Empire-City of Sin (Black_Out and Sardonyx)

[Black_Out]

The intense thump of loud raucous music filled the air, pouring out a blaze of rage from twin speakers upon a fast moving vessel that skittered across the waves. The speedy sleek schooner of dark steel and aluminum lifted off the water, smashing back down into the waiting embrace of the rolling sea upon which it rode. A lone shadowy figure piloted the vessel as it plowed through the water at a break neck reckless pace. Plastic bundles were strapped to the floor and covered with a waterproof black tarp that rippled in the wind. More drugs were on their way into Empire City to feed the hungering addicts and create some new ones. Yet another shipment of the designer club drug Euphoria was bound to wreak havoc and like usual, no one cared. Well, almost no one.

The image spun and twisted away, blurred vision gaining focus as it turned out over the waters that led towards the restless city of Empire. A place that chewed up and spit out the meek. The warped visage of the moon reflected off the rolling abyssal waves that churned endlessly upon the surface of the deeply polluted waters of the bay. Shimmering patches of oil waltzed and wandered about the surface of the undulating dance floor offered by the shifting sea's heights. They joined hands as sparkling kaleidoscope colored pools merged into one, then split apart as the waves guided their swaying motions to new partnerships. Bits of foam, both born from greasy chemical clouded water and by the hand of men bobbed upon the surface of the shifting tides. They grew thicker as the bright flickering neon lights of the immense city shone out over the fringes of those violent waters that lapped their greetings upon the welcoming density of the concrete docks.

The subtle sound of the waves splashing upon rustic old tankers that sat next to newer pristine versions that reflected their past glory contaminated a portion of the docks. Massive cargo crates of sea rusted metal sat in stacked piles upon stretches of dense, old, and uneven concrete ground. Towering cranes groaned with effort as they swung those hardened bulky containers about. The clamoring voices of workers passed shouted direction into the air as the contents of those enormous crates were drawn from ship to shore and shore to ship. To another end privately owned boats in a myriad of shapes and styles shifted upon the rolling waters from the places they were tethered too. Here too the boats were segregated into a structure that mirrored the various castes and worth of their owners. Smaller vessels nestled together, fishing skiffs and modest crafts that could entertain a weary soul for a day greatly outnumbered the larger yachts. Those behemoths though had room to breath. Arranged separately, secured from the peasantry by gates and guards and kept in a gleaming condition as if they had just rolled out of the factory that morning.

Darting past the docks the rising foundations of the city beckoned the exploring lens inward. Streets of worn bumpy cobblestone led from the docks briefly before being swept beneath cracked blackened asphalt roads. Narrow alleys stabbed their darkness at the edges of their heavier traveled and wider counterparts. A cavalcade of roaring black and chrome bikes swerved in and out of traffic as they emerged from the tightened outlet of one such vein. The pack of joyriding thugs let the roars of their untamed spirits sound from the engines of the noise polluting machines that they straddled. The bright yellow flare of a bullet leaving the muzzle of a gun and the accompanying explosion of its firing rose up over the engines as yet another drive by shooting spilled blood and chaos into the night. But there was more to see in this rotten and dark city where crime had long been festering for years and spreading like a plague with each passing generation.

Up a red freckled brick wall that belonged to a buzzing strip club the wandering gaze of the lens flew, leaping into the air and leaving the tightly clustered stone and mortar buildings with their storm tattered shingled peaked roofs behind. The sight of the monoliths that nestled together in the center of the city dominated and demanded attention. These glistening towers of commerce and luxurious penthouse apartments were born of wealth and influence and selfishly served those needs alone. They were center pieces to the posh shops and highly acclaimed restaurants of the city that fell under their protective looming shapes. Here at least a modicum of order thrived and existed in the center of the surrounding chaos that plagued the great city. From perches upon these modern day feats of architectural wonder streaks of intensely colored light blasted upwards into the darkened wafting clouds that mingled above the towering sky scrapers. The wide and bright rays swung like a pendulums arms, warning away the nightly travels of planes that came and went from the flattened landscape of the vast international airport outside of the gigantic city.

Neon glows, flashing lights, and blinking signs scattered the light of the rainbow throughout the sprawling winding city avenues. The roads spread like a maze, signs and bright lights pointing bustling traffic patterns in random directions that no stranger to this patchwork hell of pavement could make rhyme or reason of. Humble cars stood in silent protest as road warriors zipped in and out of lanes. They fought for turf as if every square inch of the streets was a battle ground to be conquered and claimed. The flashing lights of police cars and the accompanying wail of their sirens wormed their way through the stifling traffic. There was always something seedy or violent taking place, more often then not by the time they arrived they were left to deal with the mess.

Bulky and white as ivory an ambulance sounded it's desperate horn as tires slid up over the curb and pounded across the cracked sidewalk. Pedestrians out to partake in the abundant plethora of options that the mystery of the night offered up scattered, granting passage to the frantically driven ambulance. It's tires hammered back down onto the road as it flung itself across a red lit intersection. Brakes slammed and tires screeched as the vehicle deftly muscled it's way towards the emergency wing of the Ladies Grace Hospital. That expansive building's domain claimed two whole blocks of land for itself, laying further claim over a third that served as containment for all of it's parking necessities.

The wild wheels of the ambulance screamed to a halt as it arrived under the flood of yellow lights at the bustling emergency entrance to the hospital. Back doors flung open as blood speckled baby blue clad attendants hopped out and quickly drug an occupied stretcher out in their wake. The wheels extended and with a protesting squeak the tiny rubber tires were turned towards the parting doors of glass that led into the halls of her Ladies Grace. "Get out of the way!" A voice from one of the strapping attendants cried as he waved an arm frantically. "Justicar coming through! Hold that elevator!" The words fled and faded away as the revealing lens turned downward and plunged into the darkness waiting beneath a smeared and ragged set of roadside sewer grating.

Wide grey concrete tunnels were moved by in a frenzied blur of spinning crazed motion. The stains left by the surges of waste that washed through the complex like tidal waves were barely illuminated by the motes of light that existed in the underbelly of the metropolis. The dank filth ridden waters that surged along guided the lens now. They splashed over ledges, falling into basins where other tubes collected. Plunging downward again through wider tubes that spiraled their contents along curving paths the eye was further led. The faint blue and yellow glow of the moon shown in the quickly approaching distance, illuminating the shape of a large grate that had been bent wide open by some immeasurable force. Through the stout grating the liquid waste of the city blasted out, leaving plastic and debris clumped in mass about the slick pried apart bars that the waters rushed past.

The buzzing din of insects emerged as the churning foam coated dark waters of the pool of waste was moved away from by the onward travels of the weaving viewfinder. Deep greasy trash ridden waters gave way to shallower basins beyond the drainage bleeding out of the city. The ground rose up and dictated their meandering paths through the low lying treacherous bogs that owned this inhospitable stretch of land beyond the city. Twisting roots and limbs of cypress trees and locust varieties climbed upwards out of the mounds of thickly weeded soil and puddles of water turned into stagnant ichor. Chirping crickets blended their symphony with the unsettling drone like buzzing of mosquitoes. The thumping bass was provided by the rambling orchestration of croaking frogs and toads that lurked hidden in the darkened expanses of the murky swamp land. A single orange glow of flickering flames called for attention now. It's bright warmth was like a beacon in the darkness. The lens swung towards the sparsely wooded mound of earth that the flames illuminated and it's razor sharp focus narrowed upon that mostly barren stretch of small stable land.

The maddening pace slowed immediately, as if the unseen exploration was hesitant with fear as the gazing lens advanced at a wobbly crawl. Wooden pallets and an old rusted out yellow engine hood from a cab were leaned together. Mud cemented in place these and other forgotten and discarded sheets of junk. They formed a piss poor shelter, one from which an imposing and large darkened scaly presence could be seen seated beneath. The ridged tail of the reptilian beast laid in a slow lazy curve along its side as the warmth of the fire barely reached the cold blooded killer. Sharp and dangerous claws ripped and shredded away at a still twitching and wriggling catfish that it's jaws salivated over. Teeth like knives tore chunks from the raw meal of scum dwelling fish. Dim yellow eyes narrowed and focused on the squishy snack that it would make quick work of. The gulping swallows of the Killer Komodo let out a gurgled pained sound as the ache from his ribs, a little reminder of his tangle with that hero called Justicar, brought his crackled lips to form a cruel smirk.

The lens spun inward, drawn towards the vortex of the mutated creature's narrowed yellow eye. Darkness soon swamped the lens as it's sight was swallowed up by the blackness of the Killer Komodo's pupil. Hazed lights and features quickly emerged and soon began to take shape as draped ebony curtains hid the walls of a room and made it's expanse seem endless. The brilliant contrast of a light blue table cloth embroidered with a swirl of strange white symbols around it's perimeter stood out like the full moon in the pinpoints of mellow light that rose from several candles arranged upon the table. Long pale fingers adorned in archaic rings hovered over a foggy crystalline sphere that was settled near the figure of a woman in the darkness from whom those hands belonged. Her features flickered in the shadows that played through the chamber and as her vision ended her eyes resumed their more modest light blue hue.

 

[Sardonyx]

‘This city is just too damn big,’ Major Power thought to herself as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop with the velvety cloak of night to shroud her movements from sight. She ran with the stealthy grace of a panthress on the hunt, hunting for what this god forsaken city had too much of; wicked, hard hearted criminals who preyed upon the weak mostly to deny the fact that they themselves were mostly powerless in their lives. She sprang from the roof of a tall tenement building, falling through the crisp night air that toyed with her fluttering blond hair like a lover’s idle hand. She landed lightly atop a defunct firehouse, a frown curling her lips down at the corners.

‘Empire City’s Bravest’ the fire department’s semi-official motto sprang to mind out of habit. She tossed the thought out of her head as the street version of that motto played through her mind, ‘Empire City’s Corrupt-ess’. So many crimes had been covered up with am ‘accidental’ fire folks joked that a Fire Insurance policy was a better get rich quick scheme then the lotto. It saddened her to have such thoughts running through her head, so she lost herself in the pulse and rhythm of the city as she patrolled it looking for something to stop, fight and end.

In a dark, forgotten alley, Major Power found what she was looking for. A couple and a gunman squared off against each other. From her perch atop a roof, the scene seemed clear; villainy was afoot. She unzipped her costume so that she almost, but not quite, had her overly ample bosom spilling out of it and felt a rush wash through her as she dropped out of the sky, wind wafting over overheated flesh. It gave her goosepimples and made her nipples harden as she readied herself for battle. As planned, her foot caught the gunman’s wrist as she fell to earth, breaking it and making the gun fall from their hand. The woman in the couple screamed and hid behind her man, as the fellow tucked a gun back into his belt.

“Thank yoose, that stupid bitch was crazy! I told her I was leavin’ her fer Lola... I nevah t’ought she’d follow uz?” The Street tough goombah explained to the heroine greatfully. She looked to the gunman, and found it was a woman, now, weeping piteously as she clutched her broken wrist. Major Power replayed things in her head and realized she’d jumped to conclusions in her distracted state and while she did save lives, she didn’t feel like it was a win.

Deflated, feeling defeated, she looked at the ‘love birds’ and said, “beat it,” in a way that implied, ‘before I go and beat you. The couple said no more and ran off while she scooped the hurt woman up in her arms and said, “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re better off without that jerk.” The woman just blubbered and looked up at Major Power dejectedly which made her say, “I’m taking you to the hospital, not the cops.” True to her word she sped through the night and moments later they were at the emergency room. She gave the woman over to the orderlies explaining she was the victim of domestic abuse and needed both physical and psychiatric care. The woman startednto object, but relented when she realized that Major Power somehow had figured out the truth and her relief overwhelmed her shame.

About then Justicar was wheeled in with great commotion and circumstance. Major Powers was desperate to find out what happened to him, but neither of her alter egos were a good choice for getting involved in things so she was stumped for a moment. ‘Why couldn’t I have gotten psychic powers?’ She lamented for the umpteenth time today, but spying a nurse coming out of a door marked ‘staff only’ an idea formed in her head. She acted without hesitation and quickly changed in the room into a spare nurse’s uniform that fit her a little snugly about the bust and ass, but she figured that would only help keep folks from paying to much attention to her face. Then, joining a crowd of medical professionals racing after Justicar’s gurney, she found her way to his room and listened in to all that was said. As the doctors started leaving the room to order various tests, she lingered behind making a show of checking monitors and bedpans and such.

When they were finally alone Daphne went to Sampson’s bedside and quipped, “you could have just ASKED for a sponge bath and I would have said yes, Jay-bear.” Though her tone was light and playful she actually feared for the worst. She knew from personal experience very little on this earth could crack Justicar’s Power Armor, so for him to be in such a state he must have run into something Big and Bad(tm). She leaned over to check and see if he was conscious, her face a mask of tender concern and hardly contained rage.

 

[Black_Out]

The steady pinging beep sounding from the monitor helped to alleviate some measure of concern as it's soft rhythmic tone suggested that Justicar was in a stable state. A long tube with a crystalline looking fluid suspended overhead in a clear bag dripped some manner of medical assistance through a needle securely tapped around his bared forearm. His breathing was shallow though, and there was a pale and sickly complexion that caused dimples of moisture to cling to his chilled body.

It was hard to not overhear a doctor outside in the relative calm of the hallway discussing the scenario with an attending nurse. "That, thing, the Komodo, the poison has set in heavily. Once that first bag is drained, give him an hour to let the antidote work then begin the second dose. Keep a close eye, and if there is any shift in his condition make sure to page me immediately. We're not going to be the ones that let one of Empire's finest hero's die on us." His voice, though sternly business like was tinged with obvious concern as his softly spoken words echoed from the otherwise quiet hallway and into the room.

His paled lips parted with a soft coughed up breath as Justicar found the muscles of his face tightening in agony. Pained eyes struggled to open fully as he needed a moment to let her softly spoken quip register into his clouded consciousness. "H..hey there, my sweet little lollipop." Despite his pained and exhausted state Samson couldn't help but find the modicum of strength to offer a rebuttal along with a pain twinged smile. It was an amusing game they had been playing on and off for years now, seeing how could come up with more ludicrous yet adorable nick names shared in private moments.

The athletic and muscular toned hero tried to settle his hands against the railings of the bed and push himself upward in an effort to not look so pathetic towards her. His arms strained though and the normally resilient Justicar found the poison clouding his blood stream and attacking his body made him feel like jello as he sunk back into the bed with a defeated groan. The movement caused the drawn up blanket over his body to slide away, revealing the heavy cotton bandages that were wrapped in layers upon layers around his chiseled abdomen. Their absence revealed a putrid looking mix of pale and darker purple blotches that peaked out from beneath the fringes of the bandages.

His hand turned faintly and his fingers traced over the back of Daphne's hand as he looked over to her and noted the anger and concern in her emotionally torn face. "You know, if I knew you'd play dress up for me, I would of gotten.." His words sputtered as he put his fist to his mouth and coughed lightly. "..I would of gotten beaten up, a long time ago." His body buckled as he quaked with a weak and light shake of laughter. His arm fell away as he slumped back into the sturdy embrace of the none to comfortable hospital bed and turned his gaze towards his visiting angel.

"Don't do what I know, your thinking of doing." His face turned into a taut and stern countenance and the tone of his words reflected that look. "Don't go after him. He's, he's gotten bigger." His fingers began to absently trail away from her hand as he found his eyes fluttering once more as the toll of his worn out body began to drag him back towards unconsciousness. "I'll, be alright. Don't, go after him, not, without me." His head turned and sunk into the pair of pillows bundled beneath as his eyes slid back shut as his body sought out it's much needed rest. The clacking feet of the attending nurses red croc laden feet could be heard as she approached the open door to Justicar's room as the hero fell back into slumber.

Out in the depths of the swamp the Killer Komodo had finished with his measly meal and tossed the carcass of it's remnants into the flames dancing before him. Morning was approaching and he knew he would be hungry again soon. The constant changes that had been metamorphosing his once human body had plagued him with a never ending, insatiable appetite. Still though, the vestige of his mind and the memory of the life he once lived as an electrician working for Empire Global Power Corp remained in grasp. He hadn't given in completely to the primal urges that clawed away at his will, a by product of the serum and genetic manipulations that he was ruthlessly exposed to during an experimentation that he barely could recount anymore.

 

[Sardonyx]

As much as the steady beeping of medical equipment served to calm some of Major Power’s concerns for her long time friend and mentor, hearing the doctor outside his room talk of the potent poisons in Justicar’s system made her all the more grateful that he’d gotten to the help he needed so fast. She’d ask him how later, then kick his ass for not calling on her to back up his play against the killer that had terrorizing the waterfront of late. She took a moment to read the label on the bag dripping its contents into the patient who currently occupied her attention, taking note of what it was and its dosage. ‘I’m going to have to get a hold of some of this... just in case...’ she thought to herself matter of factly, having already decided on what she’d be doing after she left Justicar’s bedside.

Major Power’s focus went from her plants to Justicar when she heard him cough quietly and then tease her back. “Lollipop, eh? That mean you’re well enough to suck on these?” She asked cheekily as she undoes an extra snap or two on her uniform, making it seem like her breasts could come spilling out of it at any moment. She appreciated the fact that Samson couldn't help but try to make her feel like everything was normal and it would all be ok, but at the moment, seeing him so beaten up and struggling with even the smallest movement, she knew he was in a bad way.
Hearing his pained groan made her feel something cold and horrid clawing at her guts as she couldn’t help but warily respect the thing that did this to him. Then she caught sight of the extent of his injuries and her pale skin got a bit whiter as the magnitude of the beat down he’d received was now clear to her.

“Shut the fuck up, Justicar,” Daphne said, but any anger in her tone wasn’t really directed at him or his little jest about dress up play. The shift in her body language and tone was subtle, but to Sampson, someone who knew her so well, it was obvious that she’d went from bad ass, ‘professional’ heroine to something more personal, a friend caring for a friend in need. “Don’t make me lie to you,” she says softly, eyes downcast after hearing his admonitions against taking action on her own. “Bigger check... and nastier...” she said, then she leaned down to kiss his forehead as his eyes closed and his body surrendered to the need for healing sleep.

As the other nurse entered the room Daphne headed to the door as it started to close. She caught it and said, “I’ll fetch another bag of the Anti-venom so we’re ready to administer the 2nd dose in an hour, doctor’s orders. Those are kept...” “... the third set of shelves in the 2nd refrigerated cabinet in room I-2332,” The other nurse offered helpfully to Daphne, accepting her as another of the army of nurses that work in the hospital. Daphne nodded and went off to fetch two bags, one for Justicar and another for herself, just in case she had need of it later. She used her cellphone to summon an Uber and as she waited she looked up information on Komodo dragons.

“Wow... ‘virgin birth’ eh? Hopefully, this is a Guy K-dragon mutant,” Daphne mused aloud as she got into the Uber and gave it the address of a mall nearish her house. Then she scrolled through a few sites, learning of their ability to summon extreme bursts of speed and their superior sense of ‘smell’ that was actually a result of their sense of taste and their odd gait. “Of course, he’s not ‘just’ a Komodo... who knows what he can really do...” she mused aloud as she entered her condo, stripped out of her borrowed uniform and hopped in the shower. She let the hot water scald her skin and give her skin a ruddy glow as it washed away every tension and fear in her leaving only behind only a white hot will to end the threat to all she cared for in Empire City. That, and a plan.

Daphne’s studies on the animal known as the Komodo Dragon, the places where the recent attacks that could be attributed to the new villain preying on the populace of Empire City happened and a hunch or two gave her a sense of the monster’s range. Justicar’s words haunted her, ‘he’s gotten bigger’... how big was ‘bigger’, she wished she could have asked Sampson that, but having seen his wounds and knowing that that all happened through his armor, it gave her a sense of what she was up against. From that, she started making a few plans.

First and foremost, Major Power knew she had to do her best to take out the killing machine fast and from a distance. She smiled as she gazed at Justicar’s last Christmas present to her, a high powered rifle that shot high velocity tranq rounds designed to take out a rhinoceros, and thought to herself, ‘how thoughtful.’ Next, she realized that Killer Komodo’s forte was most likely close range combat, so she made up a nasty surprise to hopefully even the odds if it came to that. Then she packed up her gear in a large dry bag before shrugging a duffle over her shoulder filled with her diving gear. All this she took down to her truck and she made her way to the edge off the ‘hunting range she sussed out for Killer Komodo. Then she stripped off her clothes, leaving herself in a black and white bikini and her purple domino mask as she took her gear from the truck. She got ready, checked her scuba tanks and her personal underwater ‘vehicle’, strapped the dry bag onto her back and then quietly made her way through the swampy water looking for any signs of the monster’s presence or lair.

 

[Black_Out]

The beast known as the Killer Komodo lingered on his little island habitat in the midst of the silent and slow moving waters of the polluted swamp lands where he had taken refuge. Gnarled scaly fingers were busy playing around with an antenna that rose up from a derelict old tube style television that he had salvaged from the junkyard and waste facility that bordered the forsaken marshy habitat. Wires ran from the television that sat a top a dingy and dirty red plastic milk crate. They connected to one of several used car batteries that he had arranged in the usable portion of a busted up set of shelving, another of his reclaimed finds. More wires connected from another battery into the power cord of a dinged up stereo system which had only one good speaker remaining. The music that speaker provided was dulled, but it still reminded him of the little bit of humanity that existed within his ever changing body.

With a hissed out grumble of disgust from his long reptilian lips Eric Handler took a step back from the monitor and took a deep breath to calm his boiling emotions. His sharp nails absently rose up and scratched at the flexible, elongating metal collar around his neck. No matter how much his body had changed, no matter how thick his neck had become that damnable contraption seemed to grow with him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't find a way to free that seemingly unbreakable metal collar from around his neck. Nor could he manage to find a way to get rid of the shackles that still were wrapped about his wrists and ankles. To cover up the noise from the remnants of the chain links that dangled from those shackles he had wrapped the remains of frayed and ruined blankets about them.

He wasn't aware of the dimmest red coloration that pulsed from a small bulb at the very back of the tracking collar secured around his neck. Though it blinked with a steady tempo, the meager glow was never enough to bring him to notice the flashing signal. Just as the man responsible for his new found monstrous appearance had intended. The collar made him feel like a prisoner still, and caused him to reflect on what little memory he still had of the culmination of horrid experiments that had led him here.

He was just a simple electrician that ran his own business and toiled by himself for the most part. Maybe he should of thought it odd when the call came that fateful morning from the Cathedral Corporation. Time's had been difficult though, there was plenty of competition in his field and he certainly needed the money. If he didn't screw it up, a gig like this could set him up with a nice little bump on his resume and maybe even lead to some steadier flow of work. So of course he accepted when they mentioned a word of mouth referral that must of impressed them.

Apparently their normal electrician had come out of the weekend with a case of the Monday's and he was the only one available on such short notice. It was what sounded like a simple job. Renovations were being done on some of the higher levels that had been vacated by a tenant and some conversions needed to be made to accommodate the needs of the new client that was going to move in and take over the floor. He intended to undercut the pay of the man who had called off and work himself until as late as he possibly could. All in an effort to impress himself upon whoever made the decisions on whom they hired. None of that panned out.

Instead he had found himself lured into a trap. He was the perfect target, really. There were very few people he was on friendly terms with. None that he considered close, anyways. His folks, whom he had been out of contact with ever since he left, lived on the other side of the country. His mother was a long suffering drug addict, while his father was a drunkard who was plagued with spells of violence. Eric was more then glad to pack up and leave that all behind and head to the bright neon lights and a promising new start in the big city.

His escort who was responsible for taking him to the floor where he was supposed to be working had him out like a light by the time the elevator doors closed. He had no idea where he was when he woke up from whatever foul concoction that man had injected him with. But he quickly figured out that he was in a place where no good intentions were going to be given birth too. The white walls of his cell, the shackles around his arms and legs, the collar fitted around his neck, and the steel slab of a tilted vertical operating table that he was secured upon were more then enough to unsettle him. In that room, helplessly bound in place was when he met the him, the one calling himself Paradox.

A slab of meat, that is how he was treated. Injections followed by treatments of brutal horror. Samples of his blood and tissue collected on a daily basis. The waves of pain he endured were only to joyfully commented on by the methodical and malicious villain. "Oh, pain is just weakness leaving the body." He would repeatedly say in response to his shrieks of agony. "When there is no weakness left in you, you'll thank me, oh how they'll all thank me." He could barely recall the exact tone of his tormentor, though he remembered that it was a voice distorted by the insidious mask he wore. "Your not the first, you won't be the last, but the world will change because of your selfless sacrifice."

He wasn't sure how long he had suffered at the mad doctor's hands. Couldn't grasp when his body began to change, but he could clearly remember the sickness of it all. Moments like that, well they were borderline impossible to ever really push under the rug. He barely even remembered the moment of his escape. Paradox hadn't realized the levels of strength that his subject had achieved until it was far to late. The chains were snapped and he reclaimed his freedom. Only after a rampage through the hidden bunker of a laboratory where he had been altered. Much to his dismay, the one responsible for his condition wasn't present, so he made do with dismantling the vile doctor's underlings. Most of what remained beyond those recollections were a blur of disorganized imagery and sound. When things had calmed, when his fury was sated and he was far from that hell Eric Handler found himself on the fringes of the swamp, as if instinct itself had brought him there.

The local news flickered amidst the static display of the monitor, then scrolled vertically in a rather disorienting manner until finally with a bit of persistence and aluminum foil the broadcast gained some fuzzy stability. He found himself settling for that meager quality, and the quality of the audio wasn't terrible. It was a much needed connection, something to remind him of the man he was beneath all this shifting, morphing sinew, muscle, and bone. Without it, he worried that he would eventually lose what precious little remained of himself in the depths of his mind. Slumping his haunches against the ground he wrapped his long tail forward, sweeping it across his lap as he watched the local news. They ran a short report, one that made mention of the hero he had always admired prior to his change.

Justicar. He was in recovery, for that he was both glad and sorrowed. He had just intended to steal food from the stalls at the market when the commotion drew the famous vigilante to him. The rage that consumed him when Justicar landed a solid blow to his ribs reminded him all to much of the wrathful violent fits of his father. Having that potential trait passed down, dormant and now awakened by his new form frankly terrified him. Every day he felt as if more of who he was slipped away and was replaced with just the primal need to survive. He tried to find some relaxation in the music as he turned his attentions away from the monitor of the television, letting out a rumbled sigh as he looked about the bleary landscape of his new home.