Conversations while fighting Council Warbots. Lady Blur joins a mission already in progress.
Pains Pleasure: Well if that little shit wants to go farm coke then let him.
Malichi Samson sits back listening and learning some history.
Tiny Doc: When Ban turned away from his old life, as you probably know, he gave most of his liquidated money to Champions. The countries were given their "freedom".
Pains Pleasure: That’s ‘cause he's such a good man.
Tiny Doc: It wasn't about the coke, Sarah. It was always about the money.
Pains Pleasure: But the coke makes the money so he can go do that if he wants.
Tiny Doc: Honestly, Chill doesn't like the drug trade. He'd have sold that off. To be brutal, Chill takes a lot of satisfaction from taking hits on drug lords.
Pains Pleasure: I love getting the COT
Tiny Doc: If you all promise not to tell Chill, I'll tell ya a secret.
Malichi Samson: I don't have any reason to talk to him, I think I've might have seen him once and he spent most of the mission lying down.
Tiny Doc: Nah, Mal. You haven't seen Chill. He and Ban are undercover, right now.
Malichi Samson: Oh, my mistake.
Tiny Doc: Sarah and Lady B, will you two keep the secret?
Pains Pleasure laughs.
Pains Pleasure: Like I don't keep enough already.
Lady Blur: Doc, I keep no secrets from my husband that might affect the Champions.
Tiny Doc: Your husband's Rush, right?
Lady Blur: Um. Yes, Doc.
You have given Keen Insight to Pains Pleasure
Tiny Doc: Um? You don't sound too sure.
Lady Blur: <mockingly> Not sure about my own husband? <grin>
Tiny Doc: <directly to Sarah's personal comm> **She hidin’ something? Cuz she sounded kinda hesitant about sayin’ Rush was her husband.**
Tiny Doc: <aloud> Ah, don't mind me, Lady B. So, anyway...
Pains Pleasure: <tp Tiny> ** I'm not really sure... Hell, I’m not really sure its even her and not a future her like Blur.**
Tiny Doc: What I was sayin’ before... the reason Chill doesn't like the drug trade... his dad was a coke head and abused him. In that regards, he and Ban share a little history.
Malichi Samson: Well that explains why he likes taking hits on drug lords.
Tiny Doc: <to Sarah> **Who's Blur? And what's all this about future her?**
Pains Pleasure: <tp Tiny> ** Blur is Rush’s future self...He's like 6 k old.**
Tiny Doc: <to Sarah> **Six thousand years old? Rush's future self? Wow. Bein’ a hero sounds like it could get confusing.**
Tiny Doc: So, Lady B... why did you answer so hesitantly about Rush being your husband?
Lady Blur: I call my husband Eric... even in costume. Sometimes it's hard to recall the rest of the world thinks of him as a costume and a code name.
Tiny Doc: Oh. I guess that makes sense.
Malichi Samson continues making mental notes while not speaking up.
Tiny Doc: Yeah. Before my parents moved to England, I grew up reading about Patriot, Rush, Red Heat, Mindwalker, and the rest of Champions Southeast. I grew up in South Carolina, but my parents moved us to England when I was 16. I kept up with them until I hooked up with Ban and Chill. <chuckles> For the longest time, I wanted to be Red Heat when I grew up.
Malichi Samson: Sounds like you were a typical kid then, Doc.
Tiny Doc: Yeah. For the most part.
Malichi Samson: What made you decide to become a merc?
Tiny Doc: Well, when I was 19, I was in an accident. I was attending university, in Glasgow, and was working late in the chem labs. Some IRA people decided they'd get back at England for some new legislation and one of their targets happened to be the university in Glasgow.
Malichi Samson: Oh dear....
Tiny Doc: It was kinda strange, though. The IRA rarely hit targets in Scotland.
Malichi Samson: And you got caught in it, I take it.
Tiny Doc: Yeah. The explosion caused a lot of rumbling in the lab I was in. Chemicals were shaken off their racks and ended up getting mixed up on the floor. I was the only person there, so no one knew I needed to be rescued. I was exposed to the chemicals for over 24 hours.
Malichi Samson: Yikes,... That's a bit outrageous!
Tiny Doc: The people that found me thought I was dead.
[NPC]Progenitor Runtime 001: Your time is finished, Pains Pleasure. End. Of. Line.
Lady Blur goes down for the count.
Malichi Samson has given you Resurgence. Malichi Samson has given you Respite.
07-22-2005 01:28:26 Team task completed.
This was followed by yet another mission of rescue from the DE.
[NPC]Professor Lovelethe: I know something of great import!
Following that, the team in part broke up. Medika was called in.
07-22-2005 03:10:02 A new team task has been chosen.
Medika: Recalling Tiny Doc Type something if you don't want a port!
Tiny Doc: SOMETHI...oh, nevermind.
Medika: Hello, Malichi. You've a lot of energy to burn, it seems.
Malichi Samson: Of course I do Medika, I'm a kid.
Medika: <smile> I don't need to worry about your getting plenty of exercise. But I hope you're eating and sleeping well too...?
Malichi Samson: Nope, after all my suit is rather heavy so I get plenty just lugging it around when I wear it, and sleep? what's that? <snickers>
Medika: <tsk>
Malichi Samson: <grins widely> Yes, Medika, I sleep and eat well.
Medika: Good. If you want to get your full height, you want to do just that.
]Malichi Samson: <laughs> Sorry, Medika, but I'm done growing.
Medika: Hm. I don't think so.
Malichi Samson: <blinks> Got some wonder drug that's going to make me hit puberty a second time?
Medika: I check the Champions medical records. I know how old you are. You've a chance at a couple more inches at least. Don't count it out until you're almost 20.
Malichi Samson: Ok I'm 15 and I've had my grow spurts. 2 years ago I was only 4 ft tall
Medika: Were your parents short?
Malichi Samson: Mom is, dad is about my height. Mom is 4'10'.
Medika: <surprised> My. <thoughtfully> Hm.
Malichi Samson: <winks> I'm done growing.
Medika: Could be. I've no call to do a full genotyping on you; it's possible that you are correct. <smile> Time will tell.
Malichi Samson: Oh if I'm annoying you, Medika, just tell me to go play in traffic.
Medika: Malichi, you don't annoy me. I simply marvel at your energy and agility.
Malichi Samson falls down panting.
Malichi Samson: Yeah, but I do run out.
Tiny Doc, who had been wandering around the foyer, rejoins the waiting pair.
Medika: Um. Nice jacket, Doc.
Medika seems suddenly a bit shyer than before.
Tiny Doc: It's the one I used to wear when riding with Ban.
Malichi Samson: <to Tiny>You're still taller then I am. I thought maybe your height was the suit --like me.
Tiny Doc: You're crazy, Mal.
Malichi Samson: Oh well.
Tiny Doc: You're much taller than me. It's why Chill calls me "Shorty".
Malichi Samson: <blinks> Um.... Medika?
Medika: Yes, Malichi?
Malichi Samson: He's taller then me. Maybe I should have you check my eyes for me. I think my glasses aren't strong enough
Medika: How tall do you think you are, Doc? You literally look down on both myself and Malichi.
Tiny Doc: I dunno. I like my armor. It hides my face...especially with how messed up it got.
Malichi Samson: Yeah. You never did finish your story, Doc.
Medika: I – have never seen you. Have you had -- um, plastic surgery?
Tiny Doc: No, Medika. I couldn't afford surgery.
Tiny Doc: How ya like my cape? Chill is gonna have a fit! But he'll get over it. He always lets me get away with stuff.
Malichi Samson: I like it Doc, I would wear one, I just think a cape looks silly on my suit, just doesn't fit the image ya know?
The teen returned to a subject of rather more interest.
Malichi Samson: What happened after they found out. After they found you, I mean.
Tiny Doc: Oh. They found me unconscious, Mal. No one could figure out how I survived, but I did.
Tiny Doc: Ummm... Ms M-m-medika?
Medika: Yes, Doc?
Tiny Doc: Wow. Ban told me you were pretty, but I hadn't noticed...ah...ummm...how cool you look. T-t-that armor is really nice.
Medika: Thank you for thinking so, Doc. I suspect that our armor makes us both feel -- a bit more secure, Doc.
Tiny Doc: Yeah. I guess so, huh?
Malichi Samson: <who has been tossing dice>Bah only one six.
Tiny Doc: Well, I...uh...I gotta get going...ummm...
Malichi Samson: Oh sorry about that, I'll just zone out when people aren't talking to me. <grins>
Tiny Doc slips a piece of paper into Medika's hand.
Tiny Doc: No biggie, Mal. I...uh...I'll catch up to you two later, huh?
Medika smiles a little up at Doc.
Medika: Oh. OK. Doc.
The physician turned back to the teen.
Medika: You build armor, Malichi. Does it make you feel secure -- or just talented.
Malichi Samson: Hmm,... makes me feel intelligent Medika, cause ... well it's what I've used my gift for.... Later Doc,.. sorry ya gotta get going.
Medika: <smiles> I never thought of armor making one feel intelligent. Interesting idea.
Malichi Samson: He's sweet passing you a note like that. <grins> A shame he's not good at hiding things.
Medika: <blushes> I haven't looked at his note. I don't know that it's sweet...
Malichi Samson: Oh come on, Medika. Even I noticed it he's got a crush on you.
Medika: Hush, Malichi. People don't get crushes on me.
07-22-2005 04:10:19 Entering Portal Court.
Medika: Recalling Malichi Samson Type something if you don't want a port!
Medika: Welcome to Portal Corp, Malichi.
Scorching Chill: Yo, short stack! Pull up some carpet and sit.
Malichi Samson: Thanks, Been here once.
The teen perched on the reception counter of the foyer.
Scorching Chill: Yo, babe. How's it hangin?
The teen turned to the tiny armored figure.
Malichi Samson: Short Stack?
Scorching Chill: You heard me.
Malichi Samson: <Archs a brow and shakes his head.> I don't have time to argue over that so I'm not gonna bother.
Medika: <patiently> I am “hanging in there”, Mr. Chill. How have you been?
.
Scorching Chill: So, I got a call tellin’ me you been hangin’ with one of my boys.
Malichi Samson: Yeah, so?
Scorching Chill: Look, short stack, don't make me drag you off that counter. Get over here where I can see you.
Malichi Samson: <smirks> How about I just hover to the ceiling where you can't reach me, shortie?
Medika: <gently> Gentlemen, it does not harm to be polite.
Malichi Samson: I know, Medika, but he started it.
Scorching Chill: Shorty? Do you have any clue who you're talkin’ to, kid?
Malichi Samson: Do I care?
Scorching Chill: You'd better care.
Malichi Samson: I'm only stopping this bickering for one reason and that's Medika.
Scorching Chill: Yo, babe. Relax a bit. Ya ain't gotta be prepared for battle in here.
Medika: Please tell us why this is important, Mr. Chill.
Scorching Chill: The kid has loose lips. That's why.
Malichi Samson: Excuse me?
Scorching Chill: Not you, short stack. Tiny.
Medika: Tiny Doc? What harm could he possibly have done?
Malichi Samson: Um, yeah, what she said.
Scorching Chill: Loose lips sink ships, babe.
Medika: I know the saying, but how does it apply here?
Scorching Chill: Cuz I gots a lot of shit to protect, babe.
Medika: If you say so, sir. Still -- can you tell us what you'd like us to do in the matter?
Scorching Chill: I ain't nothin’ like the Banshee. That boy don't care about his life before now. Scorching Chill: I wanna know if Tiny said anything he shouldn't have.
Malichi Samson: Ok, like what, per se.
Medika: You implied that he did... not that he might have.
Scorching Chill: Cuz I know the kid. Now, fess up.
Medika: He has said -- nothing inappropriate to me.
Malichi Samson: Or me, that I'm aware of.
Medika: <softly> But then I've talked very little with him, I'm afraid.
Scorching Chill: Yeah, Mr. A.D.D. I can imagine that you caught on to all of three sentences, huh?
Medika: Mr. Chill, you are being very cryptic.
Malichi Samson: Um excuse me but I don't really care for your tone with me, even though I might be a kid, I can pretty much bet that I have no idea what you are referring to.
Scorching Chill: Look, I'm gonna say it straight - pay no attention to Tiny. He's just a kid and still wet behind the ears.
Medika: He looks to be a man at least my age, Mr. Chill. I do not consider myself a kid anymore.
Malichi Samson: And you expect your attitude to make him stronger, I'm betting?
Scorching Chill pulls off his helmet and reveals the face of a man in his 40s.
Scorching Chill: Babe, you're a kid and short stack here...well, you ain't even wet behind the ears yet.
Malichi Samson: <shrugs> So you're a old man, so what?
Scorching Chill: Yeah, short stack. Call me old again and you'll find out just what an old man can do.
Medika: I see a great deal of life in my profession, sir. But I grant you that there is much I've yet to learn. However, Tiny Doc seems a good and competent man.
Malichi Samson: Medika, I'm sorry but I'm not listening to this grump. He might know Doc better then we do.... But his attitude towards me has gotten on my nerves.
Scorching Chill: On your nerves? Kid, you don't know who I am, do you?
Malichi Samson: As I said before Shortie, Do I care?
Medika: You are an associate of the Bansidhe's; that's pretty much what we know, Mr. Chill.
Scorching Chill: "Shorty"?
Malichi Samson: Yes Shortie.
Malichi Samson: <kneeling down> There. I'm your height now.
Scorching Chill: Yeah, kid, you're achin’ for a breakin’.
Medika: What does height have to do with this discussion?
Malichi Samson puts up his duke.
Malichi Samson: Come on, come on, I'll fight ya on my knees.
Medika: <trying for the voice of sanity> Is this relevant to why Doc seems to think himself short? When he's probably as tall as Joe or Bubba?
Scorching Chill: Cuz the kid is short. That's that.
Malichi Samson: Height has it all to do with this discussion; you're calling me short, when I'm taller then you
Medika: What do you mean by short, Mr. Chill? I think there may be a difference of definition going on here.
Malichi Samson: And I have a name, Chill; it's Malichi; I would prefer you show me a bit of respect in using it
Scorching Chill: Yeah, short stack. I'm slightly shorter than you. Wanna see how fast you become shorter than me?
Malichi Samson: Look, gramps, I can out move you any day.
Scorching Chill: Respect, short stack? Like I said, I ain't like the Banshee. You want my respect? You gotta earn it. Boy, I'll drop you so fast you'll beg to know what happened.
Malichi Samson: Fine I'll earn it, I'm guessing with your attitude I have to beat you right?
Scorching Chill: Oh, now you think you can beat me? Wait'll this damn city clears my security clearance and drops my power inhibitors.
Malichi Samson: I might be able to, I might not. But I'm tired of listening to your attitude towards me just ‘cause I'm a kid.
Scorching Chill: And, babe, height ain't nothin’ when you're lookin’ up from the floor. Your big Bubba and Krrrrrrraaaaazy Joe ain't all that and a bag of chips.
Malichi Samson: I've watched Joe; you wouldn't be able to touch him.
Scorching Chill: You might wanna ask the Banshee about that, short stack.
Malichi Samson: Use my name, damn it, otherwise this conversation will go no where.
Medika: Sir, Joe, Bubba, Bansidhe -- and Malichi here -- are all formidable in their own ways. Please don't talk against them to me.
Scorching Chill: I ain't talkin’ against them. As for you, short stack, I'll use your name when you prove it's worth using. ‘Til you actually do something to prove yourself...yeah, you might wanna pour your own coffee.
Malichi Samson: I've asked once, I'll ask once more. What, in your mind, would prove me worthy?
Scorching Chill: Ah. Alright. Lemme see...
Malichi Samson taps his foot while waiting.
Malichi Samson: Man, you think slow, gramps.
Scorching Chill: How about over three hundred confirmed assassinations? Or maybe takin’ out fourteen drug cartels, top to bottom?
Medika represses a shudder.
Malichi Samson: Well, there is a problem with that, I'm not a killer. And taking down drug cartels? Please -- I've worked 3 here, as it is. Though for someone of your stature my small accomplishments won't mean squat, and, really, I don't care.
Medika looks concerned and, perhaps, a little distressed.
Malichi Samson looks over at Medika.
Malichi Samson: Sorry, Medika, but I don't deal with attitudes well, as you can see.
Medika: <quietly> What purpose can be accomplished in insulting each other, no matter who started it?
Scorching Chill: Not a killer? And you've "worked" three drug cartels?
Scorching Chill laughs.
Scorching Chill: Kid, are you makin’ the presumption that I'm a hero?
Medika: Mr. Chill, heroes aren't measured by quantity but by quality.
Scorching Chill: I'm a mercenary. I'm here for one reason - to pay back a favor.
Malichi Samson: To me, an assassin is nothing short of what I fight day in and day out.
Scorching Chill: Yeah, yeah. You say that the next time a big, bad drug lord is taken down and ask who it was that nailed him. Since I've taken up residence here, I've traveled out of the city and taken out six. You heroes and your war on crime. HA! You don't know what war is, short stack.
Medika: We can be glad of the fact that someone -- no matter who -- has put a limit on such evil. Thank you, Mr. Chill.
Malichi Samson: To be honest, I could careless how many you've taken down. Did you make them pay for what they did? No, you gave them eternal peace or damnation, however you want to look at it.
Scorching Chill: Oh! I am so sorry, short stack! You are sooooo right! I should've let them live and kept torturing people and poisoning the people you're tryin to save! You are soooooo right!
Malichi Samson: Why not save their lives and make them have to eat though food though a straw the rest of their life? That would be better retribution in my eyes.
Scorching Chill: Because, whether you realize it or not, a drug lord in prison is still a drug lord.
Malichi Samson shakes his head.
Malichi Samson: Did I say prison? No what I mean was hurt them to the point to where they can't even function even more... but have to live still and suffer.
Scorching Chill: The fact that you made him eat through a straw only means that, sooner or later, your number is up.
Scorching Chill: Yo, babe? The Banshee ever tell you what turned him all goodie-goodie?
Medika: Are you speaking to me, Mr. Chill? <nods> I've heard some of the story, yes, Mr. Chill.
Malichi Samson shakes his head with a mumbled “Bah” and sits back down thinking it pointless to try and talk to him.
Scorching Chill: Would you care to relate it to the snot nose here?
Medika: I did not think it mine to relate, sir. I've been in Bansidhe's mind.
Scorching Chill: Alright, fine. You ever heard of Patriot, kid?
Malichi Samson: Who hasn't?
Scorching Chill: You know how many there have been?
Malichi Samson: 4
Medika: <whispers> Six.
Malichi Samson looks at Medika slightly wide eyed.
Scorching Chill: Bzzzt! Both of you are wrong! Tsk tsk. Med, thought you'd been in Ban's head? Guess you didn't find out everything.
Medika: I try not to, sir.
Medika blushes in distress.
Scorching Chill: Even now, there are over two dozen.
Malichi Samson shakes his head.
Malichi Samson: Yeah, right.
Scorching Chill: Lemme tell ya a little story.
Scorching Chill: The first Patriot was the original. He was still in the limelight when I was a kid. He retired when I was about seven. A few years later, his grandson donned the costume and took up the mantle - as Patriot II. Patriot II having been the one to first form and lead Champions Southeast. Patriot II, though, decided he'd take a nice little vacation...and is still on said vacation - training the others.
Patriot III was a bit of a failure. Patriot IV was the one who led the Champions Southeast team for so long, until retiring. Patriot V, as you know, was recently killed.
Malichi Samson: Ok, so there are others being trained in case something happens to the current Patriot, I can believe that, but there being over two dozen -- I can't believe that.
Scorching Chill: Remember the Champions Southeast member named Rebel, short stack?
Malichi Samson: Yes
Scorching Chill: Patriot clone.
Malichi Samson: Eh? Explain.
Scorching Chill: Crey has nothing on certain government cloning projects. CIA? NSA? BIM? They know nothing of the people who cloned Patriot II.
Malichi Samson: Big deal... so now you're trying to tell me that other heroes around are clones of Patriot. Which one, might I ask.
Medika thinks, “A clone does not a Patriot make.”
Scorching Chill: They haven't sent a single one to Paragon, but there are so many clones of Patriot II that it ain't even funny. Hell, one of 'em was even sold to the Ruskies.
Malichi Samson rolls his eyes.
Malichi Samson: And do tell where do you get your information?
Scorching Chill: When you're a part of an organization that owns countries, you better have information or you quickly get silenced. By organization, I mean Ban's old troupe.
Malichi Samson: Yeah ok, Like I can believe that little ole you can get information that no one else has.
Scorching Chill: Hey, babe...how many people, in Champions, know the Banshee's real name?
Medika: Um. I -- shouldn't say.
Scorching Chill: Ah, come on! I ain't askin’ ya to tell his name. Just askin’ if any know it.
That Rush guy probably does, but only cuz I hear he's spent some time in the future.
Medika: <very quietly> Yes, it is known -- to – some.
Scorching Chill: Short stack, you know Ban's real name?
Malichi Samson: Considering I've only met Ban twice and only been with the Champions for a little over two weeks, I don't think so.
Scorching Chill: Alright. Why don't you ask Angel or Shock or that cute little girl? See if any of them know his name. Or Bubba? Or Joe? Or the cute orange chick or the green-skinned babe?
Malichi Samson: For someone that thinks he knows so much, you seem to not know enough about us.. like how we wouldn't bother them while they are resting.
Scorching Chill: Hey, get Rush on the phone and ask him. He's always available.
Scorching Chill tosses Malichi his phone. Malichi Samson hands it to Medika since he doesn't have Rush's number yet.
Medika: It is not really necessary, Malichi. It is logical that Rush would know -- and I assure you that Ban protects his real name.
Malichi Samson takes the phone back into his hand and crushes it slightly.
Malichi Samson: Opps.
Scorching Chill: Tell ya what, short stack, why don't you call city registration and ask them his name. Scorching Chill: Give 'em this clearance code.
Scorching Chill hands Malichi a piece of paper.
Medika: Why, Mr. Chill?
Malichi Samson takes it and pulls out his cell phone, since he busted Chill’s.
Scorching Chill: I wanna find out if short stack can find out.
Medika remembers a piece of paper that she stowed in a pocket earlier.
Scorching Chill tosses the crushed phone away.
Medika gets up, picks up the discarded phone and puts it in the office trash bin.
Malichi Samson blinks and looks at the paper and “dohs” slightly, noticing the code on the paper. He makes the call, getting up to have privacy.
Phone receptionist: **I’m sorry, sir, but that is not Omega level clearance. We do not have the 07-information you seek. We only have classified information. <anxious to be helpful> Is there ANYTHING else you want to know?**
Malichi Samson tosses the paper back to Chill.
Malichi Samson: No, I can't get the name.
Scorching Chill tucks the paper away.
Scorching Chill: Uh huh. So, yeah, by the way...wonder where I got that code?
Malichi Samson: And this proves what to me? That you have his name, I'm guessing, and by all rights you should. You've known him how long?
Scorching Chill: I've known the Banshee before he was the Banshee. I knew his name before Medika was even born.
Medika: I am <long pause> not yet 21.
Scorching Chill: Yeah, babe. I know. Ban's a bit older than you. I taught him how to get jobs assassinating people.
Medika's jaw sets grimly.
Malichi Samson: Ok, that proves what? That you're both old farts? Big deal. I told you, Chill, I don't care about what you know and who you know.
Scorching Chill laughs.
Malichi Samson shakes his head seeing that he still missed his point
Scorching Chill: Now, short stack, back to the story... Ban turned all goodie-goodie because of a hit. A man, who was basically made to eat through a straw, as you put it, wanted some "justice".The man who shattered his jaw - Patriot IV. Every assassin on earth knows better than to take that kinda mark.
The Banshee? Hell no. He took it. He took it to prove he was the best. If anyone could assassinate a Patriot, the Banshee was going to be the one. Patriot IV was waiting on him.
He knew the Banshee was coming.
Medika wraps her arms around herself and looks into the distance.
Scorching Chill: Patriot welcomed Ban into his home. He invited him in and asked only that he be allowed to speak before Ban killed him. Ban killed him. To this day, the only solo assassin to ever succeed taking out a Patriot.
Malichi Samson sighs.
Scorching Chill: But whatever Patriot said to him...it shook the Banshee. Made him question things. Now, Ban's here and he's a hero.
Malichi Samson: What no big moral? Don't know what he said to Banshee? I expected more from someone as all knowing as you, Chill. Honestly, Chill, you suck at story time.
Scorching Chill: Ya know, snot nose, you really are the poster-child for A.D.D.
Scorching Chill: But, as far as your little theory of making a drug lord suffer and all...look at what happened to Patriot IV. You don't make a drug lord suffer, snot nose. You kill them. Period.
Malichi Samson: You have you're way, I have mine, and you misunderstood my meaning. I didn't mean leave him capable of doing a damn thing.
Scorching Chill: What? You wanna die early?
Malichi Samson: I meant let him be breathing, nothing more.
Scorching Chill: You snot nosed idiot! You leave them alive and somebody's gonna seek revenge for him! You kill him and you get a vacuum power struggle long enough for the authorities and heroes to make some headway.
Malichi Samson shakes his head.
Malichi Samson: You have you're way, I'll use mine. If I die, then I die. I know I've made a difference; even if it's a small one, it's still a difference. And that is what I'm proud of.
Scorching Chill: You know what you're difference means, snot nose?
Malichi Samson: To you? Nothing and I could care less.
Scorching Chill: It means Drug Lord Joe is now catatonic and his son takes his place, ordering a hit on you. My way means all of Joe's men start fighting it out, because Joe's son is mourning papa. So, yeah, you go ahead with your way. Hope you don't expect to see 30, snot nose.
Malichi Samson: Ok I see you're point,... However I see it like this: ok, Joe Jr. is mourning papa..... He still takes a hit out on the hitman anyways. I know I would.
Scorching Chill: Yo, babe. You're quiet. Sad facts of reality depressing you?
Medika nods.
Scorching Chill: Sad, ain't it?
Medika: People preying on other people is always sad, Mr. Chill. Humanity has enough enemies as it is.
Scorching Chill: Yo, snot nose, you better start learnin’ how the real world works. Bein’ a hero ain't all it's cracked up to be. You have your 15 minutes and then you fade away or you become a survivor of the jungle.
Scorching Chill cocks his head toward Medika.
Scorching Chill: Looks like she's learned a lesson or three.
Malichi Samson: Honestly Shortie, I think I have nothing to learn from you, you're a bitter, sad, little man that just doesn't seem to be able to see the forest for the trees, if you get my meaning.
Scorching Chill laughs.
Scorching Chill: Tell ya what, snot nose, next time you see the Banshee, why don't you ask him whether or not I could teach you anything. If he says yes, you can come crawling back and beg for my attention.
Malichi Samson: Just because there is a lot of evil in this world doesn't mean that the entire world is evil, I think that is what you need to learn for yourself.
Medika: We survive, Mr. Chill, in order to help all people survive. The human spirit as a whole is amazingly beautiful.
Scorching Chill: Babe, you just ain't seen it clearly. Take off those rose-colored glasses.
Medika: <softly, looking Chill in the eyes> I've seen a great many things, Mr. Chill.
Scorching Chill: Kinda sad, ain't it, babe?
Medika: <softly> Sadness and horror -- beauty and nobility. It's all there if you look.
Scorching Chill: Kid, if the Banshee says no, you'll have my respect and I'll call you by your name.
Malichi Samson: Well honestly that is a lose-lose situation for me, Chill. Sure you have things to teach me, but nothing I want or need to learn, in my eyes.
Scorching Chill: Ask the Banshee, snot nose, if you got the guts. Hell, that boy's probably forgotten more than you'll ever learn.
Malichi Samson: When and if I see the Banshee again, I will ask him if you have anything he feels I should learn to further myself as a hero.
Scorching Chill: Deal, snot nose.
Scorching Chill offers his hand. Malichi Samson thinks about taking his hand and doesn't, for the robotic glove would easily crush an unprotected hand.
Scorching Chill: And, snot nose, don't act so holier-than-thou. If ya ain't gonna shake, don't make a deal.
Malichi Samson: Fine it's your hand.
Malichi Samson takes his hand and squeezes the hell out of it. Scorching Chill coughs.
Scorching Chill: Work on it, snot nose.
Scorching Chill shakes his hand.
Medika: Should I look at your hand, Mr. Chill? Malichi's robotic enhancements are – powerful.
Scorching Chill pulls off the glove. Medika examines the hand.
Scorching Chill: Take a look, but I didn't even feel it. This suit's made of titanium.
Medika: <admiringly> Nice.But if it starts to ache, drop by my office in Steel and I will run a scan.
Malichi Samson looks at his own hand.
Scorching Chill: Babe, I didn't even feel it.
Medika: I know.
Malichi Samson: Ok, so Titanium is stronger then myself; but lose the suit and see what my gloves would do to you.
Scorching Chill: This suit's design is something the orginization spent twenty years putting together.
Malichi Samson: Strange, mine only took two years and I made it myself.
Malichi donned his full armor kit.
Scorching Chill: YO! SNOT NOSE! Who swallowed neon crayons and puked on your armor?
Medika: Technology evolves like any other organism, Malichi, Mr. Chill.
Bansidhe: <over the com> **No, Med. He doesn't brag much. Rarely at all.**
Medika: Pardon me, Ban. Perhaps I should say he spoke in hyperbole.
Malichi Samson: I've got to remember that this thing is open and he can hear. <laughs>
Medika: It doesn't have to be open, Malichi. Press there <shows him> and it will be only 2-way.
Bansidhe: **Ahem**
Medika: But the Champions prefer open communication.
Malichi Samson: Well it doesn't matter; it's not like I was hiding anything
Bansidhe: **If I remember correctly, I was promoted to leadership for a reason.**
Malichi Samson: I wouldn't know anything about that, Ban.
Medika: <teasing> It wasn't for speaking in hyperbole, Bansidhe, I suspect.
Malichi Samson: But if you're in leadership, that normally means that you've proven yourself of being capable.
Medika: Malichi is new and I'm not a Champion. We are not privy to Champions politics.
Medika: Recalling Bansidhe Type something if you don't want a port!
Malichi Samson: Well hello, Ban. Nice to finally get a chance to meet you face to face.
[NPC]Isaiah: Bansidhe's on a mission to find Statesman!
Bansidhe: Med, Chill isn't given to speaking in hyperbole.
Medika: I can't help it, Ban. That's how it sounded to me. Chill made a far bigger deal of size -- in inexplicable ways. It seemed hyperbole to me Like a bantam rooster trying to take on a yard of turkeys.
Bansidhe: Would you like to know why Chill says everyone is shorter than him, Med?
Malichi Samson: <curiously> I know I would -- when I tower over him.
Bansidhe: Because that's how he typically starts a fight. When the person argues it, he usually puts them on their backs and shows them who is still standing.
Medika: He is aggressive enough to make one WANT to challenge his assumptions about height and superiority, Ban. That's not the way of a confident man.
Bansidhe: Med, he's overconfident.
Medika: Perhaps. He's also pushy. He tries to get people to challenge him.
Malichi Samson: Strange, he wouldn't fight me even though I prodded him.... Anyways, NOW to why I wanted to speak to you, Ban...... Would I have anything to learn from Chill about being a Hero?
Bansidhe: The only one he's ever recognized as being taller is...*chuckles*...me.
Bansidhe: I'm going to answer your statement first, Malichi, then your question...with a question. Be glad you didn't fight him. If Paragon City didn't impose power inhibitors on SPBs coming into the city, through legal routes, Chill could give me a run for my money.
Malichi Samson: I guess that's why he didn't cause of the power inhibitors he knew he'd lose.
Bansidhe: No. He wouldn't lose. Trust me, kid. He wouldn't lose...even if he had to cheat.
Bansidhe: To answer your question, how young are you?
Malichi Samson: I'm 15 years old, Ban.
Bansidhe: Then my answer to your question is both yes and no.
Malichi Samson: I see, then the deal is broken ‘cause you gave both answers. At least now I don't have to crawl to him and practically beg him to teach me.
Medika: Malichi, pick teachers that you respect, that can be good role models.
Bansidhe: He could teach you ways to use your powers that you probably might never think of. Chief among those - how to best survive.
Malichi Samson: I seriously doubt that Ban, considering my only power is my intelligence.
Bansidhe: You have a suit, do you not?
Malichi Samson: Yes,but I'm doing more without it then I did when I first started.
Bansidhe: And the cybernetic arms?
Malichi Samson: Made them myself.
Bansidhe: So, where do your powers come from?
Malichi Samson: I see where you're going, Ban, but I disagree: the arms are a weapon, my power is my mind.
Bansidhe: Alright. Shall we test that?
Malichi Samson: Sure, if you insist.
Bansidhe: Meet me at the arena.
Malichi falls to Bansidhe repeatedly.
Medika: Ban. Please stop.
Bansidhe: Stop?
Medika: This proves nothing.
Bansidhe: He wished to prove he knew his powers.
Medika: He does.
Malichi Samson: I know my mind, that is my power.
Medika: The fact that his weapons are not yet as potent as yours was not in dispute.
Malichi Samson: I know what I am capable of.
Bansidhe: His greatest power, as it is to us all, is the power of our mind.
Medika: And my mind says that this battle is fruitless.
Bansidhe: Is it, Med?
Medika: Yes. Because the proper response to your invitation to the arena was -- to refuse. Which I almost did.
Bansidhe: Malichi, you are missing the point. What am I about to do to you?
Malichi Samson: Either blast me or freeze me; that seems to be your pattern. Same difference.
Bansidhe immobilizes Malichi with a choking cloud.
Bansidhe: And you chose poorly.
Bansidhe: Kid, did you ever see The Matrix?
Malichi Samson: Yes and that would be a topic in this how?
Bansidhe: Remember when Neo walked into the Oracle's kitchen?
Malichi Samson: *smirks* yeah, which time?
Bansidhe: In the original movie, kid.
Malichi Samson: Yeah I remember it.
Bansidhe: What did the sign say?
Malichi Samson: You know how long it's been since I've seen that movie? ..... well no you wouldn't, no I can't remember the sign.
Bansidhe: "Know thyself".
Malichi Samson: Ok and I've said this before, I know what I am capable of and what I can be capable given time and training.
Bansidhe: Being a hero is far more than that. You have to know what you are and are not capable of, but you also have to know how to read your enemy's movements and their standard responses.
Malichi Samson: Given enough time, and training I might even take you down as easily as you've taken me down here.... only time can tell that.
Bansidhe: Think so, kid?
Bansidhe again shoots Malaichi, continuing to do so at every opportunity.
Medika: BAN!
Malichi Samson: Yes I do think so Ban, as I said in time and training.
Bansidhe: <chuckles> Yes, Med?
Medika: You are not proving your point, Ban. You are being a bully.
Bansidhe: I'm being a bully, Med?
Malichi Samson: No, he's proving a point Med: that I have things to learn, and I understand that -- but what I don't understand is how my power was being tested by us fighting. It was pointless when we all know he's stronger then I am.
Bansidhe: I'm trying to save the kid a few trips to the local ER, via the teleportation system.
Medika: To fight against someone more powerful and more experienced, one must collect allies and create a strategy. You allowed Malichi no such option, Bansidhe. All of us KNEW before this started that Ban was stronger, more powerful, more experienced. What, then, did THIS teach? And you, Malichi, had also repeatedly acknowledged that you had not learned everything that you have to learn. That isn't being tested either.
Bansidhe: And what happens, Med, if he's running through Oranbega and turns a corner to unexpectedly find a demon the likes of the Envoy of Shadow?
Malichi Samson: You honestly think I would get myself in over my head?
Bansidhe: You're rash and brash, kid, so yeah.
Medika: He DIES, Ban. That's what happens. Unless he has a friend who can tport him out of there pronto. He knows it, you know it, I know it. The real lesson is to Pick Your Battles!
Malichi Samson: Admittedly I've bitten off more then I could chew at times, but I handled myself well enough that I made it out...
Bansidhe: You accepted the invitation to fight me here, without knowing any pre-set rules or anything. So, yes, I fully believe you would rush into a situation without completely thinking it through.
Malichi Samson: I accepted the invitation to come here with you to "test" my power, not to fight you.
Medika: I'm sorry, Ban. I agree with the boy.
Bansidhe: You failed your first test, kid.
Malichi Samson: What? By not thinking of you as a enemy?
Bansidhe: No, Malichi. By not knowing what you were rushing into. That you didn't think of me as an enemy is secondary.
Malichi Samson shakes his head, not understanding.
Bansidhe: <turns to Medika> And you of all people should realize that knowledge is the best weapon any of us can have.
Medika: You said "test your power to stay on your feet". That's no power.
Bansidhe: Indeed, Med.
Medika: I understand that my first reaction -- to refuse to attend this -- was correct.
He made the same mistake -- but he thought you were "testing" him "in the arena" -- and as leader of his SG, he expected you to do so.
Bansidhe: The boy didn't use his power - his intellect..
Malichi Samson: I did, I chose to stay out of your reach at first, my first reaction after you attacked me was to leave... but seeing as how I wanted to try and learn something I decided to stay.
Medika: You learned a little of how the arena works, at least, Malichi.
Malichi Samson: Yeah. No one is a friend here.
Bansidhe: <shakes his head> Ach! Can ye nae see th' forest for th' trees?
Medika: <sadly>And I have learned a little more of how the Bansidhe thinks.
Bansidhe: Have ye, Med?
Malichi Samson just shuts up, deciding that maybe he might learn something, or he might not.
Medika turns her back on the combatants and surveys the tranquility of this portion of Perez Park, comparing it to when she last saw it in Blur’s blasted future. She wonders how Ban’s cryptic lessoning could in anywise alleiviate that; clarity was what the future needed. Her musings are interrupted as a gigantic dark form blocks her view: Bansidhe.
Medika: I want to know what all this has to do with how Chill thinks?
Bansidhe: Have ye learned more about how I think, Med?
Medika thinks, “Like bootcamp – without the cultural familiarity.”
Bansidhe: Med, would I attack you unaware?
Medika: I have always known that part of you thinks with your prowess, Bansidhe.
You need not have blasted Malichi more than once to prove your initial point. When you are in the arena you enjoy your powers too much.
Bansidhe: Ach! Med, with your time in the future, ye've come back and started thinkin’ like a rookie, again!
Medika: <sadly> When the time comes, it'll only take one blast to make death -- not a trip to the hospital -- real, Ban.
He freezes the young healer in a block of ice. She immediately clicks the fail-safe switch to port herself from the arena. The conversation continues over the Champion’s com.
Medika: <firmly> **I am no rookie.**
Bansidhe: **You left the arena.**
Medika: **It was the correct thing to do.**
Bansidhe: **Alright, Med, since ye're goin’ t' be stubborn...**
Medika: **I'm not stubborn, Ban. I learned in real conditions that running to fight another day is the only way to manage against superior firepower**
Bansidhe: <over the communicator> **Join me, both of you.**
Medika: **Where may I join you?**
Bansidhe: **On top of the building behind the tram.**
Obediently, Medika ported thence and sat down between the Champion leader and young Malichi.
Malichi Samson: I still don't understand what you were trying to teach me, Ban, other then I should think of you -- or anyone for that matter -- as a enemy in the arena.
Bansidhe: Med, would you believe I have dossiers on every single SPB in this city?
Medika: I knew you did.
Bansidhe: What about the entire world?
Medika: I knew that too --since an earlier conversation.
Bansidhe: Aye. Now, do you know why?
Malichi Samson: <guessing> To know who might and might not be a enemy?
Medika: You told me why you had them originally. I can guess the use they might be to you in your position with Champions.
Bansidhe: You know why I used to, but do you know why I still do? Champions has nothing to do with it.
Medika: I am listening.
Malichi Samson figets.
Bansidhe: Because, Med, I plan for every eventuality.
Medika: That is -- grandiose.
Bansidhe: What happens, Med, if Spirit goes rogue? Or Shock? Or Xochi?
Medika: <firmly>We have to stop the perpetrator.
Malichi Samson: Plain and simple someone has to take them down so they don't hurt anyone. But I ask you the very same question, Ban. What if you go rogue?
Bansidhe looks at Malichi.
Bansidhe: Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Bansidhe: I've studied each and every hero, in Paragon City, well enough to know how to take them down if they ever go rogue...including Statesman.
Medika: You are admirably qualified to make such a study, Ban.
Bansidhe: How so, Med?
Medika: <glances at Malichi> And there are those of us who have studied to deal with the possibility you have mentioned, young man.
Malichi Samson shuts up and tries to sit still. Bansidhe grins at Medika.
Medika: Powers are not everything, Ban. You know that. Knowledge is more important than any of our physical powers.
Bansidhe: And we both know I'm not the most powerful hero around.
Medika: You don't have to be. I am not powerful at all, but, as your doctor, I might be better equipped to take you down than any meta-human.
Bansidhe: Hell, Sarah's power levels could conceivably rival Spirit's.
Medika: Power is not the point. We understand that.
Bansidhe: Whether the person's weakness is a funky rock from space or <tosses a quick glance at Malichi> a bullet placed properly enough to lobotimize and not kill, I've made plans.
Medika: As I said, you are admirably suited to the task.
Bansidhe: I have to make plans, Med. So does the boy. So do you. So do we all. Do most do so? No.
Malichi Samson shivers after the comment. Medika looks old.
Medika: I know that
Bansidhe: There is one who could possibly take me down and even he has said that he doesn't know if he could.
Medika: Ban, anyone you trusted could take you down. It's the same principle behind Malichi's accepting your "test in the arena".
Bansidhe: But that begs the question, Med - who do I trust?
Medika: You trust many people for various things.
Bansidhe: Or should I rephrase that so as to make you feel more comfortable... do I ever trust anyone enough to completely let my guard down?
Malichi Samson: I would take a guess and say most of the older Champion members and Medika there...
Bansidhe laughs.
Bansidhe: Boy, you got a lot to learn.
Medika: Malichi, one need not trust anyone completely and yet still be vulnerable at the properly chosen moment. Ban knows this. He built a career on it.
Malichi Samson: So you don't trust your team mates? I have a lot to learn about you, but as for not trusting my team,.... I don't think I would want to learn that.
Bansidhe tugs his mask completely off and lights up a cigarette.
Medika: I don't think Ban is saying that, either, Malichi.
Malichi Samson: Sure sounded like it.
Medika: The fact that there are people one trusts enough that one is in small or large ways vulnerable to them... does not mean that they are not trustworthy.
Bansidhe: I trust my team, kid. I trust them to do their jobs. On the other hand, I know that I may have to step up to the plate and pull a lot of slack.
Malichi Samson: So, you don't think of Champions as friends then, just co workers for lack of a better term?
Bansidhe: I think of some of them as more than friends. I think of them as family, kid. Hell, I even think of Med kinda like a kid sister. Why do you think I'm so hard on her?
Medika blinks away tears.
Malichi Samson: Then why look at me like you did and say I have a lot to learn, when I mentioned Champions and Med?
Bansidhe: Going back to the intended lesson... Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
Malichi Samson sighs and just shuts up and listens.
Bansidhe: As much as I love Eric or Med or Angel, I also have to think of them as possible enemies. In a battle with someone like, oh, the Circle of Thorns, any of them could be possessed or mind controlled and it would fall to me to neutralize them.
Malichi Samson: Why must it all fall on you though? Why do you think you have to be the one that has to handle it all? Just cause you're the leader of Champions?
Bansidhe: I'm not the leader, kid. I'm the highest ranking field leader, but Eric is the leader of the Paragon City division.
Malichi Samson: Ok, a leader. That doesn't answer my question of why you think it would have to be you.
Bansidhe: Because I am, physically, the weakest member.
Medika: <smiles> Miss Hail might have to dispute you that point, Ban.
Malichi Samson is completely confused by the answer. Bansidhe laughs.
Bansidhe: Still waiting on that info, actually.
Bansidhe: I'm also talking in terms of raw power.
Malichi Samson: If that's the case then I disagree, we've already seen that your power by far out matches mine.
Bansidhe laughs.
Bansidhe: I thought your power was your intelligence, kid.
Medika: Ban doesn't build his own guns, Malichi.
Bansidhe: Well, Med, in theory...I probably could. I just don't want to bother with all the hassle of getting special parts and all.
Malichi Samson: Yes, my power is my mind, Ban. But your power holds more "raw" power to it, as it can take me down faster then I can think of a way to get around you... that is what I meant.
Bansidhe: Kid, you didn't learn a thing, did you?
Malichi Samson: Apparently not, ‘cause I'm more confused then any damn thing.
Bansidhe: I didn't beat you because of raw power. I beat you because I set rules to allow me a distinctive advantage. I also have more experience with using my abilities. It's not always the power, kid, but the way you use it.
Malichi Samson: Ok, I understand that, but I still disagree.
Bansidhe: With what?
Medika looks at Malichi curiously.
Malichi Samson: Well, to put it plain and simple, I just disagree completely ‘cause you've done nothing but confuse me since the moment you told me to meet you in the arena.
Bansidhe raises an eyebrow and turns to Medika.
Bansidhe: Med, what's this boy's IQ, again?
Medika: Over 180, Ban. But IQ is not experience; you know that.
Malichi Samson: If the lesson was to test my power, which is my mind, I still don't see how beating my ass proved that, and now you've talked about knowing your enemy -- and how everyone is a potential enemy.... It's just all very confusing.
Bansidhe: Kid, for someone so smart, you can be kinda dense.
Malichi Samson: Common sense and intelligence are not the same thing, Ban, but I do have common sense. Just some things still confuse me; I am, after all, still a kid
Medika: And we all can be dense at times, Ban. <smiles wryly>
Bansidhe laughs.
Bansidhe: And here I thought it was teenagers who knew everything! I know I did, when I was your age.
Medika: <quietly> Which may be a measure of just how intelligent Malichi is.
Malichi Samson: I know a great deal about just about anything that you can find in a book Ban.... But life is something I'm still learning.
Bansidhe: That's been the key lesson, kid.
Malichi Samson: Hence the confusion, this started as a test of my power, not a lesson.
Bansidhe: If you think you know something, forget what you know. Life's gonna throw a curve.
The test was whether or not you had the forethought to know the rules before going into the arena with me. You should've made certain of them before even thinking about agreeing to face me.
Malichi Samson: I understand that, it's like when I first noticed that I was a mutant, even with so many people that accept mutants, my own parents still disowned me.
Bansidhe: And what did you do to them?
Medika clasps her hands and looks down at them. Malichi Samson looks Ban in the eye defiantly.
Malichi Samson: Nothing.
Bansidhe: That's good, kid.
Malichi Samson: I left, made my suit from junk in dumpsters behind Radio Shack, and made myself known to city hall.
Bansidhe: Still in school?
Malichi Samson: No, why would I be? My knowledge of academics far passes college standards.
Bansidhe reaches a hand out to Medika.
Bansidhe: It was just a question, lass.
Medika moves to sit close to Bansidhe.
Medika: <softly> I know. I know.
Bansidhe turns to Malichi.
Bansidhe: And arrogance like that is why you failed in the test of your powers.
Malichi Samson: It's not arrogance, Ban, it's fact.
Bansidhe: So, the arrogant fact is that you dinnae think there's anythin' t' be learned by goin' t' school?
Malichi Samson: About academics.... No, I don't.
Bansidhe: Academics isn't the only reason we send kids to school, Malichi.
Malichi Samson: Well it sure isn't to teach them about "life" out here. There's no course called Heroism 101.
Medika: <smiles> That's what the Champions should be for you, Malichi. Heroism 101: learned by working with other heroes.
Bansidhe: Though, I'll go ahead and tell you, Eric will be reading my weekly reports tomorrow. Yours is going to have a strong recommendation for enrollment into Paragon City High School.
Malichi Samson shrugs.
Bansidhe: Not to mention a disregard for authority.
Bansidhe grins
Malichi Samson: That will just slow my progression in security clearance.
Bansidhe: Which is more important, kid - your life or your security clearance?
Malichi Samson: 8 hours of my time taken to "learn" the things I could teach the teachers, when I could be out here doing what I wanted which is make a difference in people's lives.
Medika: Ban, I might suggest that Miss Hail also be sent to school. I think everything she knows came out of Webster's Dictionary or a comic book.
Bansidhe turns to Medika.
Bansidhe: I thought you and the girls were home schooling her.
Malichi Samson: What is more important to me Ban is using my intelligence to help people, not to sit in a class listening to lectures about things I already know
Medika: We have. But -- she needs to learn to deal with people her own age. The fiascos with "Neggi" and Brother attest to that.
Bansidhe: Yeah, Med, I guess that'd be a fair assessment.
Bansidhe: Kid, you don't get what I'm saying, do you?
Malichi Samson: All I see is you telling me that I'm not good enough to be out here until I go back to school.
Bansidhe: That's part of it, but let me be blunt.
Malichi Samson: Please by all means be blunt, telling me I'm not good enough is rather subtle.
Bansidhe: You're very immature and severely lacking in common sense. These are things that are learned by kids, your age, when going through high school and fraternizing with their peers.
Malichi Samson: But that's just it, Ban,.... there is no one in a high school that is a peer of mine
Bansidhe: My, such arrogance, kid! Your peers are the people of your own age group.
Malichi Samson shakes his head.
Medika: Um. I have an idea too.
Bansidhe: What's that, Med?
Medika: Well-- there's also the matter that a public hero is supposed to set an example.
Bansidhe: True enough, Med.
Medika: For Malichi and the Champions to NOT arrange for his proper schooling ... sends what sort of message to other kids?
Bansidhe: Was already thinking of that, Med.
Medika: I wonder if there are enough young metas in this city to comprise their own high school class?
Bansidhe: Enough to be drop-outs and, possibly, end up going down the wrong roads - some growing up to be thugs and join the ranks of the Hellions, Skulls, Warriors, etc
Malichi Samson: Ok fine, guess what Ban. Would you like to know a secret?
Bansidhe: Sure, kid.
Malichi Samson: You passed my test... A test that you actually care about what happens to someone that was trying his damnedest to piss you off.
Bansidhe chuckles.
Malichi Samson: If you think I need to go back to school I'll go. I'm here to learn,.. I have no family since they disowned me, so Champions is my family now.
Bansidhe: Good to know.
Malichi Samson: Basically my test was to find out if you really had my best interests at heart.
Bansidhe 's face darkens a bit.
Bansidhe: Now, kid...would you like to know a test of mine that you passed?
Malichi Samson: My, so many tests! Go ahead.
Bansidhe: You've turned a lot of your anger in the right direction. Instead of going down the wrong road, based on your parents' reaction to you, you chose to do something positive. <long pause> Unlike me.
Malichi Samson: Well, I see.... but you don't understand, Ban. I don't have any anger towards my parents. It’s just some people are too closed minded.
Bansidhe: Good to know, kid.
Malichi Samson: See -- I might act immature about a lot of things, Ban. But in lots of ways I'm more "grown" up then quite a number of people.
Bansidhe: Well, that remains to be seen.
Malichi Samson: That it does... and I do believe I will get the chance to prove it, sooner or later, but for now it's time for me to rest. Don't want Med to get on my case about not sleeping enough....
Malichi Samson grins. Bansidhe laughs.
Bansidhe: Don't worry, kid. I was about to send her to bed.
Medika blushes.
Medika: I'm sorry. I don't mean to get on people's cases.
Bansidhe pulls his mask back on.
Malichi Samson: Good night Ban,..
Malichi Samson hugs Med.
Bansidhe: G'night, kid.
Malichi Samson: Good night Med
Medika: Good night, Malichi
Malichi Samson: You're a doctor, Med; it's your duty and right. <smirks>
Medika grins at him.
Medika: Technically, Malichi, I'm not that much older than you. I know a lot about being a kid who's too smart and doing "grown up" jobs.
Malichi Samson nods.
Malichi Samson: You're still a doctor, are you not?
Medika: Yes. My father once wanted to make the Guiness World Record for the youngest doctor to graduate from Harvard.
Bansidhe: Especially considering she has PhD and was a medical doctor by age 20.
Malichi Samson: Wow, now that is something to be proud of!
Medika looks embarrassed.
Medika: I didn't make it.
Bansidhe: What? Did that Doogie Howser kid beat you out, Med?
Medika: I spent a year in a coma, Ban. So I disrupted father's time schedule.
Malichi Samson: Anyways, you are a doctor and my point is proven: it's your duty and right to get on peoples’ cases to take care of themselves.
Medika: Then go take care of yourself, Malichi. Doctor's orders. <grin>
Bansidhe grins. Malichi Samson laughs.
Malichi Samson: Very well, Med. I was going anyways.
Malichi Samson: Take care, Ban, Med.
Bansidhe: Be safe, kid.
Bansidhe: A year in a coma? I don't remember reading that part of your file.
Medika: It was when I -- when my mind changed and I got my powers... I would have expected it to be in those files of yours, Ban.
Bansidhe: Lass, you know how many files I keep and I don't have a 180+ IQ. I'm not that great at remembering everything.
]Medika: Not a problem, Ban. It's not something anyone needs to remember. An accident with an experimental MRI machine in med school.
Bansidhe: Ahhh.
Medika: We used each other as practice patients. All med schools work that way. I was the "patient".
Bansidhe: Ooops?
Medika: A year later I woke up. With a different energy organization to my brain. They'd long before disassembled the malfunctioning machine. So I'm a scientific fluke.
Bansidhe: Interesting. Looks like I'll be doing some in-depth reading about that, tonight.
Medika: It gave me a new life though. I'm -- happier than I ever was before.
Bansidhe smiles tenderly.
Bansidhe: I know.
Medika: Father gave up on me during that year.
Bansidhe: And have your new friends given up on you?
Medika looks at him.
Medika: It depends on what sort of expectations they had -- or have -- for me, doesn't it?
Bansidhe: From my perspective, it seems more like your new friends consider you as the closest family members.
Medika: <smiles softly> They're the only REAL family I have known.
Bansidhe: Then that's all that matters.
Medika: My mother committed suicide when I was 7 or so. I don't know the new wife my father married while I was in that coma. And Grandmere was never allowed to visit after Mother was gone... So, yes, that's all that matters.
Bansidhe: Sounds like we should reform the supergroup.
Medika: Why? What do you mean?
Bansidhe: We could call it the "Just Us League".
Bansidhe grins. Medika giggles.
07-26-2005 07:33:59
The contents of this site are copyright 2004, 2005 Sheryl A. Knowles unless otherwise specified. All rights reserved. CITY OF HEROES game content and materials are trademarks and copyrights of NCsoft Corporation and its Licensors and used with permission. All rights reserved.