun, but that wasn't the point. The
point was that she had blown all chances of keeping her change as much a secret as possible, much to her family's amusement.

Her family…. God bless them, after the initial freak out, they had accepted her, despite her new body, she was still their son… er daughter, sure, she cop some
shit from her sisters… especially over get "suitable" underwear, but all things considered, it could have been worse.

She spun in her chair and clicked her fingers, Magic…. That's was something she was still getting used to, simple spells were getting easier and easier.
She hadn't tried any of her combat spells or even polymorph, she wasn't sure if her body could take the strain or even how long the spell would last.
Sighing she logged into her computer and decided to see if she could contact any one else that had been on when it happened.

A quick glance at her Gtalk list showed that no one was on, she grumbled for a bit, she was hoping at least Chris was on, she tried ringing his Mobile but kept
getting told that it was ether turned off or out of range. Maybe I should log on? Hell it might be a good way to get in
contact with the others. She quickly opened City of heroes and waited for it to set up.

When she finally logged on, she was surprised to find the Virtue sever greyed out, she quit back and forward between the log in screen and sever selection
screen to see if the population would drop… but it didn't. okay, so virtue is maxed out… or down… great, now how do
I get in contact with the others? For a moment she entertained the idea of posting about this on the DW boards, but what would she say. "Hi, did
anyone else become their toon?"

Sighing again, she shut down the computer and decided to try out some off her powers, there was a bit of bush land near by so she wouldn't risk
anyone stumbling across her. She left a note for the rest of the family and headed out. time to see what sort of
mischief I can get up to.

[Dragonflight]

Temptation.

This one concept has been both the cause of Mankind's greatness, and equally the cause of its greatest failures. Temptation takes many forms. Human and
not-so human. Physical and mental. It can encourage us to leap to heights of greatness when the opportunity comes knocking, or it can suggest paths to power
that ignore the needs and feelings of others to satisfy our own base urges. Temptation struck when I was working on the plans for the Nem staff.

I didn't even consider trying to patent the thing. By all rights, NCSoft and Paragon Studios owned all rights to the thing, but if I was actually going to
do what I was half-thinking of doing, I'd need to be able to fix the thing down the road. And as Foxfire, I'd been taught a basic course in weapon
maintenance for all the equipment I'd started with. The Blackwand I left in whatever pocket dimension City of Heroes characters put their stuff... I guess
my stuff, now. I mean, it may be one thing to play a darkforce projector as a game character, but quite another to
have an anti-life energy literally seething at your fingertips...

Suddenly I was a lot happier I hadn't been playing my other favorite character, the dark/dark defender Silhouette.
But anyway...

The phone started ringing as I was carefully sketching what I saw inside the Nem Staff's collectiion chambers. This stuff was amazingly intricate but also
pretty heavy-handed, if that made any sense. Big bulk Rennaissance level technology but packed in very tightly. In some places, I referred to my memories of
classes I'd taken on the Nem staff to fill in the bits I didn't want to tinker with here. (And yeah, the more I did this, the less invasive all these
memories seemed. I should probably have been more concerned about that, but you can only stay paranoid for just so
long before it becomes a permanent state. So I decided to just accept it and run with it.)

When I picked up the phone, I could sense all the electronic activity within the handset. It was a portable, so there was a lot of additional transmission and
amplification technology in it. And I could sense all of it just waiting for me to reach out and close a single connection. I thought about it (and checked the
phone to see if I wanted to answer it), then experimentally willed the connection to close.

The phone switched to answer mode.

Shortly after the disappointing temp agency call, I realized something. A lot of the security technology used in the world is designed to act as a front-end
preventing access to the machinery behind it. ATM's for instance use the card recognition system to prove you are allowed access to the money. But the
money machine itself is actually a separate component. Just make the right connections, and it would spit out every
bill in the hopper, no questions asked. And I'm not exactly rich.

See what I mean about temptation? To my credit, I'd like to say that I eventually turned away from the idea as unworthy of the responsibility the powers
imposed. But while gimmicking an ATM was unethical, I eventually turned my speculation to the slot machines in the Casino de
Hull. By anyone's estimation, slot machines were rigged to begin with. Would that be wrong?

The rest of the afternoon laying out the specs for the Nem Staff passed while I debated the pros and cons of misusing my power. I realized at that point that
the whole idea of good vs. evil wasn't so clearly cut. I eventually decided those ideas were "evil" and I wasn't going to do them. But not
everyone would have so sharply defined a moral compass. And that didn't keep me from trying to come up with other ideas along the way, that I also threw
out.

But damn... I'm pretty sure some of those would have worked...
---
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do.

[Sweno]

Waking up with a hangover was not an entirely uncommon experience, especially on days when I didn't have to go into work the following morning. I realized
something was different when my attempts to hide from the sun by curling back under the sheets failed. I didn't have any sheets to curl back under, and the
floor was nowhere near as comfortable as my bed.

Well there is a first time for everything. My attempts to blearily piece together what had happened last night where brought to an abrupt halt when rubbing my
face produced a soft 'clang'.

I stared at my hand in confusion for a few minutes trying to figure out what was wrong before my brain clued into what I was seeing. Two thoughts chased each
other around in the back of my head; it had to be a glove, because my hand doesn't have seams and hard plates. But it was too small to be a glove, it was
too small to be my hand. I ignored the strange kinesthesia that watching my hand move was giving me and rolled over to look in the mirror on the far wall. The
morning sunlight that had woken me up didn't hide anything. I was sprawled on the floor between my overturned chair and a few days worth of laundry. A body
that I looked strange and familiar at the same time in yesterdays clothes, too tight in some places and far to lose in other. I got up and stumbled over,
unable to stop myself from having a closer look.

My hand was not the only part of me that was different. My face was no longer flesh and bone, but instead metal and ceramic. It looked like something a
deranged swiss watchmaker would come up with. Overlapping panels and meticulous seams to mirror the planes of the human face. It did a disturbingly good job
portraying the mix of wonder, confusion, and fear I was currently experiencing. My hair was several shades lighter, and a now reached the middle of my back.
Once I got past the strangeness of my face the most prominent change came to my attention. My shirt was now tight across my chest, and not because I had
suddenly become Schwarzenegger-like in my physique. In fact I was rather shapely, for a female construct. The shirt came off with surprising ease; I had to
make sure I seeing what I thought I was seeing.

The sight of my bare torso should have made me feel something more than just a... slight engineering curiosity. The fine lines of interlocking ceramic and
metal plates formed curves I knew to be aesthetically pleasing. But I couldn't see the attraction to them myself, and I knew that a short while ago I would
have. The polished brass nipples made a faint 'tok' when I poked at them, but otherwise conveyed no special feeling. A small part of me wondered why
this should be a surprise. I was no Van Rijn, but I was close enough. My place had always been on the battlefield or planning room, not the bedchambers. Even
if Mistress Agatha has built in that option out of a sense of completeness.

My thoughts skittered away from finding out exactly how 'complete' I was. But I already knew, somehow, how everything was put together. Every cog and
wire, every motor and heat sink, every power supply and processing unit, it was all in my head. Every beautiful frightening detail of exactly how I worked.
That I needed to breathe to speak and expel excess heat, but not to live. That at my current operating level I had 8 days 3 hours and 17 minutes before I would
need to recharge my power cells or find a compatible fuel source. That bullets would harm me just as easily now as they did before, I would just take longer to
die.

I also knew that people feared the unknown, be it a spark's monstrous creation or a mechanical construct. This world was not home, where constructs like
myself were expected. Nor was it the Rouge Isles, where machine intelligence had decades of legal precedent and emancipation. No, true artificial intelligence
was just an idea here, and I had no desire to become the first legal test case.

But the fact that I was here sent a surge of excitement through me. Being cast across the dimensions once was a fluke, or at least surviving was. But twice?
Twice was the start of a pattern. And I fully intended to find out exactly how this pattern worked.

Following quickly on excitement's heels was Frustration. Frustration at once again loosing the powerbase I had meticulously constructed. Frustration at
lost resources and contacts. I was once again an unknown. But I could learn from my experience in the Rouge Isles, I was not going to simply go out and take
what I needed. It had been a hard earned lesson, but I understood the benefits of working within the system now. At least until I had gathered the resources to
circumvent it, and protect myself from any retaliation.

Long term planning on open conflict would have to wait though. I needed a better understanding of my situation: Was I alone in crossing over? What kind of
public reaction could I expect? Where could I safely have a base of operations? I wouldn't be able to answer any of those questions by standing around
topless in my apartment. A quick glance at the clock showed I had at least 3 hours before my housemates got back from work, enough time to scavenge what I
could and relocate somewhere safe. First things first; fire off an email to my boss saying that I'm not feeling well and will need to take a few days off.
Next: disassemble my laptop for the wireless card and power supply. It took longer than I had planned to kludge those two bits into a wearable package, but
after two and a half hours I had a relatively small box attached to my hip that could take standard 12 volt and allow me to connect to wireless networks.
Granted, I didn't have to time to build in hardware support for anything above the networking stack, so the rendering of web pages would still have to take
place in my head. A boring and tedious process, but one that could be automated with time and effort.

I stuffed the remaining parts of my laptop in my backpack along with my phone, and began rummaging for clothes. I ended up with a pair of pants that were too
long in the leg, a shirt that was tighter than I liked across the chest, and a pair of shoes that were still a little loose even after tightening the laces as
far as they would go. I finished off the ensemble with a hat and jacket, which didn't do anything about my face, but at least it would make me look
somewhat normal from a distance. Anything else I could come back for later.

I let my hair fall around my face, stuck my hat one my head, and headed out of the house. I knew where I was going, a house about three blocks from where I
was. It had been on the market since the housing collapse and there wasn't anyone currently there. I drove by it every day on my way to work and the big
lockbox attached to the front door was noticeable from the street. I walked around to the back of the house where fewer people would notice me looking in
windows. After a quick glance around to make sure I wasn't being watched I ported the six feet that would land me in the middle of the living room. The
third room I checked upstairs was what I was looking for, an office with small windows and access to the neighbors unsecured wifi. It wasn't perfect, but
it was good enough until I could gather more intel about what was going on. I sat down at the desk and plugged into the wall, giving myself a few minutes to
relax in the warm glow of an external power source.

I ended up spending most of the night browsing rfc-editor.org and taking apart and reassembling the remaining parts of my laptop. But by morning I had a second
brushed metal box attached to my hip running ubuntu. Oh sure it complained about a lack of a sound card, and I couldn't get video to overlay into my field
of view. But firefox rendered web pages just fine and that was all I needed at the moment. I gathered the few remaining useful bits from the laptop and
retreated into the attic, better to be safe than sorry of someone comes to view the house. After plugging myself back in I fired off a full systems diagnostic
and drifted off to sleep.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

[Ransan]

Dawn - July 6, 2009

Le Silve Apartments – Middleton,
WI

 

The first thing Ran noticed as he regained consciousness is that
the world was fuzzy. This in itself was not unusual. It was also damn early,
which was. However, his body was telling him that he wasn’t going back to sleep
anytime soon. Damn, I thought that tea
was decaf.

 

He closed his eyes and did his usual blind groping with his
left hand out to where his nightstand should be, trying to find where his
glasses on the stand.

 

This is where he came to two realizations.

 

One, his nightstand wasn’t there. This was because he had
apparently passed out crosswise on his bed, and his feet were on the floor.

 

Two, his glasses were on his face.

 

The hell??? Ran
sat up and shook his head. Things were still fuzzy. He quickly removed them and
grabbed a corner of the sheet to wipe the lenses.

 

That’s when he realized that the world was now clear - absolutely
crystal clear, for the first time in years. This was puzzling. Ran had been myopic
since he was seven, and even his current lenses didn’t clear every thing up.
But he could see every detail, every nuance of his room, without his glasses
on.

 

He also realized he was swimming in the T-Shirt and jeans he
had on. They were several sizes too large.

 

“What….the…fuck??”

 

Then he realized that the voice he just heard wasn’t his.

 

He threw off the clothes and ran into his bathroom. As soon
as he lights came on, he saw the difference.

 

There, standing in the mirror was a young Asian man in his
late teens. However, he had dark brown hair swept back into a long ponytail and
piercing blue eyes. He was clean shaven and had a wiry muscular tone of someone
who worked out a lot. As he moved, the man in the mirror moved…and that face….Ran
knew that face. He had seen it a hundred times in his head.

 

Ran was staring at Namoru Hayataki, his favorite creation.

“How the HELL did this happen?”

 

[I’d like to know
that myself.]

 

“Wha?” Ran jumped and looked around his bathroom. Whoever
that was just spoke…in his new voice.

 

[Whoa…easy there. You
can’t see me. I’m in your head. You should know, you created me, apparently.]

 

Ran froze. “Nam?”

 

[Yo!]

 

“You’re talking to me. In my head.”

 

[Hai. Last thing I
remember was taking on a council Arch Villian, then I blacked out. When I came
to, I was in here.]

 

“You’re taking this rather well.”

 

[Well, compared to
hell, this is a picnic. I miss Aiko, though. Apparently, she’s fictional, too.]

 

Ran heard a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I’m sorry.
Wait, how did you know?”

 

[It’s a nice place
you keep in here. Lots of masks. I found one of me, put in on for laughs, and
it apparently “broke my fourth wall”. I learned everything about myself.]

 

Ran thought about that. It made sense in a Freudian way. As
a Role Player he has assume the personalities of a lot of people, including
Namoru. He has to think and feel as that character. Like an actor, he has to
don the “mask” of that persona. In the transliteral world of his consciousness,
the masks would be real.

 

 “I’m so sorry.”

 

[Don’t be. You’re an
author, telling a story. Without conflict and suffering, there’s no story. At
least I know you intended to give me my “happily ever after”.]

 

“Good. I was afraid you were going to kick my ass.”

 

[How could I,
Jackass! I’m you now. In a way, I
always was.]

 

“So I’m talking to myself.”

 

[Yeah….uh better not tell
anyone. They’ll lock you away.]

 

“Heh. So what happens now?”

 

[Well, I’ll be around
for bit, and eventually I assume I’ll fade into your subconscious, become one
with you…again. ‘Till then, I better show the ropes. It’s my body you’re in…and
you’re going to take care of this one, or I will
find some way to kick your ass. Got it?]

 

Ran sweatdropped. “Got it.”

 

[Good. Now getcher
ass outside. We got training katas to do.]

 

“Uh. I’m kind of naked.”

 

[Riiight. Put that
bathrobe on.]

 

“I could fit a family of five in that robe”

 

[Heh. Just put it
on.]

 

Ran slipped into the bathrobe. It was a gift from his mom
for his last birthday and now….he had exaggerated when he said he could fit a
family of five in it….but not by much. He looked like a kid in his parents
clothes.

 

[Close your eyes a
moment. Concentrate. Feel that energy? It’s your ki. Now…feel that ki along
your left arm? That huge grouping? That’s your personal storage space. Stick
your hand up your sleeve and reach into that spot…just like that.]

 

Ran was speechless. This was impossible…unbelievable…this
was awesome!

 

[Now, find the
clothing…there you go. And pull it out.]

 

Ran pulled out and looked down to see a pair of black
drawstring pants, a black T-Shirt, a green overtunic, a black belt and a pair
of black tabi boots. The overshirt had a logo, that of the Taoist Taijitu “yin-yang” symbols with a long asian
dragon stretched along the “S” of the symbol it’s arms and legs holding onto
the “pearls” on each side. The back had kanji out it, which to his surprise he could now read. It said “Hayataki School of
Martial Arts.”

 

Ran smiled. He
remembered designing that logo years ago when he first “made” Nam for Base’s NCH game. Quickly, he got dressed, and then
went out into the living room. On a whim, he walked out on the patio, and then leaped
over the rail and out into the grass. “Uh, what do I do now? And how can I read
Japanese?”

 

[I’m you and you’re me, remember? You can do everything I
can. Now! Hayataki school first kata! Begin!]

 

Muscle memory is a beautiful thing. Before Ran even knew he
was doing it, he was halfway through the first kata.

 

Again, Ran took a moment to bask in the sheer level of
awesomeness of being able to do this. He had always dreamed of being a martial
artist, but an accident he had suffered before high school that caused him to
spend two months flat on his back and gained a hundred pounds pretty much put
the kibosh on that. Plus, he just wan’t BUILT for it. Now, he was. Now he can.
It was wonderful. Sheer bliss.

 

[See? You know what I
do. All the forms and techniques.]

 

“So, why-“

 

[Don’t talk…think.
One mind, remember?]

 

So, why didn’t you
just take over. You’re certainly capable of it?

 

[This isn’t my world,
Ran. This is yours. You didn’t ask for this. It’s YOUR life and you deserve to
live it. I’m just your creation. You’re like a father to me, in a way, and I
couldn’t do that to family.]

 

Hey! I ain’t nothin’
like your old man!

 

Ran could hear snickering in his head. [No….no you ain’t. You’re like me. That’s another reason I couldn’t do
it. We’re just too much alike.]

 

Punch, block, kick, jump, sweep, dodge.

 

Thanks.

 

[No problem.]

 

Kick, lunge, duck, kick, sweep.

 

[So what are you
going to do with all this.]

 

Dunno yet. Fight
crime, maybe. Just live for the day.

 

[Good thinking. Just
take care of yourself.]

 

You got it.

 

Block, kick, dodge, punchpunchpunchpunch.

 

Small cracks sounded out as Ran’s hands lashed out like
whipcracks, breaking the sound barrier. Then he took the air in a leaping crane
kick, bouncing off a tree at the end of the kick, He paused a moment to look
around, and saw several of the lawn care people staring at him, jaws gaping
open in shock.

 

Of course, it was Monday. Lawn day. And he was in the way.
And judging by the time of day, he had been out there for hours already. Thing
is, he didn’t really feel tired.

 

Ran smiled, a moment of self consciousness catching up with
him. He scratched the base of his ponytail. “Uh…sorry. I’ll get out of your way
now,”

 

Ran thought about it a moment, then bent his knees low. He
felt the ki gather under him and he leapt…right to the top of the four story
building. He paused a moment, exhilarated by the jump, then looked over the
Middleton skyline.

 

Greenway Center,
formerly the Wisconsin Trade
Center, was the largest building in
the area, at around 30 stories. In a few moments, Nam
stood at the top of it, looking down.

 

He could really grow to like this.

[Unicorna]

I looked at Rhea and pointedly did NOT look at Nene. That was one problem I was so not up to facing, not yet. "Well, who's hungry?"

Rhea jumped up and twirled around to face me, raising a hand. "Meee!"

The masculine voice then came from her lips again. "Well, at least that's something that we do agree on."

Tam and Nene looked at each other then nodded at me in agreement.

"But there's no food left in the house." Brian's voice coming from the woman's body told everyone. "It was all fried by Rhea."

"Well then, I brought my car and it's got more than enough space for the four of us. There's got to be a burger joint open somewhere around
here." I stood up and shifted back to my human form and reached into my pocket for my keys, only to find them gone. All of my pockets were empty.
"Uhhh..."

Nene looked up at me. "What's wrong?"

"My keys." I was re-checking all of my pockets frantically. "I don't know where my car keys went. I know I drove up here and I had them when
I got here. But they're gone now."

Tam shrugged and began looking around the garage as Spud gave me a long look. "When you got here, you only were in the yard and garage. Do you remember
what happened after that?"

"Well, I always put my keys into my pocket. It's an ingrained habit now, I don't even think about it."

Spud shrugged in Rhea's body. "When you got here, what did you do?"

"Well, after pulling you down from the ceiling so to say, I..." My eyes widened as it dawned. "I changed to Nano. My keys must have changed
too... my clothes obviously did, but they came back." I pondered as I tugged at my shirt. I realized that while it looked and left like normal clothing, I
could tell it was made out of nannites, just like the rest of me. And if my clothes were now made out of nannites... "Wait, I've got an idea." I
held my palm out flat and concentrated for a moment, furrowing my brow. Internally I almost felt like I was troubleshooting a computer. Looking for a program I
knew was there, but couldn't find. Digging a bit deeper into recently added items folder, I saw Skin.exe, Eyes.exe, Clothing.exe, Wallet.exe, Keys.exe
"Found it!" An internal nudge later to execute the program and my keys sort of 'reverse-melted' out of my palm, taking a few seconds to
congeal and solidify into what I was looking for. With my other hand, I grabbed the largest key and jingled the rest, my grin huge. "That's more like
it."

The other three in the room were just staring at me, and I gave them an irritated look back. "What? It's not weirder than what else has been going on
tonight." I grumbled and took another second to recall my wallet and checked it quickly to make sure everything was still right inside before tucking it
into my back pocket.

"Come on, lets just go."

"Wait." Spud's voice caused me to pause and look back at Rhea. "What are we wearing?"

I had opened my mouth to respond but Rhea was faster. "What I always wear silly."

I finally got a good look at her and shook my head. The tight spandex wasn't going to work for going out in public. "Can you still do a costume
change? Put on some jeans and a t-shirt." I took that chance to look around at the others, really LOOKING at them. Tam was still in her PPD outfit and
Nene was wearing, ironically, Ben's "I like the little red one" t-shirt and nothing else. "You two are going to have to change too." As
I spoke Tam took care of herself with a flash of light, returning to Chris's look. Rhea did the same and wore a skin tight t-shirt and jeans that would
guarantee any masculine attention would be on her.

Nene just shrugged. "I don't have anything from my room that fits anymore. I know, I looked."

"Hmm... " I walked up towards her and plucked at her shirt. Could I do the same thing for her I did for my own clothes? "Hold still, this may
feel a little weird." I closed my eyes and pulled up the clothing program I had found earlier and opened it. Mentally I took her current clothing and
shrunk it down a bit, and also formatted her a pair of shorts and flip flops to go with it.

I didn't hear it due to concentrating, but Nene squeaked as her shirt seemed to come alive. It wriggled and shifted and shrunk, becoming tighter around her
form but not too tight. The part of the shirt that had been hanging down to mid thigh tightened around her and seemed to sew itself together around her legs.
Then the fabric itself changed, no longer being white t-shirt material, but becoming heavier and darker blue. A few scraps fell to the floor and began
wriggling themselves around her feet until they became a pair of thin sandals. I pulled back and opened my eyes, as Nene inspected her new outfit. "Oh,
nice. I like it, thanks Amy!"

"No problem. Though we'll probably have to hit a Wal-Mart soon to get you something a bit more normal." I jingled my keys and opened the garage
door to go out. On the way to my car, it gave a double beep and all the doors unlocked. I decided not to mention to the others that it didn't have that
ability before today. "Any ideas on places that are open this late at night Spud?"

"Yeah, there's that Zips just down road. It's open 24 hours and has good food."

"Perfect." All of us piled into the car, Nene in the passengers seat and Tam and Rhea into the backseat. I glanced at Nene as she buckled in then
stared straight ahead. My hands had a near death grip on the driving wheel. This was Nene, but this was also Ben. It sounded like Ben to me, but then Nene had
always sounded like Ben to me. I always told him that Nene's personality was nearly identical to his in real life.

But this was NOT what I meant!

I've known Ben for almost a decade, as long as I've known MD. Hell, I've been dating the guy for five years. But now, this was... gah. I
couldn't even process it. In the back of my mind an image popped up of a computer screen giving the "Fatal Error: Abort, Retry, Fail" warning. I
mentally swatted that away like I'd swat an irritating fly. I had to concentrate on getting us to where we were going. As I pulled out of the driveway I
couldn't help but grin to myself. One upside of being made into a living computer, I could pull up an internal GPS and would never need instructions on how
to get from point A to point B again.

[Terrenceknight]

Looking into the Mirrior..I see a face thats, well..similar to what I've been seeing every morning for the past almost twenty nine years but there
certainly was differences..namely there was a large distinct lack of -fat- on the face that stared back.."..I want to say I'm surprised at this..but
I'm thinkin this has got to be the dream to top all dreams..I'm him...Me, oh hell what do I call myself?.." I mutter in a deeper..stronger voice
as a thick muscled arm comes up to run through my hair which was now down just a little past my shoulders, the thick curls replaced by an almost
'barbarian' hairdo.. "Either this is a dream..or I've finaly gone off the deep end and This is a delusion, and i'm currently being dragged
away to a rubber room while babbling incoherently.." A mutter escapes my lips as I absently run a finger accross one of the faint scars accross my cheek,
just one of many that adorned this body..-my- body "Damn...the disturbing thing is..I can tell exactly how I got each one of these, but..What the hell
happened? Is this a dream? It can't be.."

On a whim I glance down at my boxers "...It would be nice if it wasn't a dream..I'm not quite sure who I'd kill to get his body...well either
that or maybe I really did something right in my past like.." my laugh echo's the empty Condo with a slight hint of hysteria before calming down
"I'm..going to go lay down for a Nap..and when I wake up..this will all have been just an awesome dream...although I've never..never felt this
lively in my life, it was truely a euphroic feeling to feel so alive..so lively "Its too good to be true..right?" I know its crazy to be talking out
loud to myself..but I just needed to sound out my thoughts..and I didn't know who to call since none of my friends or family would recognize the changes in
my voice..so instead I had to talk to myself for the time being. Letting out a quiet sigh of confusion my hand absently flicks the lightswitch off, leaving me
in darkness once more as I feel my way into my bedroom at night "Well..seems like..my night vision hasnt changed.." A dry laugh escapes my lips as I
sit down in a large soft recliner and close my eyes to get some rest and hopefuly wake up from this dream that..well is just too fantastic to be real....

[Matrix Dragon]

***

If I'd needed clues that I was now rather messed up, it was the observations in the back of my head that one, Nene's shirt and legs were very nice to
look at, and two, I was jealous of how well she filled out that shirt compared to me. Sighing slightly, I looked away from her and glanced at Amy. The tense
look on her face caught my attention, despite her best efforts to hide it. The death grip on the steering wheel didn't help matters. It didn't take a
genius to work out the source of her unease was sitting in the passenger seat (Which my brain was still insisting was the drivers seat, why isn't she
watching the road?!)

Considering OM and Uni's situation, I was suddenly very glad I hadn't been logged in as Ifrit. Or did Nene wish I was? How much of each made up the
redhead now? Trying to work it out was giving me a headache again... and it could wait. "Listen guys, once we're out of the car, there's something
we all have too do," I said, drawing their attention. "It'll be hardest on you two," I said, looking at Rhea and Spud, who currently seemed
to only have a single curious expression on her face. "We can NOT, under any circumstances, draw attention to ourselves. We can't act by what passes
for unusual by local standards. Which means you can't talk Brian, and Rhea, you can't let any radiation out. Make sure to do what Mister Whiskers says
in regards to that, but don't talk to him where anyone can see you."

"What?!" they both exclaimed, in a voice that seemed to be a hilarious mix of both of them, leaving her momentarily rubbing at a sore throat.

Seeing she wasn't immediately going to argue, due to her throat, I pressed on. "This world is a lot more primitive then ours," I pointed out.
"They have no artificial intelligence, limited spaceflight, they've never breached the dimensional barrier or truly cracked the genetic code. Hell,
most of them don't even believe in magic. From their point of view, if they see a girl talking in two voices, they'd think she's crazy."

"I'm not crazy!" Rhea protested, folding her arms under her chest and glaring at me. Then her body language shifted in a heartbeat, as Spuds
voice and movements took over.

"No, he's right. They'd freak out and assume we were crazy-"

"We're not! Well, I'm not and I know Mister Whiskers isn't, but I'm not so sure about you really," she pointed out, cuddling the
panda.

Spud sighed. "I'm wondering that myself right now," she admitted. "But what we mean is, they'd assume we were crazy. And there's a
lot more of them then there are us. And if they found out about your- about Mister Whiskers powers, then they'd try to study them. And that's the last
thing that we want."

Rhea paused, giving the panda another cuddle that briefly made my envy Mister Whiskers. "Okay, point made," she agreed. "But you need to keep
quiet out there too!"

"Agreed," Brian replied.

"Okay, that explains Rhea and Brian," Amy said. "And the rest of us?"

"Well, mostly me and Chris," Nene pointed out. "I mean, I don't legally exist. At all. No Nene Romanova, and right now I'm a bit too
cute to be Ben," she pouted, missing Amys slight scowl.

"And I have my drivers license, which is from Australia. If they ask for a passport, I'm in serious shit." I leaned back and sighed. "And
then there's the other thing, the big worrying problem. There is no Citizen Crime Fighting Act here. If we were to do what comes naturally to us
here-"

"I'd need Lisa for that," Rhea pointed out with a helpful smile.

"... Besides that," I said, pausing to consider that wonderful image, made better then ever by the sight of Rheas sexy form in the flesh.
"Besides that, we'd be arrested and charged for vigilante crimes, and quite possibly a host of other crimes. Destruction of property, endangering
lives, illegal possession of radioactive materials..." Looking around, I saw that I'd gotten their attention with that. "We're not in
Paragon, so we need to be damn careful."

Nene sighed, pulling her legs up. "Oh brave new world..." I frowned briefly, before leaning forward and messing up her hair. "Hey!" she
protested.

"Don't you worry," I said with a grin. "Amy's worked out shapeshifting, I've got it, Rhea's gotten a version from somewhere...
once we track down a wizard, you'll be you again in no time." I noticed Amy relax ever so slightly, even as I noticed the... mixed expression on Nenes
face.

"... You have a really sexy accent," Rhea decided, making me blink and give her an odd look.

"Huh?" I responded with the conversational skills of two lives.

"Well, you do," she shrugged.

"I noticed you had the same accent earlier as Tam," Amy laughed, earning a pained expression from me.

It was a familiar debate, and it always threw me for a loop even as it amused me. "What is it about my accent that facinates you lot so much?" I
demanded as Amy pulled us into a parking spot.

***

[Foxboy]

12 noon EDT, July 6, 2009 -- Fox's home

I woke from the meditative trance I'd gone into as part of Misty's daily routine feeling refreshed and energetic. Essentially, I'd been ensuring that my metabolic and chakra systems were in proper working order. Additionally, over the course of the meditation, I'd exfoliated, depilated and cleaned my teeth, all using chakra techniques. The meditation had been designed for extremely busy Hanagawa and Hanovers, to allow them the time to take care of beauty and exercise while also acting as kunoichi. Fifteen minutes of navel-gazing compared to easily two hours of exercise, hygiene, and beauty treatments? Yes, please.

I stood up and absently switched to my ballistic cloth t-shirt and jeans costume, and blinked. I had my costumes? Well, that was good. Now I wouldn't look like a tool when I went to get more normal clothes from Wal-Mart. However, having my costumes available opened another can of worms. I took a moment to catalog Misty's techniques and found her "stuff space."

I began pulling out salvage and random devices such as my Nemesis staff and the little charm full of the Sands of Mu. I also pulled out Misty's purse and pocketbook. Those could be useful, if I could find a decent place to sell them, but the breath caught in my throat when I pulled out the comma-shaped jade bead, or magatama on a leather thong.

"Chi- Chiyuki-san?" I asked.

The magatama pulsed and grew cold momentarily in my hand.

"Oh boy...."
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

[Rev Dark]

I am shocked, appalled and amused at people who cannot do simple math.
I am not talking about complex algebra or calculus; just simple exercises of addition, subtraction, division and multiplication. The last time I looked at such things, City of Heroes had a subscriber base of 130,000 users.
Perhaps a quarter of them would be on at any given time, and that is a very generous estimate. Of those, only a
smaller fraction would be playing on Virtue; though perhaps a slightly higher percentage, given the popularity of the server.



From there you could estimate that some 4,500 individuals had been caught up in whatever
the hell happened. That is 2,250 heroes and 2,250 villains; making the assumption that more heroes than villains were
logged on ; I would suspect that actual numbers slanted more towards the heroes in this regard. If those 4,500
individuals were exclusively in North America, they would represent one in approximately 118,000. That meant twelve
individuals in the National Capital Region of Canada. Seventy in New York City.



On a world scale this seems insignificant. Even
if you can bench press a car, throw an endless series of fireballs, or heal those around you by thinking happy thoughts.



The reality was far different. Though the
newswires were not yet abuzz with stories of comic book heroes and villains; there were enough reports of strange events to demonstrate that whatever had
happened, was already being felt, and on a scale much larger than the already generous estimate of 4,500 individuals.



While I cannot be sure; with the limited evidence that I have at hand, I hold a
hypothesis. Focus. Whatever happened keyed in to a particular
focus. Those playing on Virtue, really playing, were immersed in the idea of a character they were holding in their
mind; that imprint being then stamped in our reality. It would also explain why I could move beyond the mechanics of
the game. My mental image of Excalibastard included far more than the skill sets of a dual blade scrapper. That carried through to the new reality I was dealing with.



Perhaps it was not just those on Virtue Server at that moment.



Perhaps there were others whose mental image of, well something, had been imprinted on
the world.



That was a concerning thought.



There was another concerning though.



Why was I being attacked by demons?



Okay. I wasn't technically being attacked by
demons.



The museum was being attacked by demons.



I just happened to be there with my lovely wife.



Fuck.