We're not dead and we're not gone, though Eric's recovery continues so, you know, that. BUT! We've been working diligently behind the scenes and have something to show for it!
Only then I discover this cur has telepathically leached off my pain and aesthetic might in an effort of purest chicanery!
Free bonus chapter! This is a chapter set within Justice Wing: Plan, Prototype, Produce, Perfect that didn't end up in the book proper but is both canonical and, more to the point, free for people to read! Set within the Emergence Era, we see our heroes Broadhead and Quiver – aka Dale Dodson and City Thatcher… Continue reading ⎇001JW Justice Wing 4P: The Economics of Crimefighting
"My point is… every day I was confused, or scared, or didn’t know what was wrong with me. I felt ungrateful. So blessed with so much, and I couldn’t just live the life people expected from me. And then… then I started reading about you. Not just the pioneering aviator, or aeronautical engineer… but a woman who kept her own name after marriage. A woman who lived her life and when it was public may have been coy but she was also unashamed. I wanted that, so badly. I just wanted to be… me. And be happy. You helped me believe that was possible. And then… the Pentad made it real.” She took a deep breath. “And I believe you’re really the ghost of Amelia Earhart. I don’t know why, but I do. And it feels like this is my big chance say all this to you, and to thank you – for everything, as well as for the advice you’re giving me now.” She paused. “Even when that advice is full of crap.”
“Are you nuts!?” Orville shouted. “Are you seriously about to call down an orbital strike on yourself!?” “Please,” Jetgirl muttered, kicking into full burn. “Sky-eye’s at ten thousand feet at the most. It’s hardly Low Earth Orbit. This is just a garden variety energy-weapon airstrike.”
Landing in his full grey tunic and uniform with the pink v-overlay, pink mask on his face, the man landed with arms spread wide. “I dare, Kitsune!” He moved into a fluid spelldance, protective fields spreading out to protect the civilians – he’d quietly warded them before, so Jetgirl knew these new ‘wards’ were just theatrics. “Last of my Order from a World that never was! Red Point of the Pentad of Guardians! Founding Excelsior and exemplar of life! I am the Heart and the Healing! I! Am! Hearth!” “…oh God don’t do the catchphrase,” Jet muttered. “There are people here.”
"...whoever she was, she wasn’t a Steve. She clearly wasn’t a Steve. So you didn’t lie to me. I get that.” She took a breath. “Was it a good offer?”
“Amazing offer. You couldn’t match it.”
“Yeah, well. How screwed are you, now?”
He laughed, slightly. “Pretty screwed.”
Part of being a norm hero — prosahuman! they heard Cozy Wight correct in the back of her head — meant constant physical training to keep up with the parahumans she dealt with on both sides of the aisle. DETAILS called it ‘discipline’ based super powers, which always made Crosspointe imagine a bunch of super-Dommes. And, admittedly, Crosspointe never missed with a whip.
But then, Crosspointe never missed. It was kind of their thing.
The hero called Crosspointe started off as the sidekick to Justice Wing's acerbic archer Broadhead during the Emergence era. "Broadhead and Quiver" were an effective team, though Broadhead's typical attitude grated on the young hero. Broadhead typically left Quiver at home, but they typically snuck out to follow. By the time of Halcyon Days, Quiver… Continue reading ⎇001JW Art: Crosspointe
“You change your circumstances, so you change your role. You wear a different face.” The Steve took a deep breath. “I do it all the time. Every time I head into the field, I’m somebody else.”
“I can’t imagine that,” the blond said. “Just… flipping like that.”
“Sure you can,” the Steve said. “When you call your grandmother, your whole attitude changes — you even get more of a southern accent.”
“Well… sure… but—“
“We all do it. Everyone does. I just… do it more completely. And every Cowl or Cape and every Crook who keeps a secret identity does it every day. The masks are external. The change is internal.”
Dedicated to Chris Meadows
Clear skies, hot jets, and good hunting, R_M.
Jetgirl stared. “Why are you being so blasé about all this? I mean, these people are in danger and if she’s taking everyone hostage to find some lost sprocket I can’t imagine we should let her find it.”
“It’s bad form to leap into local affairs uninvited,” Hearth replied, lightly. “And they’re looking for the 'Silver Spoke Cog,' not a sprocket.”
“I will wire you ten thousand dollars today if you can correctly define the difference between a cog and a sprocket, right here and right now, without looking it up on your phone first.”
“Well, I know Cogsworth sold cogs and Spacely sold sprockets on the Jetsons. How much is that worth?"
"I know you don’t care. I know that. You’re a Crook — you don’t have to give a damn about my feelings but you’re always just—“ He shuddered again. “I know I’m fired. I don’t care. But I can’t — not today, okay? I just can’t play along today, all right?"