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A Geeky Gryphon's Origins

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

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! :D

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.

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