Topic: The Sincerest Form of Flattery?

The Shooting Star

Date: 2006-10-09 15:49 EST
7.06.06

That damned meteor almost killed me. Took the better part of a year for the doctors to decide I’d be able to leave and survive. A chunk of rock is sitting against my heart. They said if it was going to cause an infection it would have. Probably sterilized by the burn as it fell. They rebuilt part of my rib cage. I’ve got some state of the art titanium ribs now. Miracle my lung wasn’t exploded straight out my back. Lucky to be alive.

Few thousand nigh-immortal nitwits in this town, and I’m the one who catches a fucking shooting star square in the chest. Lucky. Bullshit.

I feel weak. Lying in a bed for months, hooked up to tubes, isn’t good for the leg muscles, I guess. I need a staff just to walk. Be a while before I’ll be able to run again. They say I’m lucky I can even move. Rock could have hit my spine. Lucky me. Almost killed.

Hospital here lets you walk out, if you feel up to it, at least. I’ve heard other places make you sit in a wheel chair. No dignity, that way. At least I left under my own power. Months of therapy ahead of me. Maybe years. With my titanium ribs.



8.14.06

Therapy going fast. These people keep saying miracle. Shouldn’t have been hit in the first place. Miracle. Bastards.

Don’t need the staff to walk any more. Should. Legs getting better fast. Still, lost almost a year of my life, lying in that hospital bed. Still carry the staff. Seems like a part of me. I might try learning some kung fu with it. Get reflexes to knock away meteors, if another one comes my way. Hah.



8.30.06

Holy shit. Just ran five miles in a couple of minutes. Gods. What the hell is going on? Burning in my chest. How did I move that fast?



9.12.06

Got new staff. Extends. Can do some major damage with it, if I want to.



9.25.06

Heard about fast guy. Showed up when I was in the hospital. Runs faster than sound. Spends his time beating up on thugs, fancies himself a superhero. Might have answers about speed. Need to find him.

I’ll go beat up some thugs of my own. May as well. Chest doesn’t burn as much when I run as it did a few days ago. Might run into Crimson, or Flash, or whatever he calls himself.



10.07.06

Feels good to stomp on the chumps. Think I might have broken the rapist’s neck. Oh, well. He deserved it.

Heard something about Crimson Flash. He might spend some time over at the Red Dragon. Should stop by there some time, keep an eye out for him.

The Flash

Date: 2006-10-29 03:24 EST
Halloween.

Not actually Halloween, but the Saturday nearest. Even in Rhy’Din, where every day is full of vampires and demons and what not, there are parties. Celebrations of the "thinning of the veil," no matter how thin the veil is to begin with. And people in costumes, people reveling, people getting drunk. Causing problems.

The Crimson Flash had said he would be attending such an event, but it did not seem likely that he would be. On a night like this, there were too many people using the excuse of the night to wear masks and be thugs, even if they would never do such a thing on a normal day. Some of them were even dressed as the scarlet speedster.

Most of these weren't much of a problem. A mundane thug wearing the lightning on red can’t do any more damage than a mundane thug wearing ordinary clothing. Crim, or one of the others who had shown up over the course of the past year to patrol the streets, made short order of them. They were, after all, using simple blades and projectile weapons. Crim had encountered three of these and left them tied up for the watch, with a nod to those they were attempting to make victims of and an apology, before he learned of one who had gone the extra step.

It seemed that one of the various individuals who had chosen to buy a Crimson costume had also found a way to grant himself speed. The angry shopkeeper who was accusing the crimson comet of the theft spoke of the man’s great speed, but it did not seem nearly to the level of Crim’s. As the speedster left the store, after a flurry of apologies the proprietor hadn’t seemed to be listening to, he realized that it was likely a hastening spell of some sort, as opposed to a direct connection to whatever it was that pumped speed into him.

And so he set out to find this false speedster.

The Shooting Star

Date: 2006-10-29 12:32 EST
Freddie had thought it would be amusing to dress up like the Flash. He had done his research, and he knew that the Crimson Flash took his inspiration from this comic-book character of Earth. He had some difficulty finding a costume, but he was able to alter a cheap Crim costume in order to get something that would work. Really, the only important changes were the opening around the mouth and jaw, the white circle behind the bolt on the chest, and the yellow boots. The costume he had gotten did not have lenses over the eyes, so he wore his goggles to keep wind and smaller detritus from irritating them.

He didn’t mean for people to mistake him for the Crimson Flash. Not really. But many did, thinking simply that the speedster had changed his costume. Of course, these people had no idea who the Flash was; it had taken Freddie a good deal of time to find any of the actual magazines featuring the character’s adventures. The fact that Freddie was running about at superhuman speeds and tripping up some of the more violent partiers probably assisted in this assumption.

His staff had been left behind, as it did not seem to fit with the costume, and so he had to use his hands to take care of the punks he came across. He left them unconscious, figuring on their intended victims to notify the authorities (such as they are in a town like Rhy’Din). And then he heard the shout.

“The Crimson Flash is a menace! He just robbed me!”

That couldn’t be right. Freddie had heard stories about Crim being more violent than needed at times, and there were rumors that he sometimes lifted a few coins from the muggers and thieves he stopped, but outright robbery? No way. A burst of speed brought Freddie to the shop, where he questioned the shopkeeper until the man told him the direction the thief in red had gone.

The shopkeep had barely closed his mouth when Freddie was gone.

The Flash

Date: 2006-10-30 15:33 EST
It hadn’t taken long for the Crimson Flash to find his imposter. The man moved with a lack of certainty, as though unused to the meager taste of extra speed he had gotten, and was moving straight across town, demanding money from a store now and then. He heard the cry, which seemed to be the first thought of any victimized by his imposter. This shopkeeper had been saved by Crim in the past, and a deep scowl marred the lines of the crimson comet’s mask when he heard the words spoken against him.

Thugs and thieves are bad enough, but they never really drew a visceral anger from the scarlet speedster like wanton murderers and rapists did. This time, though, his own name was being dragged through the mud. He had concerns about what he did, at times, but he was no common criminal. He took pride in his attempts, however they may work out at times, to be honorable. Now, however, people were calling him a menace. He didn’t plan on letting any more dangerous criminals go in order to go after the pseudo-speedster, but he was intent on stopping the man.

As he reached a corner, he heard a voice cry out again, it seemed just past the bend. The imposter was there, he was certain of it. So he dashed around the corner, fingers curling into fists.

And saw the Flash, the model for his own tactics and costume, standing before a man wearing a Crim costume, a frown crossing the other speedster’s face. But…no. That was not the Flash. The costume was ill-fitting, a bit too large, and the alterations to it were done by an amateur, albeit careful, hand. Crim waited, by the corner, to see what was going to happen next. After all, he couldn’t be sure which of the two was the thief he had been pursuing.

The Shooting Star

Date: 2006-11-01 11:26 EST
Freddie found the thief, and passed him easily. After all, hastening spells don’t do…whatever it is that he did to run so fast. He scowled at the man, who had come skidding to a halt with a yell when he found a barrier in red appear before him.

“Not cool, man.” He shook his head at the imposter. “Shouldn’t be doing this kind o’ stuff while pretending to be someone else.”

The other man, after overcoming his initial shock, drew a small knife from some hidden place, and lunged forward, moving faster than nature would allow. Neither of the two had seen the Crimson Flash appear, and wait to watch.

Freddie almost laughed. This guy had seen how fast he was. Did he really think he’d be able to stab him that easily? He couldn’t help smiling, though. He stepped aside easily, one hand coming out to knock the hand with the blade aside, then shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, intending to let the other man throw a few more attacks.

“What the hell are you?” The crook lunged again, stumbling as Freddie stepped aside once more. “Who are you?!” And another lunge, a turn and swipe with the blade. And now he spotted the other speedster, and his eyes grew wide. “Crap.” And, with that, he turned to run, away from the leaning Crim.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Freddie, however, had not seen Crim. Instead, his attention was brought entirely onto the thief. He easily caught the man, hands closing on his shoulders and pulling back, to throw him to the ground. “You don’t walk away that easy.”

And so Freddie set to beating the man, who was lying on the ground, curling into the fetal position.

The Flash

Date: 2006-11-07 16:22 EST
Which the Crimson Flash took to be his cue. He rushed forward, not quite cracking the speed of sound, and thrust his arms beneath those of the other speedster. He had the advantage of height, and so when he brought his hands back toward his own shoulders and stood straight, he actually lifted the other man from his feet. ”That’s enough!” He dragged the other speedster back, even as the man continued to flail. A turn, then, and he relaxed his arm to let the man stumble away a few yards.

”What the hell, man?!” Freddie reached up to yank his own mask back, glaring at Crim. ”It’s your name this guy is dragging through the mud! You want to just let him get away with it?” He jabbed a finger at the other man’s face.

Crim sighed, shaking his head. ”No. But he’s not going anywhere. You made sure of that.” Indeed, the false speedster was unconscious, lying in a heap on the ground. ”The guard can take care of him from here on out.” He tilted his head to one side, looking to the fallen man then back to Freddie. ”You’re the one who’s been beating criminals within an inch of their lives, aren’t you?”

Freddie nodded, a proud smirk crossing his lips. ”Yeah. I’ve been giving them what they deserve.”

A scowl marred the fabric of the scarlet speedster’s mask. ”You don’t have that right. You’re not a judge and jury. Neither of us are. We stop them, we take them in or let the watch know where to find them. That’s it. Going beyond that…”

Freddie cut him off sharply. ”Whatever, man. I was hoping you’d have some answers, but all I’m getting is a lecture. I’m out of here.” And then he was gone, sonic boom echoing in his wake.

Crim sighed and looked down to the fallen pseudospeedster. ”What a mess…” Muttering under his breath, he scooped the man up to take him first to a healer, then to the watch.