Flavor Text 14 (Patreon)

Chapter Fourteen

“What the fuck do you mean, wait!?” I hissed quietly. “That guy’s getting attacked, what more do you want?”

“Just… wait. Look at him, Ta-Mulligan. Look.”

I looked and saw the same as I’d seen before. A black guy getting his fucking ass handed to him by three white members of the E88. Classic really.

“I see a guy who could seriously use our help. What the fuck are we waiting for!?” I demanded firmly.

“Watch. Wait and see.”

I did so. The man held up his hands to block a punch, but failed to so do. His face was bleeding. He crumpled in on himself. Huddling against the kicks that the Empire goons threw at him.

“Wimp. You see Taylor? This is the way the world works. He’s not worth saving. Just like you were. I have no respect for losers like this guy who won’t even try to defend themselves.”

I looked at her for a moment while trying to wrap my mind around her.

“He’s hurt! How do you expect him to fight back?” I hissed.

“Big guy like him? He could’ve at least tried. Wait till they’re done fucking with the weakling. Catch them when their gaurd is… No, fuck Mulligan wait!”

“Hey!” I yelled as I jumped off the building’s roof. The ornithopter fell before slowing to a stop a foot or so above the ground. I let go and landed with a soft clop, kicking one of the bastards over as I did.

“The fuck?” One of them shouted, spotting me against the gloom. I was visible but blended into the night even better than Shadow Stalker did. My cloak made me almost fully invisible but it wasn’t perfect. Underneath I wore a cheap domino mask, but everything hidden under the cowl was invisible anyway. I looked wraith-like, as if the background behind me was a part of my skin. In the dead of night? I looked terrifying.

The two remaining men had backed away from their broken victim, the one I’d kicked quickly scrambling to his feet to join his friends.

“New fucking capes. God damn, I hate this city,” One of the men said before he turned and booked it.

Another drew and took aim with a fucking gun in an eyeblink.

Before I could even process what happened he fired, but instead of hitting me, my ornithopter suddenly appeared before me, flying in front just in time to block the bullet that would have hit me. I watched its toughness flash down to 1 as the bullet did damage that… shouldn’t have been possible. Instead of gaining a small hole, the ornithopter suddenly became shabby and worn, like it had run straight into a tree and only barely made it out the other side.

‘What the hell?’ I thought.  

Before the man could fire again a shadowy mist coalesced into Shadow Stalker pouncing onto him. The gun flew out of the thug's hand towards me and the victim. Standing on his chest like a cat, she smashed her fist into his face once before leaping off him and going to mist again.

She needn’t have bothered. The man dropped like a sack.

The third man, whom I’d first kicked, bolted behind the other one.

“The fuck were you thinking!?” Shadow Stalker hissed. “Even I don’t just jump the fuck in! You could’ve been shot! Killed, dumbass! This isn’t a fucking movie!”

“If I hadn’t, they might’ve killed him.”

“Why… why didn’t I just keep working alone? Look. This is a fucking Tuesday for him! He is a lone black guy living in empire territory. Do you really think they just kill everyone they see!?”

The black man groaned as he sat up. “Ughhh… Stalker,” he said while rolling his neck. He sounded almost familiar with Sophia. “Pleasant… ashhh alwaysh.” His mouth was bleeding; his speech slurred due to the fat lip.

Daquintus Nathanson was the man’s name. I quirked an eyebrow at the odd name but shrugged it off. He was a regular 1/1. His color was green though, which was kind of rare. I associated it with peace loving people most the time, though it had more of a nature feel to it. There weren’t too many of those.

Shadow Stalker blinked. “I know you?”

The man barked a laugh. “Ya! Hah. You saved me three weeks ago. Same shit, different day. Don’t even remember?”

Shadow Stalker looked annoyed. “I don’t make a point of remembering weaklings. Much less ones who aren’t smart enough to get out the first time.”

“Ain’t that easy kid,” the man said sadly. I wasn’t even sure he’d heard Sophia’s insult. “Wish it were.”

Sophia scoffed. “Whatever. Need an ambulance?”

“Can’t afford an ambulance. Thanks. F’what it's worth,” the man said through his busted lip as he pulled himself up off the ground, using the building’s wall as a crutch. He turned to look at me, and squinted, trying to make out my mostly invisible form.

“Gad…. you are hard to look at. Who’s your partner Stalker?”” He paused and coughed up what looked like a lot of blood.

“No partner of mine,” Sophia barked. “Idiot is going to get herself killed in a week.”

I glared at the other girl. Would it really be so bad to show her what I could truly do? The lava dart in my inventory felt so tempting right now.

“Well thanks anyway, invisigirl,” he said, the word coming out more like ‘fish girl.’ “Really saved my ass.”

“Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” –Mark Twain

My power could quote Mark Twain? What in the freaking hell? Also, it said a lot about this guy that his text description was so very… gentle. Not to mention unbroken. My Dad had a temper but was usually one of the nicest people I’d ever known. His own text was a broken shell of this man’s.

I didn’t really understand why my power didn’t seem to register him as hurt. One power. One toughness. Regardless of the fact that he couldn’t throw a punch to save his life right now. I only got the vague sensation that he was… tapped. Whatever that meant. I guessed it was a catch-all phrase for unable to fight though.

My Ornithopter flew down and parked itself in mid air. It looked dingy and rusted compared to the sleek look it had before. I was slowly coming to realize that I really couldn’t get too attached to my projections. Not the ones with power and toughness stats at any rate. The numbers indicating its 0/2 toughness normally were now a bold red 0/1. This was how damage worked I supposed. It had taken one damage… one killing blow… and was now down to 1 toughness.

I leaned against the wall of the nearest building, while Sophia worked. The man was apparently dazed but alright. Shadow Stalker was apparently pretty good at takedowns.

“So. You wanna call this in? I can’t. Not supposed to be patrolling tonight,” Sophia said, tossing me a phone.

I blanched, fumbling to catch the phone. I almost dropped it, but managed to catch it before it hit the ground, while Shadow Stalker smirked at me.  

The last thing I wanted to do was show uncertainty in front of Sophia. I had done my research. I knew the number, and I’d come prepared. I tossed her the phone back, which she caught with an ease that annoyed me. I pulled out my own burner phone, and dialed. The PRT hotline could be dialed from any phone so I didn’t actually need minutes on it, making it very easy to obtain. Three dollars for 20 old flip phones at a pawn shop. Money well spent.

“That is so weird,” Daquintus said softly, eyeing the way my hand became visible and was held up to a mostly transparent outline of a face. “Kinda creepy. You sure picked the right protege, Shadow Stalker.”

I almost dropped the phone. “I am not her protege.”

That on its own was almost enough for me to never let myself be seen near Shadow Stalker again. I would not, would not, let my hero identity be tagged as part of her team, let alone as her protege.

The man shied away. Apparently a mostly invisible wraith could be pretty damn intimidating, even if it was hiding a fifteen year old bean-stalk like me.

“Dammit, Lightshow. Ease up. He didn’t know,” Sophia said, sounding more amused at my anger than sympathetic for his fear.

I was inches from hitting her with the red dart. I knew in that moment that I could never work with her. Not when just being near her made me want to be a villain more than ever.

“This is over Stalker. I can’t fucking stand you. I’ll figure this out my own way. You call it in. I’m done,” I shouted.

“Aww… done? But I only just got here…”

I turned sharply at the voice, grasping my ornithopter, just in case I needed to fly, and hoped that it actually still could.

I saw a man wearing a metal wolf mask with long blonde hair running down to his shoulders. He was a brawny bull of a man, and his bare arms showed an E88 tattoo on his bicep.

Brad Meadows - Black/Red - Artifact Werewolf - 2/1
Morph O: This creature may transform at will.

My eyes widened as I realized just who he was. Hookwolf. That on its own was terrifying, but what irritated me more was that his stats were the exact same as Sophia’s. What the hell did that say about her?

“Shit. Mulligan get–!”

The man charged, seemingly morphing as he did so. His body seemed rotate in on itself, replaced with a mass of sharp metal that was hurtling towards me, too fast for me to catch the stats and information on what his new form’s abilities were. I saw a four, but didn’t have time for more than that.

I didn’t hesitate this time.

I cast my battlewand oak, the lands needed to power it going dim in my mind.

The whirling surge of blades slid to a halt as a green light flashed from my open palms. The wolf reared, worried about whatever power I had brought to bear. The green light shot into the ground before the ground began to shake. Up through layers of concrete sprung a writhing twisted vine that grew and thickened into bark. Hookwolf backed away and I grabbed my ornithopter, letting myself be carried back as my summon came into being.

Taller and taller it grew, branches sprouting into massive arms. Soon the base split becoming two tree trunk size legs that towered four feet above me. A face appeared in the bark, angry and vengeful as I read its full stats.

Battlewand Oak - Green - Treefolk - 1/3

I stared in wide-eyed shock at the massive creature my powers had summoned, as I hovered off the ground on my ornithopter. This was a three. I remembered fearfully the Shivan Dragon I’d held a few days ago, wonderingly.

What… are my powers?

“Mulligan…? What the hell are your powers?” Sophia asked, just a tad timidly.

Brad – Hookwolf – though, was laughing as my tree took full form.

“A… a tree! Hahah! It’ll make great firewood!”

He attacked, and I saw his new form’s stats for a brief blurr.

Brad Meadows - Red/Green - Artifact Werewolf - 3/4
"Phyrexia’s machines take inspiration from nature. Twisted disturbing inspiration."