/Drip./
/Drip./
/Drip./
It's raining in Paragon City tonight and there's a small leak in my suit. The icy water is trickling down my back and making my inner-suit most
irritating to wear. The sky is bleak and the weather gods have decreed that we are in for a dumping. Despite efforts, predictions, and expectations to the
contrary, a massive storm has hit the city. It has set in and has been lashing the city for days... first time that has happen in who knows how long.
I sit up here on this building in Atlas Park over-looking the base entrance, watching the rain cascade out of the sky. It's really pelting the city. But
there are times when not even water can wash away all the stains - sometimes the grime's just too deeply enrooted. Scratch beneath the surface, and
you'll see it again like malignant boil oozing puss and fouling the once pristine appearance again.
/Drip./
/Drip./
/Drip./
The rain trickles and flows like a living serpent as it traces paths down my suit and then across my visor. I make no move to clear it away. Motionless, I sit
here and ponder. A sentinel, watching over those foolish or brave enough to venture out in this weather. The rain pings off my weapon where it rests, ready to
be used, should the need arise. For now it lies to the side, slowly being rinsed along with its owner. Always ready to speak its voice in the pursuit of
justice, it sat dormant. Like everything else, it seem muted, dulled, washed out. The oppressive gloom that rain has brought is all pervasive, and seems to
drag everything down.
Casting my gaze at the building I'm perched on, the sheets of water rebounds off the side of the wall. Forming puddles and pools on the ledge that I'm
sitting on before overflowing these and trickling down the wall to join the run-off in the street below. Once it mixed with the murky muck in the drains it
would flow along with all of the other filth into the sewers and from there it would end up who knows where. Probably the sea or some processing plant
somewhere. The building that houses the base is no better off, it is getting completely drenched as well.
Below, there is little traffic in the street. Who can blame them? In this deery gloom it not safe to be on the roads driving a vehicle and yet there are still
some that do. And then there are the brave souls that brave the sidewalk and are traveling about on foot. None of them ever looking up, none of them ever
noticing the silent additional gargoyle on top of this particular ledge. But that's ok with me. It would be better for them to be done with their business
and inside quicker then prolong their trip outdoors.
It's true, no one ever bothers to look up. Not anymore. Even the new gang of street thugs that has recently blown into the area is keeping quiet tonight.
Think the rain might have drowned them. Can only wish the city was that lucky.
The rain continues to roar down on my head, but I am able to filter it out as I turn my head skywards, the first movement in hours. No, still raining. The sky
is still falling, the rain still tumbling down in sheets. I can still hear the pitter-patter of the drops falling on my suit and visor. And yes, it is still
dripping down under the back of my suit, my inner suit getting uncomfortably wet and irritating.
Taking a deep breath and then holding it for a two-count and letting it out over a three-count, I let the worries and melancholy flow away like the rain
running over every nook and cranny of my armor. Yes, it is raining, but it is only water. Yes, it is bleak out, but life goes on. Yes, people are staying
indoors, but they are doing so together as groups. From here I can see a family gathered together around a heater watching a show. There is a bunch of people
over there enjoying a meal in a restaurant.
At this hour of night I wonder where the rest of my family are. Hopefully somewhere warm and safe. Calling up the roster I see that my extended family, some of
them are sleeping, others are 'off duty' if ever there was such a thing while others are like me, busy patrolling the city despite the lousy weather.
What makes a hero? That fundamental question bubbles up in my head. It has been asked a million times and received a million answers. So what's one more.
Does kneeling here in the cold sapping rain with it trickling down my back make me a hero? No. I don't feel very heroic at moment. Besides, there are a few
beat cops down there that have been out there just as long as I have.
So what makes a hero? A hero is someone who is able to stand up and be counted when it matters. To face a challenge and succeed. Even ordinary people can be
heroes. A hero is someone who offers shelter to those who need it - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who cares for others while asking nothing in
return - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who goes beyond the call of duty to help another - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who
without hesitation puts themselves at risk to help strangers - as someone once did me. A hero is someone who brightens your day - as someone once did for me.
A crash of glass in the distance... and the police-scanner bursts into life: "Robbery in progress..."
Guess those gangs finally got bored of doing nothing.
Grasping my weapon, I slip off the ledge and into the night towards the crime.
Time to be somebody's hero, as someone once was to me.
/Drip./
/Drip./
It's raining in Paragon City tonight and there's a small leak in my suit. The icy water is trickling down my back and making my inner-suit most
irritating to wear. The sky is bleak and the weather gods have decreed that we are in for a dumping. Despite efforts, predictions, and expectations to the
contrary, a massive storm has hit the city. It has set in and has been lashing the city for days... first time that has happen in who knows how long.
I sit up here on this building in Atlas Park over-looking the base entrance, watching the rain cascade out of the sky. It's really pelting the city. But
there are times when not even water can wash away all the stains - sometimes the grime's just too deeply enrooted. Scratch beneath the surface, and
you'll see it again like malignant boil oozing puss and fouling the once pristine appearance again.
/Drip./
/Drip./
/Drip./
The rain trickles and flows like a living serpent as it traces paths down my suit and then across my visor. I make no move to clear it away. Motionless, I sit
here and ponder. A sentinel, watching over those foolish or brave enough to venture out in this weather. The rain pings off my weapon where it rests, ready to
be used, should the need arise. For now it lies to the side, slowly being rinsed along with its owner. Always ready to speak its voice in the pursuit of
justice, it sat dormant. Like everything else, it seem muted, dulled, washed out. The oppressive gloom that rain has brought is all pervasive, and seems to
drag everything down.
Casting my gaze at the building I'm perched on, the sheets of water rebounds off the side of the wall. Forming puddles and pools on the ledge that I'm
sitting on before overflowing these and trickling down the wall to join the run-off in the street below. Once it mixed with the murky muck in the drains it
would flow along with all of the other filth into the sewers and from there it would end up who knows where. Probably the sea or some processing plant
somewhere. The building that houses the base is no better off, it is getting completely drenched as well.
Below, there is little traffic in the street. Who can blame them? In this deery gloom it not safe to be on the roads driving a vehicle and yet there are still
some that do. And then there are the brave souls that brave the sidewalk and are traveling about on foot. None of them ever looking up, none of them ever
noticing the silent additional gargoyle on top of this particular ledge. But that's ok with me. It would be better for them to be done with their business
and inside quicker then prolong their trip outdoors.
It's true, no one ever bothers to look up. Not anymore. Even the new gang of street thugs that has recently blown into the area is keeping quiet tonight.
Think the rain might have drowned them. Can only wish the city was that lucky.
The rain continues to roar down on my head, but I am able to filter it out as I turn my head skywards, the first movement in hours. No, still raining. The sky
is still falling, the rain still tumbling down in sheets. I can still hear the pitter-patter of the drops falling on my suit and visor. And yes, it is still
dripping down under the back of my suit, my inner suit getting uncomfortably wet and irritating.
Taking a deep breath and then holding it for a two-count and letting it out over a three-count, I let the worries and melancholy flow away like the rain
running over every nook and cranny of my armor. Yes, it is raining, but it is only water. Yes, it is bleak out, but life goes on. Yes, people are staying
indoors, but they are doing so together as groups. From here I can see a family gathered together around a heater watching a show. There is a bunch of people
over there enjoying a meal in a restaurant.
At this hour of night I wonder where the rest of my family are. Hopefully somewhere warm and safe. Calling up the roster I see that my extended family, some of
them are sleeping, others are 'off duty' if ever there was such a thing while others are like me, busy patrolling the city despite the lousy weather.
What makes a hero? That fundamental question bubbles up in my head. It has been asked a million times and received a million answers. So what's one more.
Does kneeling here in the cold sapping rain with it trickling down my back make me a hero? No. I don't feel very heroic at moment. Besides, there are a few
beat cops down there that have been out there just as long as I have.
So what makes a hero? A hero is someone who is able to stand up and be counted when it matters. To face a challenge and succeed. Even ordinary people can be
heroes. A hero is someone who offers shelter to those who need it - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who cares for others while asking nothing in
return - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who goes beyond the call of duty to help another - as someone once did for me. A hero is someone who
without hesitation puts themselves at risk to help strangers - as someone once did me. A hero is someone who brightens your day - as someone once did for me.
A crash of glass in the distance... and the police-scanner bursts into life: "Robbery in progress..."
Guess those gangs finally got bored of doing nothing.
Grasping my weapon, I slip off the ledge and into the night towards the crime.
Time to be somebody's hero, as someone once was to me.