Story, the Second:
Oskmey, newest Superhero to join in the fight to clean up the once grand city; to join with the forces of good and battle against those who would see the city destroyed. Granted the city had come a long way since the Invasion but the pictures never capture certain aspects of a bustling city. Things such as the noise of the living and the smell. All larges cities have a strong smell associated with them. In time she would be able to identify where she was in the city just by the smells.
But for now her mind needed to focus on more important matters, specifically registering her presence and finding a place to live. Paragon helped out her "Heroes" so that they could dedicate their time to serving the public trust but it would not make apartment hunting that much easier. The online site showed at least 35 eligible places to stay and each had very nice looking photos. Then it will be on to finding work. While Paragon was quick to offer a place to live there were still other items that had to be attended to such as food, clothing, and a social life. For all of that she would need some sort of steady income and at a place that would not mind her rushing off when needed.
With all of these thoughts, and more, she stepped out of the train station and out into her new life in Paragon.
********************
"Getting around can be chore unless you have been gifted with some sort of flying ability. I mean, I was passed by four taxis and ended up walking most of the way to registration," Oskmey said into her small cellphone. "Mom, I do not want to hear thatagain. I may not have superpowers but I can do a lot of good here, far more than I could at home beating up on would be muggers.
Mom...."
The argument was an old one and it was never helped when she had to show up for family functions sporting new bruises and, on occasion, a cast. True she was not like most of the heroes but she was far from being alone. She had found out earlier in the day that her official classification was Natural Scrapper. The Natural part of the classification seemed appropriate but she was not really that sure about Scrapper. Sure she would mostly fight things out to help others but she was just as good at sneaking around and all out intimidation. Still she most definitely was not a Tanker, Blaster, Controller, or Defender. The Registry had very specific definitions for each class of Hero and it took her over an hour just to read it all and fill out the forms. In the end she was given an ID card and temporary housing. None of it in her birth name which made things a bit surreal after things being so much different in her old life. In the old life the Hero identity was protected and barely known but here, she was told, it is best to live as the Hero and hide the original. Just in case you ever became important enough for villains to target. Having that bit of information given to her really drove home the importance of the work to be done.
"Mom, I need to go. I literally just dropped my bags on the floor before calling you and I need to unpack. I will be sure to call. Love you too."
She walked over to an old couch that served as part of the "pre-furnished" portion of the living quarters and sat down heavily.
Just out the window she could see tall buildings and a statue that must be near Atlas Park. She was tired from the long train ride to Paragon but at the same time she had a lot of nervous energy eating away at her. Finally she stood and headed towards her bags. Her garment bag was quickly unzipped and she slowly pulled out her "hunting" outfit. No matter how many times she has put it on, she always felt exhilarated when she took it out for the next outing. It was as if the outfit had a life of its own,
one that offered something beyond the ordinary. An important piece of her soul that cried out for justice in a very crazy world.
"Later," she told herself. "First I need to get everything unpacked and do some grocery shopping."
********************
It was three days later before she had time to actually put on her outfit and strike out into the city. There were so many little details to cover but it had all been worth it. She had met a few others like herself and was given a referral for a nice gym that catered to the special training needs of the Scrappers. Not all of them were Naturals such as herself but that did not matter, sharing the title of Scrapper seemed to be enough to generate a certain amount of camaraderie. After showing her ID and
getting set up at them gym she met someone else who had given her a lead on a possible job with the local Hospital systems. She never thought she would end up working in a hospital since she was not a healer but she had learned that there was an overwhelming need for people to do odd chores, work on systems, and help herd both staff and patients in the right direction.
"Need to focus," she chided herself. "Shouldn't let everything else crowd the mind right now."
Right now she was poised on the roof of a very tall building, watching for thugs in the streets below. She was shocked that there were so many non-powered goons in Atlas Park. Purse snatching seemed to be the way for the scum to make a quick buck or two. Just today alone she had logged in seven would be muggers. The police did not pay much but what little she made would help with the bills. She yearned to do more. It was as if the city was calling out to her; asking her to pick up the pace and do what she could to save it.
Suddenly to her right she heard something. It was not terribly close but it was close enough for her to easily check out. She carefully jogged to the far end of the roof and peered into a darkened alley. At first she did not see what had made the sound but then something moved just beyond the dumpster. Seeing no reason to go rushing into the situation blindly she slowly slid down the roof until she hung by her fingertips and then she let go. She landed in near silence and quickly went down into a crouch. She could hear a scraping sound, as if a bit of metal was dragging briefly on the concrete. Then the smell hit and nearly caused her to gag.
"What in the world could smell so bad?" she thought to herself. Glancing around the dumpster she had landed next to she saw her answer.
The monster stood seven feet tall and looked like it belonged in a movie about Frankenstein. Scars zigzagged across the enormous body of the beast. It was human-like in appearance but only because it looked like it had been made out of various body parts. The name of it escaped her at the moment but she had heard about these things coming up from the sewers, the product of some mad doctor. It looked strong, really strong and for a moment she thought about heading out into the street and back home. The thought went through her mind and was then gone. She was here and this thing could just as easily have stumbled across some poor person on their way home for the night.
As the thing turned away from her direction she started to move. She was quicker than most and stronger than she looked. Hopefully it will be enough. The first punch landed where a kidney should be for most people. Her foot flashed out, targeting the knee of the monster. Before it landed she was hit by something very hard and it threw her off balance. As the concrete rushed up to greet her she twisted and rolled, barely feeling the hit on the ground. Back in a crouch she looked at her opponent, sizing up the next strike zone. Far too quickly of something that size, it moved towards her. Flinging herself to the right she felt the mass of the monster come within centimeters of her head. Instinctively her foot flashed out and found the pressure point in the upper thigh. The creature howled in pain and swung around to face her again.
She was already up and moving. A flurry of blows landed on the monster, connecting from the groin to the jaw. It slowed a bit but mostly seemed to shrug off her attack. Just as she started moving in again the monster started to smash down at her with two huge fists. It was the perfect opportunity to finish this once and for all. With an amazing amount of grace she slipped to the side and, at the same time, grasped one of the arms and helped it through its natural arc. The monster was quick and strong but
off balance. The momentum that it had put behind the attack, now helped along, was enough to send it flipping in the air and landing on its back. Immediately she fell upon the thing, landing blow after blow. After a few minutes she realized it was no longer fighting her.
Carefully she stood up and examined her surroundings. No others had come along during the fight, she was safe for the moment.
Her hand dipped down into her waistband and she withdrew her phone to call the police.
********************
"Hey Osk!" greeted the cheerful woman at the front desk of the gym. "How's things going?"
Oskmey drew in a breath and released it as she approached the counter. Normally the every bubbly Samantha was a breath of fresh air but today everything seemed to grate against her nerves. It probably had a lot to do with the black and blue marks across both forearms and under one eye from the confrontation the week before.
"Hey Sam, things are about the same. I need to ask a question."
"Sure thing, shoot."
"Last week I ran into something that gave me a good scare. I have been thinking about picking up some kind of weapon but have no idea where to look or who to train with around here."
Sam quieted for a moment, looking thoughtful as she ticked through the possibilities. "You said that you studied some form of Kung Fu before, right?"
"Good memory, sure did. Why?"
"Ever do any sword forms?"
"A bit but not enough to say that I am really comfortable in slinging around a big broadsword or anything like that."
Sam laughed as she replied, "Oh no, not a broadsword. Definitely not for you. However, we do have someone here who could help you with something else. It will cost though, not part of the normal gym membership but you can train here."
With that Sam dug out a card from under the counter and passed it to Oskmey. It was a little battered around the edges and proudly exclaimed:
Master Greg Lee
Specialising in the way of the Japanese sword
#218 555 5532
"Hmmm, I'll give him a call, thanks."
********************
Two days later she stood in front of Master Greg Lee. He must have taken almost completely after his mother because with the blonde hair and blue eyes he did not look like a Lee. Then again, he couldhave had that all changed somewhere along the line or it could even be an alias. That did not matter though, what mattered is if he could help her out with a weapon.
"Glad you could make it Oskmey!" He quickly shook her hand and then stood back, allowing her some space. "Come back here to see what I have to offer and then we will go from there."
They walked to the back of the small shop. A large display case had been built into the wall and it housed several blades. Some were short while others were very long. A row of daggers and other various knives ran down the left side. It was very impressive to look upon. It was as if the blades had been angled to a very specific degree so that they would be on their best display for
whomever might come across them.
"You mentioned that you have worked with knives before but do not carry them that often?"
"That's right. I have not found the perfect way to carry them yet. Sometimes I nick myself drawing them out and other times they work themselves loose and have a tendency to fall out."
Master Greg Lee evaluated her. His eyes swept from her head to her toes and then back up again. Somehow he managed to make it completely business like, with no hint of anything else in his eyes.
"Chances are that the knives you are using weren't made for that sort of thing. I have several designs that will not only stay put but are very well balanced for throwing. But for now let me introduce you to the sword I think you will be using."
He then turned to a keypad located near the display and quickly punched in a code. There was a flash of blue and then he reached in to one of the medium sized swords that rested near a much smaller version of itself.
"This is a katana. Often paired with a shorter sword but your activities out in the streets you will probably be better off with just this sword. Katana have a very long history, extending back to the late 1300s in Japan. They were designed to be worn by warriors needing to draw a sword very quickly on the battlefield. It is worn with the blade facing down and I will teach you how to use it effectively. Even drawing this sword will result in a strike against an opponent."
The blade was very basic in looks and did not look like much on its own. "That sounds perfect Master Lee."