A Geeky Gryphon's Origins

[NickDaGriff]

Well, here it is.  My tie-in with Cloak's Memoirs of a RAFian.  Hope it's not too terrible... 

CHAPTER ONE

A long time ago, in a city far, far away (from RAF)...

[spoiler]
It was a quiet enough evening at the docks.  Seagulls wheeled overhead, occasionally calling out over the tide lapping at the piers.  Gentle breezes rustled and rearranged bits of discarded trash on the pavement between the looming warehouses.  And just inside warehouse number fifteen on the water’s edge, a preoccupied idle muttering could be heard mingling with the soft metallic clicks of a ratchet wrench.

“C’mon, tell me you’re gonna fit this time,” the voice said.   “I’m not going back to the junkyard this late, least you can do is…  There we go.”

It belonged to a quadrupedal figure, easily mistaken for an ordinary mountain lion at a glance, if said glance were from quite a distance away, and one were too busy looking for a dropped contact lens to pay attention.  The first major tipoff was that he spoke, obviously.  The second was that he was currently hunched over a stack of circuit boards and bolting together a metal casing around them, an activity not usually performed by a typical wildcat.  The third, being the large set of brown wings protruding from his back, as well as the hooked beak from his face.  This was, in fact, a gryphon.

He was fairly common as gryphons went, at least in this part of the world.  Tan fur, brown and cream colored feathers, yellow eyes, and a fan of feathers forming small winglets at the tip of his feline tail.  Less common were the metal bracers he wore over his feline forepaws.  Each had a set of buttons, and a small display on top.  On the undersides, a pair of small jointed metal appendages served as a set of artificial opposable thumbs, giving him the dexterity to hold his tools. 

“Okay then,” the cat/bird hybrid said.  “Just gotta get you mounted, in…”

He glanced up at the steel frame construction towering overhead, ellipsoid in shape and already packed full of electronics. 

“Hmm…”

His eyes flicked past his work in progress and to the ceiling, where an electric winch on rails functioned as a crane system to lift heavy machinery.  Or, perhaps other things.

A few taps on his bracer’s touchpad, and the winch repositioned itself directly overhead, presenting him with its lowered hook and a nylon belt wrapped around it.

The gryphon was now beginning to have second thoughts as he looped the belt around his right back paw and let himself hang freely from the warehouse ceiling.

Maybe this wasn’t the best way.

Unfortunately, it was the only way.  In a genius move, he’d built the install point for the primary and secondary drive control units in the most awkward part of the substructure possible.  Only after removing the ****pit piece by piece, uninstalling the coolant pump, and disconnecting some extremely heavy hydraulic pistons and supporting them in place on cables, only then could he lower himself down into the potentially pinch-hazard-filled mechanisms to reach the socket to install these boards. 

To be fair, it wasn’t actually his only idea.  He could undo weeks of construction and disassemble the whole chassis, but no.  Not worth it. 

With the press of a button on his gauntlets, the winch on the ceiling began slowly lowering the gryph into the construction, inch by inch.  He stretched out as straight as he could, wings tucked flat against his back, paws out like he was diving into water. 

Gently now. 

Easy does it…

And with a satisfying click, the board was socketed in place.  The gryph pulled back his paws, holding his breath.  Several blue lights turned on, signaling that it was fully functional and ready for testing.  The edges of his beak curled up into a smile, and he let out a nervous laugh.

“Yo, Nick!”

The gryphon just about jumped out of his skin at the call of his actual name, smashing his head into the two-inch thick hydraulic piston above it.

“Motherf-- ow…” he growled, rubbing a paw over his ears.  “What?!?”

“Dude!  We got a call!  Get your feathery ass out here!”

Holy crap.  This was it.  The big moment.  He couldn't mash the lift button fast enough.

Nick was yanked straight out of the machinery and up to the ceiling.  “Are you ser--” he started, but he could already see Cooper holding up his phone to show the red alert symbol with the Heroes Association logo.  Legit.

The Sanctioned Heroes Association for the Masses, more commonly referred to as the Heroes Association in short, was a privately-owned government-funded organization designed for the purposes of peacekeeping by way of organizing a citizens’ militia.  Supernatural attacks, alien invasions, and random monsters showing up from time to time were far too common in this world.  With the military being stretched thin at times and police occasionally being out of their element, there had been little choice but to turn to the public for help.  Anyone, with or without abilities of any kind, had the opportunity to apply.  They could prove themselves as an asset and be paid for it, working their way up the ranks from lowly Class C all the way up to S, or maybe even X. 

As a Class C, you had to work pretty hard to justify your station.  Reporting crimes or dangerous situations, stopping them, and providing support to upper class heroes or other authorities would contribute to your general rating, meaning better chance of moving up to Class B and getting some actual stability.  Alert signals were always a good way to get ahead, but it was pretty rare for them to be broadcast to Class C, which of course meant that the fact that Nick was currently staring at one was pretty significant.

“Gimme a sec, I'll be right there!”  Nick unlooped his ankle as fast as he could, spread his wings, and let himself swoop down to the corner of the workshop.  There, a leather harness with an attached set of saddlebags hung from a hook on the wall.

Cooper Caldwell, better known to the public and Heroes community as Street Samurai, stood in the doorway in his full sports-gear-fashioned-to-look-traditional-Japanese armor apart from his helmet, tapping his foot impatiently.  The passive-aggressive gesture didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated for what it was, but it sure wasn’t helping Nick get his satchels on any faster.  He sighed internally, and focused on getting the straps over his wings.

“So what’s the word?” he asked.  “This has to be an an actual disaster for this kind of alert, right?”

“Well,” said Cooper, “You’d know if you actually had your notifications turned on, so we wouldn’t have to waste valuable minutes catching you up.”

Fortunately for Nick, Cooper couldn’t see him rolling his eyes as he slipped on a pair of blue-tinted aviator goggles.  “My notifications are on.”  He waved a paw up to the walls and ceiling.  “Faraday cage.  We discussed this, remember?”

Nothing but a blank stare.  Nick sighed, externally this time.

“The walls are electromagnetically shielded.  Nothing gets through.  No signal.  That’s why I said you have to let me know personally the instant an alert goes out.”

Cooper frowned and looked down at his smartphone, suddenly realizing it was displaying no bars up at the top of the screen.  “Huh.”  He tapped the device against his gauntleted palm a few times, as though that would help.  “This isn’t going to ruin my phone, right?”

Nick clenched his beak, working very hard to not look annoyed.  “No, your phone is fine.”  Standing up using the table as a crutch, he cinched the leather belt tight around his waist and gave his wings a few test flaps.  Everything felt secure.

“I’m ready,” said Nick.  “Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” said Cooper, “but you’re sure this isn’t going to screw up my phone?”

“I’m sure.”  Nick turned and headed for the door.  Deep down inside, he desperately wanted to add, I’d explain, but I’d rather not waste valuable minutes catching you up.  Still, he held it back.  No need to pour fuel on a potential fire.

“Because seriously,” Cooper continued as they exited the warehouse, “you’re buying me a new one if--  Oh wait, never mind.  It’s showing reception.”

It’s only a temporary thing, Nick thought to himself.  One month, and you can join any other team you want. 

Stupid Association guidelines.  A month was going to be a long time.


[/spoiler]

[guitarhero01234]

Liking these characters so far, even with how little we've seen of them. Very nice start

[Cloak]

Excellent read. I'm not just saying that, either. I mean it sincerely.

Of course, I'm wondering why we RAFians haven't heard lf this association . . .

It would make sense that Cloak doesn't -- he doesn't know everything about Earth or the Realm, despite having a near encyclopedic knowledge of species, alien and domestic. Heck, he's even perturbed that Dwellers leave something behind when they die. Then again, Cloak has only been in this Realm for five years or so before the start of "Memoirs".

[NickDaGriff]

Thanks!

I should probably specify that it's relatively new and not quite in direct geographic proximity to RAF.  RAFians might have heard of it in passing, but probably never interacted with it for reasons that will eventually become clear.  And it's not without its problems, which you may have noticed me oh-so-subtly hinting at. XD

[Cloak]

Ah. Then no wonder Cloak hasn't heard of it then.

[NickDaGriff]

Here, have another surprise chapter.  Just so you know this is actually going somewhere.  Probably.

CHAPTER TWO

[spoiler]The team’s vehicle was a bulky custom SUV covered in improvised armored plating and waiting just outside the warehouse.  Tough, dependable, roomy, and apparently powerful enough to have smashed through a house wall before the team was put together.  It actually belonged to Cooper, who treated it like it was his baby.  Of course, not many people would be willing to smash a baby through any amount of brick and drywall, but at least now everyone knew it could be done.

“Chop chop, people, let's go!” 

“God, we heard you the first time,” scoffed a young-looking teenage girl, currently staring down at her phone.  Sabrina Hedgeford-Yamato, better known by her Association pseudonym as Psy-kyo*, disinterestedly tapped away at a text message.  Without so much as a glance up, she climbed into the SUV and left the door open behind her.

Sabrina was Cooper’s girlfriend, having met him in college before she dropped out, and not quite as enthusiastic about the superhero gig as Cooper was.  She had a lot of potential with her low-level psychic and empathic abilities, and psychics tended not to stay in Class C very long.  However, her tendency to make rude hand gestures whenever talk of her unused potential came up spoke volumes.  She seemed content enough with where she was and responded poorly to authority, as evidenced by her many piercings, goth makeup, black hair partially dyed pink, and general rebellious attitude. 

Nick clambered into the back seat after her and closed the door.  He hopped up onto one of the side-mounted benches and clipped his harness to a buckled seat belt. 

“Is that everyone?” Cooper asked as he turned the ignition.  “Where's Mr. E.?”

“Right behind you,” spoke a French-accented voice from the formerly unoccupied seat.  Everyone in the vehicle jumped, then relaxed when they saw who it was. 

A humanoid figure in a beige trenchcoat sat there, face covered with a featureless slate-grey mask (not unlike a balaclava minus the faceholes) and topped with a beige fedora.  Mr. E., aka Monsieur Étranger**.  The name said it all.  Literally.  No one was sure who he was or what he could even do, because he'd avoided filling in as many fields in his Heroes Association application as he could get away with.  Even species was marked n/a, somehow.  That of course meant he was placed in Class C purely by default.  Whether he deserved to be there or not, only he knew. 

“Please,” he said, “do not hesitate on my account.  There are villains requiring vanquishing, I am sure.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Cooper grumbled.  He floored it, and they were off with a screech of rubber.

A siren activated on top of the SUV, and its roaring V-10 engine rocketed them through the streets as fast as they were legally allowed (taking the siren permits into account).  Nick, with a few minutes to spare, checked the alert broadcast on his bracers.

“...According to numerous eyewitness reports and satellite imagery, a possible metahuman or alien entity is currently rampant amid a populated residential area, and has been inflicting significant property damage.  There have been no reported casualties thus far, but the entity appears very aggressive with actively hostile intent.  Care is recommended in approaching.  Situation will be listed as threat level Wolf pending escalation.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad,” said Nick.  “Just a serious public disturbance, right?  The police could handle this.”

“Not if I get a say,” Cooper replied.  He cranked the wheel hard left and then right, sliding around a corner and forcing Nick to readjust his position on the seat.  “We might be the first responders on this one.  That means extra ranking boost if we do this right.”

“Like we needed the extra paperwork,” Sabrina grumbled. 

“What I’m saying is, don't screw this up, okay guys?  I actually want to be in Class B by the end of the year.”

Nick sighed and bit back a snarky jab.  As if anyone didn't want the promotion just as much. 

“We're here,” Cooper called out.  “I think we made--  Oh, come on, seriously?”

Nick squinted, staring through the steel louvres that armored the windows.  From where he was, he could just make out several black and chrome hoverbikes sitting next to an alleyway, with a human figure in full medieval-esque plate armor standing guard.  He was immediately hit with a sinking feeling deep in his gut.  Wonderful.  The Knights of Humanity were the last thing he’d expected or wanted to deal with today. 

Cooper turned off the ignition and swiveled his seat around to face the the back.  “Alright,” he said, fitting on a football helmet made to look like a kabuto.  “No more delays.”  He snatched a golf bag from a side compartment and hiked it over his shoulder.  “We’ve got a monster to bag.”

 Sabrina opened the rear double doors, letting the last sunlight spill inside.  As she and Mr. E. climbed out, Nick pulled a briefcase out from under the seats and opened it.  Inside, it contained four small quadcopter drones with cameras attached, held snugly in black foam.

“I’ll get some air support going and scout out where the creature is,” Nick said. 

“No, you're coming with us,” said Cooper, shoving past him and hopping outside.  “We already know where it is.”

“But I--”

“I can already sense, like, a huge amount of anger and whatever over that way,” Sabrina said. 

“But that’s--”

“I said no more delays, come on!”  Cooper folded his arms.  “Besides, you’ve got claws and stuff, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“It didn’t have to be a delay,” Nick muttered as he shut the briefcase and hopped out of the SUV.  He glanced down at his claws and winced.  Not if he could avoid it.

“Remember, code names only this point on,” said Cooper as he headed towards the alleyway.  “Let me do the talking.”

The rest of the team followed closely behind him.

“Good evening, citizens,” said the knight, his voice echoing inside his bucket-style helmet.  “I’m afraid this area is closed for the time being.  I’ll ask you to please fall back to a safe location until the threat is dealt with.”

“We're here to help,” Cooper replied.  “Just point us in the right direction.”

A distant scream echoed between the buildings.  “We appreciate your concern, citizen, but the situation is under control.”

“Look, we're not just citizens, we're with the Heroes Association.  We've got every right to be here.”  Cooper motioned to the team.  “Show him your badges, guys.”

Nick wore his on a ball chain around his neck, so all he had to do was lift his chin to show his Class C credentials while the others dug through their pockets.  The knight, however, raised his hand to stop them.

“Enough,” he said.  “Your willingness to help is appreciated, but wholly unnecessary.  Besides, a couple of Class C’s like yourself are only going to get yourselves killed out here, so just go home where you won't get hurt.”  He then looked down at Nick and said, “And make sure you two take your pet with you.  Wouldn't want it to be mistaken for some kind of xenospecies threat, now would we?”

Nick bristled at the threat.  He opened his beak to say something, anything, but words failed him.  He looked down at his paws quivering in rage, the downy feathers around his neck and chest puffing, desperately wishing he were better at speaking under pressure.

Right as he was about to be swallowed by the helpless anger, he was distracted by something else.  Did the knight just say, “you two”?  Even if he wasn't counting Nick, that still left… Nick looked around.  Where did Mr. E. go? 

“Sir!” cried a voice from down the alleyway.  A young man in light chainmail was jogging their way, looking thoroughly out of breath.  He came to a halt, stooped over and panting heavily.  “Sir, I have orders from the Captain that you are to let them through.” 

“What?” said the knight, not taking his eyes off the team.  “That can’t be right, squire, that's precisely the opposite of what he ordered.”

“I have it here, sir,” the squire said, holding a piece of paper over his head. 

“Let me see that.”  The knight snatched it from his grip and unfolded it.  “This is just a blank pa--”

At that moment, the squire unclipped a flanged mace from his belt and swung it in an upwards arc.  It tore clean through the paper just before denting the knight’s faceplate with a resounding clang!  The knight stumbled dazedly backwards, one, then two steps, before falling flat on his back in front of Cooper.  A low groan reverbrated from his helmet.  The team bewilderedly looked at the knight, then back at the squire, who was suddenly no longer the squire.  Mr. E. stood in his place, cavalierly tossing the mace over his shoulder. 

“That,” he said, dusting off his hands, “was most impolite.”

“Wait, how did you…?” Nick trailed off.

Cooper was grinning ear to ear.  “Hoho, you are not a Class C, bruh, that was awesome!”  He raised a hand to high-five Mr. E., who stared quizzically at the hand for a long and awkward moment.  Cooper slowly retracted it and shrugged at Sabrina.

“Well then,” said Mr. E., “shall we continue?”

---

* A play on words, stemming from the Japanese words "saikyou", meaning "strongest", and "kyo/kyou", meaning "unite" (in this case, referring to linking minds, one of her core skills as a psychic/empath)***

** Étranger: French word meaning "a stranger/foreigner"

*** Holy crud, did I just do a translingual pun in a language I don't even speak?****

**** A footnote of a footnote? WTF, is that even allowed?
[/spoiler]

[Cloak]

Monsieur Étranger will probably be a safer name to use to avoid confusion in the continuity, as there was already a one-off character in Memoirs with that name in #3: "Dark Phoenix". Just throwing it out there.

[NickDaGriff]

Ah, okay.  Forgot about that bit. 

[Cloak]

That's why you have me and others as continuity checkers.

When Memoirs was in its infancy, I had Aquilai providing me with that service.

And, wow, you actually made the Knights like like a somewhat credible threat, rather than treating them like a joke, like I do. Then again, Cloak sees them as such, so . . .

[NickDaGriff]

This story is fun to write, I like it.



CHAPTER THREE

[spoiler]
Heading down the alley at a brisk pace, the sounds of combat grew louder and louder still.  The alleyway turned a corner, leading into the back entrance of an apartment building’s central courtyard.

“I’m gonna hit the rooftops,” Nick said.  “I want to see what this thing is before we charge in there.”

“Sure,” said Cooper, “you do that.”

The gryphon spread his wings halfway and charged at a nearby dumpster, vaulting over and catching air.  He unfurled his wings fully and gave them several powerful flaps, propelling him up and out of the alleyway, above the level of the two-story gravel-covered rooftop.  It seemed clear from where he was.  He swooped in and flared his wings, gently alighting near the edge. 

The courtyard below was a mess.  The spread-eagled forms of several unconscious Knights were strewn across the open space.  Trash cans had been flipped and tossed, a small tree had been toppled, and the overall property values in the area had undoubtedly just taken a substantial hit.

At the center of it all stood an odd figure.  Humanoid, but it really looked more like a rainbow-colored lobster than anything.  Its large blue-ish striped eyes were held up on stalks just above its mostly red with intense neon highlights body, with a couple of knobby fists curled in front of its chest. 

The creature advanced on the last remaining Knight, who was cowering behind his upraised kite shield. 

“We need more backup!” he cried.  “Send in more--”

Nick blinked, and he missed it.  One moment the Knight was there, the next he was gone with a crash.  The only sign he had been there was a roughly human-sized hole in the apartment wall behind where he'd been standing. 

“What the…” Nick muttered.

The creature pulled back its fist and let out a grating laugh.  “No one can stop me now!” it cried in a shrill, nasally voice.  “I am the ultimate life form!”

“That looks like our cue,” Nick whispered over the comms.  “Just don't, I repeat, do not get punched by this thing.  It hits like a truck.”

“Uh huh,” Cooper replied over the comms.  Then, more distantly, Nick heard him shout, “Hey jackhole, want a piece of this?”  Cooper swaggered out of the alley, arms spread wide in a ‘come at me bro!’ sort of gesture. 

 “Ugh,” Nick groaned, rubbing a paw over his face. 

“And who are you supposed to be?” the creature screeched.  “Another flimsy shell to crack?”

“Quit flattering yourself, ugly.”  Cooper reached back into his golf bag and drew a baseball bat reminiscent of a kanabo due to a number of nuts and bolts spiking out of its length.  He treated the tip to two test taps to terra firma and grinned.  “It's just gonna make this easier.”

“Ugly!?  You're calling me ugly!?”  A number of colorful fins splayed out on his body.  “I'm glorious now!  Do you think I would have injected myself with mantis shrimp DNA if it weren't the best thing I could have possibly done?”

Nick blinked in confusion.  Mantis shrimp DNA?  So oddly... specific.  Something told him that this guy was probably not too stable to begin with.

“Wait, you did that to yourself?” said Cooper, unable to keep a laugh out of his voice.  “Damn dude, you must have been desperate for improvement, I almost feel sorry for you now.”

“I--  Shut up!  Don't patronize me!”

“Guys?” said Nick.  “I think maybe we shouldn't try to antagonize him.”

“Too late for that,” Sabrina muttered. 

“I will not be talked down to anymore!” said the creature, raising his fists.  “You’re just as bad as the rest!”

“No no no buddy, listen, you’ve got me all wrong,” said Cooper.  “I actually really don’t want to fight you, because in a fight ugly people got so much less to lose.” 

“Co--  Samurai, c’mon, don’t…” said Nick.

“So why don’t you come in quietly?  We’ll get you a nice living area in the local zoo, maybe a vet to take care of that face--”

“Shut up shut up shut up!” screamed the creature.  “I’ll make you shut up!  I’m stronger than you now, just watch me!”  With that, he charged. 

Even from where he was, Nick could see Cooper still smirking behind his faceguard.  The gryphon shifted nervously from paw to paw, mentally urging Cooper to not get himself killed.

Cooper skipped back a step to let the first punch whiff harmlessly in front of him.  Thing was, it didn't so much whiff as it did crack through the air like a whip, almost too fast to see.  The Street Samurai’s expression went from one of smug overconfidence to one of surprise instantly.  His eyes stayed fixed on the fist held out in front of his face even as his boot heel caught on a crack in the concrete.  Cooper stumbled, but didn't fall.  Even still, it created just enough of an opening for the mantis shrimp to graze his shoulderpad with enough force to send him tumbling across the pavement.  Weapons scattered everywhere from his golf bag, and Cooper was laid out on the ground clutching his right arm.

“Oh great,” Nick said as he leapt from the rooftop.  He caught the air and rode it down, straight for the mutant’s turned back.  Time for Plan B.  Paws outstretched, he took aim, and fired the tasers hidden in his bracers.

Pok pok tktktktktktktktkt!

Nick banked sharply away and settled atop the roof opposite of where he'd started.  He turned back to look, expecting the creature to be writhing on the ground, but no.  The taser darts had apparently just bounced harmlessly off of his chitinous shell and lay sparking on the ground until they ran out of charge.

“Crap,” he said, kicking the gravel with his back paw.  Not wasting any more time, Nick sat up and began digging through his saddlebags for his next idea. 

Meanwhile on the ground, the creature was slowly advancing on the prone Cooper. 

“Hey, stay away from him, you jerk,” Sabrina said, sounding more indignant than anything else.  She raised a hand towards the mantis-shrimp-man, and a curious look crossed her face.  She grimaced suddenly, and the mutant came to a halt.  He blinked confusedly a few times, slowly raising his curled fists to his head.

“Look… Jerry?” Sabrina said, speaking slowly.  “Jerry, right?  You’re being, like, kind of a dick right now.  You gotta stop.”

“How… did you…”  The giant stalk eyes began to droop and drifted lazily apart.

Cooper sat upright with a grunt, still holding his dangling right arm.  He took a deep breath, lifting the arm up, and-- Pop! --jammed it back into its socket.  He exhaled in almost a laughing growl as he climbed to his feet.

“I played football for years bro, you think that’s the first time I dislocated my shoulder?”  The Samurai grinned.  “Got any more, or was that it?”

At the sound of Cooper’s voice, Jerry’s huge eyes snapped back into focus.  “No, stop it!”

Sabrina’s head recoiled like she’d been punched in the face.  She coughed, and a trickle of blood flowed generously from her nose.  “Ooh,” she groaned, massaging her temples.

Up on the roof, Nick was busy attaching--what were they on now?--Plan D to his right bracer.  It was an electromagnetic launching mechanism similar to a net gun, only designed to fire a set of bolas--round metal weights connected to a small central ring by lengths of plastic-wrapped steel cable--to entangle a target.  Heavy duty enough to snare a mutant crustacean, he was sure. 

…He hoped, anyway.

The bulky device clicked into place, capacitors charging with a faint whine from the transformers.  The readout on his goggles showed it functioning properly.  On three legs, Nick hopped the edge and landed near the center of the courtyard, just a few meters behind Jerry.

“Stay out of my head!” he was shouting.  “I’ll kill you all!”

Nick hit a button on the bracer’s touchpad to deactivate the safety.  Just as he did so, however, he heard the whirring of an engine behind him.  He looked over his shoulder to see a knight atop a hoverbike, cruising in from the front entrance of the complex, lance at the ready.

“Purge the xeno scum!” the knight bellowed.

“Augh!” Nick cried out.  Acting on instinct, he swung the launcher underneath him and rolled onto his side, aiming up at the incoming knight.  Before he could even think about it, he’d already fired.

The bolas whistled and whirled through the air and hit the knight square in the chest.  His arms snapped against his side and he suddenly found himself unable to hold the lance straight. 

Nick curled up in panic, covering his face with his bracers as the knight’s lance staked into the ground just in front of him.  The knight was involuntarily pole-vaulted from the seat of his hoverbike, uttering part of a vulgar exclamation on his way.

With a whoosh that rippled Nick’s feathers, the hoverbike zipped not inches over his form.  Even without its rider, it carried on in a straight line.  The bike managed to get a total of thirty feet before it embedded itself into a concrete staircase and erupted in flames.

Nick peeked out from behind his paws just in time to watch the trussed-up knight tumble and skid to a halt with a shower of sparks from his plate armor.  Another small explosion from within the demolished bike made the gryphon flinch.  He winced, looking down at the spent launcher which he didn’t have a second shot for.

Everyone, sans Monsieur Étranger who was apparently nowhere to be found again, had momentarily paused to watch the spectacle of the bike crashing and burning, followed by its bound and struggling rider. 

“Not bad,” said Cooper.

Nick climbed to his paws, disengaged the launcher, and tossed it aside in disgust.  “Okay, um…”  He paused, collecting his thoughts.  “I guess we’re on Plan E then.”
[/spoiler]

[Cloak]

Wow, foreshadowing to a Memoirs book I haven't even outlined yet. Nor have told you about. Talk about serendipity.

[NickDaGriff]

Wow, foreshadowing to a Memoirs book I haven't even outlined yet. Nor have told you about. Talk about serendipity.

I may have perhaps taken a couple hints and inferences...  :3  (also luck)

[NickDaGriff]

Another.  Feel free to offer critique.

CHAPTER FOUR

[spoiler]It was getting fairly dark by this point.  Nick’s feline eyes didn’t have much trouble adjusting to it, even with the streetlamps and bright flames licking around the crashed hoverbike.  The entire area was now wreathed in shadows, with stark contrast between the lit and darkened areas. 

This man/mantis shrimp, Jerry, had just taken notice of the gryphon behind him for seemingly the first time.  His bulbous stalk eyes were now darting angrily between the two fronts as he realized he was pincered.  To his credit, it didn’t take him long to figure out what to do.  He turned and barreled straight at Nick, fists ****ed and ready. 

Fur and feathers bristled down the length of Nick’s spine at the sight.  “Umm…”  He took a tentative step back.  The crustacean juggernaut wasn't slowing.  Nick turned and bolted. 

He could hear the pounding footfalls behind him as he scrambled up a square column and over the iron railing to the second floor walkway.  There was a loud smashing noise as Jerry pulverized part of the plaster pillar with another preposterously powerful punch.  Nick shook his head to get the alliteration out and peeked over the edge. 

Jerry was there, glaring up at Nick with his bulbous blue eyes.  He glanced around for another way up, but the main staircase currently had a pile of flaming wreckage blocking it off.  Grunting in annoyance, Jerry shielded his eyes from the blaze and turned back toward Cooper. 

Nick’s mind raced for a new solution as he paced along the upper walkway.  “Okay, um…”  Inspiration struck.  “Hey, Psy-kyo,” he said over the commlink.  “Are you able to--  Wait, are you texting right now?!”

“No,” she said in a tone that suggested it was obvious from the back of her phone, “I’m on Instagram.  My friends don’t believe I’m actually here.”

“Ugh, look, never mind that!  I just need to know if you can handle mind-linking with him again.”

Sabrina sighed, massaging her scalp as she slid her phone back into her pocket.  “I guess?  It took a lot out of me when he broke free.  Like, it really hurt.”

“I saw, but… maybe that’s because you were trying to fight him too directly.  You were trying to suppress his emotions and force him to calm down, right?”

“What, are you some kind of psychic guru or something now?”

“No, I…”  Nick smoothed over an ear with his paw, watching Cooper and Jerry start circling each other again.  “I’m just saying we should use his strength against him.  His emotions are pretty clearly boiling over, which means you read them more easily, right?”

“Yeah…  So you want me to link with him, and then what?”

“Then, you watch what he’s thinking, and relay it to Samurai.  Let him know what Jerry’s going to do before he does it.”

“Two links?  I don’t…”  She grimaced and flicked her hair back over her shoulder.  “Fine.  I’ll try.”

“You’ve got this,” Nick said. 

Sabrina took a deep breath in and out through her mouth, closed her eyes, and raised both hands towards Cooper and Jerry.  She snorted, spat a glob of blood to the side, and readjusted her stance.  There wasn't any immediately visible effect, but the twitches across her face made it seem like she was doing something. 

Nick, meanwhile, wracked his brain as he paced, trying to search for some kind of weakness.  He’d heard of mantis shrimps before, and was trying to recall everything he knew about them.  Mulling it over, he began rummaging through his pack for spare electronic components.  There was something that might work. 

Jerry and Cooper were circling closer together now, making small steps forward and back, feinting, testing the others’ range.  Ultimately, it was Cooper who threw the first real strike.  He took a swing with his kanabo-bat at the armored midsection in front of him, clacking off the surface with the wooden tip. 

Jerry grunted, and retaliated.  It was a blur of motion, an impossibly fast one-two combo.  All it hit was air.

Cooper blinked, seemingly surprised at himself for having sidestepped it.  He swung his weapon again, striking Jerry’s chest with a resounding thwhack! 

Jerry recoiled, doubled over and gasping.  Watching from above, Nick expected him to go on the defensive, but he clearly had things on his mind.  Jerry let loose a primal scream and charged forward, fists flying furiously. 

“Oh crap,” said Cooper, backpedaling hard.  Knobby, club-like fists the size of softballs literally whistled through the air in a flurry of blows.  Cooper was driven back, retreating across the courtyard while trying to stay close enough to find an opening.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Nick muttered, pulling a panel off his bracers.  With the internal working laying bare before him, he reached in and plucked a red laser diode free from its mounting.  No soldering required, he liked to keep things modular.  Very carefully, Nick opened the casing and removed the red led, replacing it with a spare infrared led he’d scavenged from a TV remote control.  It was a slightly tighter fit getting it back in, but it worked.  Always good to keep spare electronics on hand.  Although, he felt that he should probably integrate that particular feature better.

He put it on the to-do list.  It was tomorrow’s problem.

Nick slapped the panel back in place, and began rerouting power using the touchpad.  About five milliwatts was typically considered the safe limit for these things, so… maybe six?  Seven?  Nick shrugged.  He set it to twenty.

That done, he sprinted along the walkway and around the corner, now opposite the flaming ruin of the bike.  The gryphon stood up against the railing, switched his goggles to infrared mode, and took aim. 

Cooper barely had a chance to get a single attack in.  He was kept busy dodging, ducking, and weaving around the fusillade of punches with preternatural reflexes.  There was no way he could keep it up forever, though. 

As soon as Jerry was facing away from the fire and toward him, Nick activated the laser.  Through his goggles he watched it blaze across the courtyard, otherwise invisible to the naked eye, straight into the face of Jerry.  Who, being part mantis shrimp, actually could see infrared light. 

“Augh!” he shrieked, trying to shield with his fists.  “My eye!  I can't close it!  Sto--”

Thwack!

Cooper drove his bat straight into Jerry’s armor-plated gut.  The crustacean hybrid doubled over with a pained oof, clutching his midsection.  Cooper didn’t let up, just kept swinging.

Jerry hit the ground hard after two hits and curled up as more kept coming.  “Stop, stop!” he cried.  “I give, I give!”

Cooper didn’t seem to hear.  Just kept swinging.

“I-- I think he’s down now,” said Xeno.  “Maybe you should--”

“Cooper!” Sabrina shouted.  She was holding her nose, trying to stem the flow of blood.  “Lay off him, okay?  He’s giving up already.  God.”

“Alright, babe, alright,” said Cooper.  “I got it, just chill.”

Jerry was openly weeping at this point.  No tears, as his stalk eyes didn’t seem capable of that, but his body was wracked with the all-out sobbing. 

“I want to--*gasp*--go hooome,” he moaned. 

“Yeah yeah,” said Cooper.  “First, you're going straight to the police to face what you did here.”  He pulled out his phone to call for a pickup along with several pairs of zip cuffs.  “Justice is served, a-hole.”

Jerry doubled down on the crying, which started making it hard for Nick to watch.  He turned away from the sad spectacle only to realize that none other than Monsieur Étranger was leaning against the railing beside him, casual as ever.  Nick involuntarily sprung three feet in the air out of shock. 

“Most excellent,” said Mr. E.  “I knew you could handle this.”

“Jeez dude, don't sneak up on people when they're still on edge,” Nick said, clutching his pounding heart.  “Where even were you during that whole fight?”

“Apologies, I thought my intentions and whereabouts were obvious.  You see, the Knights of Humanity sadly could not be joining us tonight as they encountered some… vehicular difficulties on the way here.  Fortunately, this means that we will not be having to share credit for our accomplishment with any uninvited guests.  I was simply assisting in the way I thought best.”

“Okay.  Alright then.”  Nick took a second to steady his breathing.  He looked down again at Cooper, who was putting away his phone.  At Sabrina, who was leaning against the wall and working her way through a pack of tissues.  At Mr. E., who was suddenly no longer next to him but down with the others and surveying the scene. 

“You know, I think we pulled together pretty well here,” Nick said over the open commlink, a smile creeping into his voice.

“Hell yeah, little brah,” said Cooper.  “Just wait ‘til we get our ratings for this, we’re qualified badasses now.  We did awesome.“

The distant rotors of the Association pickup chopper thudded over the surrounding cityscape, signaling a wrap on the current job.

“Yeah,” Nick echoed to himself, “We did awesome.”[/spoiler]

[Cloak]

Excellent chapter, Xeno.

Although, Jerry is practically begging for a "Ben and Jerry's" joke somewhere. . . .

[NickDaGriff]

CHAPTER FIVE

[spoiler]
About an hour later, the gang had reconvened at the warehouse, awaiting their after-action review.  The Association had been monitoring the entire affair through satellite and local CCTV cameras, so a preliminary report could be expected fairly soon.  Full debriefings would generally take place later, if the situation demanded it.

The warehouse roof was slid part way open from the middle so that they could get a signal inside through the faraday cage, a sometimes inconvenient leftover from the previous occupants.  Nick was perched on a crossbeam in the warehouse rafters when they received the unfortunate news.

“Six out of ten?!  How in the hell did we rate six out of ten?!”

“Ugh, keep it down Cooper,”said Sabrina, nursing her forehead with an icepack.  “My head is still killing me.”

Nick groaned in annoyance as he skimmed through the actual text on his bracer’s display.  ...Debatably excessive uses of force, it said.  Abandoning teammates...  ...Willful and accidental damage to civilian and private organization property.

Nick had to reread that last bit several times with context to make sure it meant what he thought it did.  Yup.  They were deducting points for interfering with the Knights.

To be fair, the Knights were authorized to operate here.  Specist ****s that they were, they were still specist ****s with a government paramilitary contract in this area.  Some old sympathetic military contacts of Louis Cannon's had pulled strings to make the arrangements.  So long as the Knights played by the rules, everyone else had to play nice as well.  Not an ideal setup, if you weren't human.

He could still argue self-defense, Nick figured.  It was perfectly valid.  The thought of how close that Knight had come to impaling him still gave him chills.  Hence, why he was perched up on this I-beam about thirty feet up off the ground.  The height gave a certain sense of security.  Distance from the arguing below helped too.

A loud smash echoed off the walls, giving the gryphon a start.  Looking down, he saw Cooper’s beer bottle shattered on the ground near his workbench, lying in a puddle of about half of its original contents. 

“Oh, come on,” Nick growled.  He hopped off the beam and swooped down to face Cooper, hackles raised.

“Cooper!” he yelled.  “You do not throw things in here!”  He waved a paw towards the towering construction he’d been laboring in earlier at the back of the warehouse.  “I’m working on delicate stuff here that doesn’t need to be smashed or soaked in beer.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Cooper.  “If you put half the effort into the fight that you did on that… that whatever, then maybe we’d have a decent rating.”

This took Nick aback.  He wasn’t expecting a backlash in that direction, and it stole the words from his beak.  “Wha-- I… I did…”

“Then how come I was the only one fighting that big ugly, huh?  Where was everyone else?”

“S-supporting you!  Everything anyone did back there was to give you the best possible shot!”

“Yeah, and you did such a good job, didn’tcha?”

“We did fine, even though you rushed us in there without any prep time!”

“So this is my fault now?  I don't remember being the one running away with his tail between his legs!”

Nick mostly bit back a snarl, suddenly aware that his claws were scraping the smooth concrete floor. 

“You wanna go?”  Cooper unhooked his breastplate and tossed it aside, revealing just the black turtleneck underneath.  He thumped his muscular chest twice with a fist and spread his arms wide.  “You, me, right here, right now.  Bring it.”

Nick winced, looking away sheepishly.  He did his best to relax his paws, and his claws slid back into their concealed position. 

“Knew it,” Cooper muttered.  “Pussy.”

Nick stared into the distance, feeling utterly paralyzed.  He didn't want to hurt Cooper.  He really didn't.  But Cooper was making it really hard, and had no idea what to say anymore.

“I feel I must agree with our feline companion,” said Monsieur Étranger, apparently relaxing against Nick’s workbench, arms folded across his chest.  “You are quite out of line here, Monsieur Caldwell.”

“You stay out of this, bro.”

“Should I?  I was under the impression that I was part of the team that you were just making accusations towards.”

“That's not--”

“Shut up!” Sabrina called out, loudly enough for everyone to pause and look at her.  She exhaled a long, shuddering breath in the following silence, pressing the ice pack against her temple.  “I am going to go lay down on the couch up front, and if I hear one more word about this I swear to god I will liquefy every brain in range.  Got it?  Got it?  Okay.”

With that, she strode to the door leading to an outcropping of offices attached to the front of the building, opened it, and slammed it shut behind her.  Nick could just make out a muffled, pained, “Owww” from the other side immediately after.   

Cooper shot a contemptuous glare at Nick.  With a rude hand gesture, he turned and stalked toward the front entrance.  He only made it about two steps before walking into Mr. E.’s outstretched hand, holding Cooper’s discarded breastplate.

“I believe you dropped this,” said Mr. E.

Cooper ripped it from his grasp without a word and continued out the door.  Seconds later, four tires screeched their displeasure against the asphalt.

Nick continued staring into space for several minutes, just trying to comprehend how it had gone so bad so quickly.  When he finally came back to the present, he was alone.

Cooper’s bottle was still lying in pieces in front of his workbench.  Nick sighed, and glided across the warehouse to fetch a broom and dustpan.

As he swept up the clinking glass shards, he began humming to himself, which eventually turned into singing.

I look around here and I want to cry
I feel like the world is passing me by
And I just can't help but wonder
Will my talents ever shine?
And is it a curse I'm under
To fail every try?

The gryphon set down the broom and dustpan, and hopped up on his workbench.  He continued:

I signed up to be a hero
Helping every citizen
All I’ve ever wanted in my life
Is to aid the innocent
But my future’s going nowhere at this rate of speed
There's gotta be something better
Something better
There's gotta be something better than this for me

 He picked up a crescent wrench and tossed it back and forth from paw to paw, singing:

There's gotta be something better than this
I know there's so much more that I can be
And I know this life I'm living can’t be my destiny
There's gotta be something better
Something better
There's gotta be something better than this for me

Nick set down the wrench and jumped down to finish sweeping the last bit of glass, and sang:

There's something better than this out there for me...

“There is always a future in music,” came a French-accented voice, causing Nick to nearly stumble over his own paws. 

The gryphon froze in embarrassment at being caught; he’d been sure no one was there.  The self-consciousness began immediately eating away at him inside.  Couldn't even bring himself to make eye contact.

“Apologies, was I interrupting?  I will see myself out.”

Nick waited until he heard the door open and shut, then collapsed with a groan. 

<Well, it's not like you were totally quiet about it,> said Sabrina through a thoughtspeak channel.

Nick buried his face in his paws.  “How do they do that?” he mumbled. 

<I’m literally psychic, remember?  No idea what his deal is though.>

“Right.”  Nick got up and paced his way over to the rack that held his bags.  He pressed the button to close the warehouse roof and hit the air before it shut.  The night was still young, and he needed to get away from here and blow off some steam.  Undercity was just the place to do it.

*      *      *

“Hey Viktor, we're going out for drinks tonight, want to come with?”

No, of course I wouldn't, thought Viktor O’Dennis.  I would rather drink bleach than be forced to socialize with you shallow, simple excuses for colleagues.  Out loud, however, he responded, “M-maybe later.”  He attempted a friendly smile, warping his face into something nervous and slightly off-putting.  “I-I-I'm closing the lab tonight, and I just wanted to look over a few last results.”

Viktor’s colleague--was it Mike?  Brian?  Daryl?  He could never keep their names straight--nodded understandingly.  “Okay, umm…  Sure thing.  Just don’t be a stranger, okay?  Seeya.”

The other scientist, whatever his name was, left the room through the lab’s sliding glass door.  Viktor let out a sigh of relief and let his clenched left fist relax around the copy of the key he was holding.

Fifteen minutes later, when he was sure everyone else had left, he bolted up from his seat and headed for the interior lab.  There, the containment vault sat in the middle of a stainless-steel room, a vertical chrome cylinder surrounded by inches of bulletproof glass. 

Viktor unlatched the glass case, inserted his personal key along with the copied key into the cylinder and turned both at the same time.  It was quiet for a tense moment.  However, Viktor was confident that the alarm would not go off.  He'd done an impeccable job temporarily shutting down the security measures.  Several seconds passed, and there was a quiet whirring noise accompanied by the clicks of internal tumblers sliding open.  Viktor grinned, genuinely this time, but still no less off-putting. 

The cylinder split along four lengthwise seams, unsealing with a hiss.  Pale mist billowed forth, pooling at the bottom of the case.  Rays of the palest blue light peeked through as the four sections separated, blossoming open to reveal a gently incandescent orb on a pedestal at its center.  It was powder blue, whole sections lit from within, and not much bigger than a baseball.  Relatively unassuming, but oh, so powerful.  If only those fools would recognize it.

No matter.  Viktor recognized it, and he was going to take his creation for the test run it deserved.  Maybe even make some money along the way.  This access wasn’t being logged, and no one was scheduled to use it for over a week, so no one was going to miss it for a short time.  Viktor had thought this through.  He was a genius, after all.   

He unceremoniously snatched the orb from its resting place, stuffing it and a foot of ribbon cable that trailed from it into his coat pocket.  There was a newfound sense of purpose in his stride as he closed up and hastily exited the labs.  He would show them. 

They would all see.



---

Source song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMgclhlpwb0
[/spoiler]