Superpowers In A World Gone Mad
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Vermilion Widow, Issue #006

July 22, 2013 in Adventures Of Vermilion Widow Tags:

vermilion widow cover
Issue #006 – – – – – controlled by Bill Treadwell – – – – – Credits 10

Hourglass probably thought she could drink, but Cassandra had spent years with the Helix City Police Department and this had properly prepared her.  So it was that she awoke the next day – feeling rough but functional – while Hourglass was still slumped on the couch beside her.  At some point in the evening the All-Seeing Eye had made his apologies and left but Cassandra had done her best to get more information out of them once the pair were thoroughly lubricated.

In truth, Cassandra felt that she had been given the straight facts as they understood them.  She wasn’t yet convinced that they were right – all this talk of alternate realities and “other selves” just sounded like some bad movie, written, produced and directed by the Science Fiction Channel.  But then again, she did have a costume and powers and really had no knowledge how any of that had happened.  Uncomfortably, she had to admit that their story seemed to fit what she felt and had observed.

The pair had finished an extensive drinking session near dawn at Hourglass’ home, a small flat in one of the old apartment blocks overlooking the bay.  It wasn’t much to look at, but it was a place to rest.  Cassandra had not yet decided if she was ready to give up her job – and by definition her home and her life – so she phoned in sick to avoid the need to attend her shift.  Given that several of her colleagues had been killed the day before she knew she could take some time off before anybody began asking questions.  They would presume she was dealing with the shock of the incident.  They had no way to understand that her feelings for those colleagues were oddly blank – as though the people who had died had never been her friends, but characters in a work of fiction.

“Come on,” Cassandra shoved Hourglass.  “You can’t sleep all day.  We’ve got recruiting to do.”  Hourglass stirred on the couch and opened bloodshot eyes to peer up at her.  For a moment it looked like she had no idea who she was looking at, but then she smiled weakly: “Head is pounding.  Feel sick.”
“Lightweight,” Cassandra told her.
“Give me a couple of hours,” Hourglass choked.  Her voice was hoarse.
“I don’t want to sit about here for hours waiting for you.  If you’ve got another Misfit to bring in, let me go and check them out.  I’m fairly experienced at investigation, after all.”
“Okay,” Hourglass said.  “Give it a shot.  There’s a place on Monmouth Avenue, number 1250.  All-Seeing Eye says there’s a young man there, unlicensed, may have powers.  Worth checking out.”
“1250 Monmouth, got it,” Cassandra said, grabbing her costume.
“No suits in the daytime,” Hourglass said.  “Help yourself to clothes from my wardrobe.  Keep your costume in a bag in case you need it.”  With that she turned over and buried her face in the cushions.

She arrived at the address she had been given a little before three PM.  The neighbourhood had seen better days but wasn’t a complete bust and the house itself was well kept in comparison to some of the others along the road.  She approached the front and knocked on the door.  It opened and a grey-haired woman peered out: “Can I help you?”
“Officer Stormsov, Helix City PD,” Cassandra told her, flashing her badge.  “I’m investigating a disturbance in the area and hoped I could ask you a few questions?”
The woman blinked: “I don’t know anything about a disturbance.”
“Perhaps not, ma’am,” Cassandra said, “But I’d just like to ask you a few things which may help with our enquiries.”
Nodding, the woman let Cassandra into the house and guided her through to the lounge.  There were two people already there – an immense man and a youth.  The big man was huge in every respect, perhaps six foot five, broad-shouldered, massively overweight.  He rumbled as Cassandra came in: “Who the fuck is this?”
“This lady is a police officer,” the Woman said.  Something passed between them – a look.  Cassandra noted it.  She also noticed how skittish the younger man became.

“This is my husband Ralph and our son Tag.”
“Nice to meet you,” Cassandra nodded, staying absolutely professional.  It was common for there to be an atmosphere when a cop was brought into a home, she’d experienced it many times.  Sometimes it meant something criminal was going on, sometimes it was just a hostility to the law.  But here it was so strong that it was tangible.  Something at the back of her mind was tingling and buzzing – like some kind of warning.  Like some kind of sixth sense.  Cassandra recognised it for what it was immediately, as if she had always had this power and had just briefly forgotten it.  It was like meeting an old friend and feeling like no time at all had passed.

“What ya want?” Ralph rumbled.
“She says she is investigating a disturbance,” the woman told him.
Ralph gripped the arms of his chair and pulled himself up to his full, awesome height.  He filled the small room like some ancient colossus.  Jesus, Cassandra thought, he must weight five hundred pounds.  “What sort of disturbance?” the big man rumbled dangerously.
Cassandra improvised: “There was an incident  last night.  Somebody was stabbed.  I wondered if any of you had seen anything?  Heard anything?”
“Nope,” the Big Man growled.  “None of us seen nuthin’. ”  He crossed his huge arms across his barrel chest, resting them on the top of his enormous belly.
“How about you?” Cassandra asked the young man.  He had said nothing so far, but he certainly looked worried about something.
“Nobody was stabbed last night,” He said.  He looked terrified.
“I can assure you they were,” Cassandra told him.
“No,” the young man shook his head.  “I would have seen it.”
“Shut up, boy,” the Big Man warned.
“Why would you have seen it?” Cassandra pressed.
“You asking too many questions,” Ralph took a step closer.  The older woman backed out of the room.  The younger man, Tag, seemed to sink into his chair.
“I’m a police officer,” Cassandra said cooly.  “It’s my job to ask questions.”  But Ralph wasn’t listening. Instead, he was charging at her, his eyes full of rage and fury.
“No, Ralph, no,” the other woman screamed.  “She’s police!”
“Don’t care if she’s the  President,” the Big Man roared: “She’s about to be minced.”

3 Responses to “Vermilion Widow, Issue #006”

  1. False Bill Says:

    Lets get ready to rumble.

    nothing is ever easy isn’t in the twisted Helix city.

  2. Keith Nixon Says:

    I wonder if Steve is trying to get all our characters to lead teams?

    GM Says:
    I’m trying to develop a strong supporting cast in various places. Teams? Too early to say. ; )

  3. False Bill Says:

    well the supporting cast is good so far.


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