Originally posted April 25, 2009
((These posts come a larger thread, a "What if...?" story set 20 years in the future. Becky added something so touching and sad in the middle of this long forum RP that I felt compelled to add a few thoughts of my own. I learned later that a cat Becky's player had passed that week, leaving them in a state of melancholia. They worked through it and it made for a great story.
This thread marks the first appearance of a character I would bring into Champions Online when I made the switch, Siobhan's future daughter, Ríobhca.))
-- by Breakneck Becky
The signal rattled in a forgotten part of her brain, lost in the glow and light of the electronic cosmos. The part of Becky that still could feel had a twinge of nostalgia as the signal buzzed in her brain, but it was quickly shunted away by the system. The system was tracking 32 hackers, 196 misappropriated identities, and one rogue AI currently steering a rampaging cab, and therefore had no time to let the meat distract it. Pulses of data hummed through the air into every available electronic device, worming their way across the networks to find their targets. Computers burst into flames, security doors trapped people in ATM booths and revolving doors, a cab veered into a coffee shop, destroying itself and a young man sitting with his back to the door as he typed away on his laptop.
While this widespread battle raged on, Becky sat in the rehabilitation wing of the Paragon City Nursing Home, still as always, her withered flesh disturbingly merged with perfectly unblemished arms and leg, one eye milked over and sunken while the other blazed with a near constant red glow. The meat part of Becky sat and stared at the raw data pouring through the one eye, but sincerer AI symbiont no longer bothering to take the time to translate the feed she was lost in the crashing noise of her own mind. Her brain attempted to shift to some distraction...she delved into the last visit from Shiv and Robi...remembered them bathing her and brushing her hair, remembered their words and their tears as she sat and watched. In a flash the memory was gone, deleted to make more space for the evidence against a money launderer. The system ignored the distress from the meat-parts as it did what they had always done...fight crime.
-- by Rex Celestis
Siobhan pushed back her hair as she watched and listened the young woman read to Becky. She reminded herself that everything important about her beloved wife remained only loosely tethered to the lump of charred flesh sitting in the life support unit. She reminded herself that the important parts of her wife dwelled in the ever expanding series of mainframes her fortunes supported; always needing more storage, more speed. Regardless of the reassurance of her techno-mage allies, Siobhan doubted the ability of any construct to contain the full bandwidth of her wife's indomitable will and measureless love. Her laugh? How could a computer contain laughter?
The archmage sighed, bringing her hand up to her chin and catching a glimpse of herself in the day room mirror. She had let some gray streak her hair, some wrinkles appear at the corner of her eyes. The appearance of age helped somewhat in council; The youngest mage ever so elevated. Some of the others bristled at the youthful if polite and proper upstart. She smoothed the fabric of garment as she stood. No more kilts and leather. Just the long robes and cloaks of office.
She rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder as Ríobhca finished the chapter.
"More of the good Lieutenant?" Siobhan asked.
"Aye, an he's a captain now, màthair," the teen answered, holding up the cover for Shiv to review. They shared a smile. Becky enjoyed the tales of Lt. Sharpe, a young rogue raised in one of London's worst rookeries, to jump up from the ranks of the British Army to fight against Napoleon at Waterloo as a Lieutenant Colonel. The series ran 30 novels. When Ríobhca finished the last, she just started the series over for her confined mother. The other girls and boys read Rebbecca other books. Robin read Shakespeare; Yorick, pop novels; Weekah, erotic raccoon poetry in the original tongue. Siobhan came and sat with each of them for every visit.
"It's time?" Ríobhca asked. Siobhan nodded. Crey had broken the détente. While the family's counter-move would take years to affect, it required some attention. The Theaghlaich could play the long game with devastating results.
Ríobhca stood then leaned over to kiss her immobile mother on the forehead. She stepped away to give the two a moments peace, kilt swishing between her legs. She began to summon the portal, looking back only once, in time to watch Siobhan place a gentle kiss on her lover's lips, stand, then take a place beside her daughter.
Together, they traveled home.
--
((Siobhan decides to react to a threat she learns about elsewhere in the thread and claims revenge against the Crey.))
"Aye. Thank ye fer calling lass. We'll consider it and git back tae ye. A pleasure tae 'ear yer voice." Siobhan leaned over to end the call. She looked around the room, taking in her family as they sat around the circular table. "Thoughts?"
"I've never known Buffy to be an alarmist," Tristan began, "And her ability to detect patterns and potential threats? It's uncanny."
Weekah chittered in raccoon, "Portends of a threat is not a threat."
Siobhan nodded, rubbing her forehead as she took a seat. "If the threat is as great as she indicates," Yorick postured, "I doubt the remaining members could handle it. They've never been more than marginally effective at the best of times. Some of the survivors pose considerable threats, themselves."
"Without leadership, any effort against this potential threat would fail," offered Robin. "Too many conflicting personalities to coalesce into cohesive force. Buffy, as good as an analyst as she is, is no leader. None of the survivors are."
Siobhan looked around the table, observing the faces, noting those who had not spoken. She found it fitting that the young ones listened. The silence of others surprised her. "Given the information available, the risk seems tae high when compared tae potential rewards?"
The heads at the table nodded.
"But?" Siobhan smiled. Ríobhca had found her voice after all. "If there is a threat as great as Buffy suggests, perhaps we can help?" Tristan let his eyes travel from Siobhan to her daughter.
"Continue," said Siobhan.
"The kirk staun i the kirk yaird, màthair. We could launch our attack. Give the survivors a better chance tae succeed. Whatever they need tae di, they'll di it more easily iff'n their not fighting the police. They might 'ave a chance, a chance tae…"
"Protect the city?" suggested Siobhan.
Ríobhca nodded. "Aye, màthair. Protect the city. The plan 'tis nearly ready."
"Chalk's no shears," chided the archmage.
"Aye màthair," Ríobhca responded, turning her head to look at her mother. Tristan took in the moment. The older teens quietly questioned their mother's actions in the hallways and bedrooms. They suggested that she held back out of fear,… because of Becky. He shifted his head. Because of Robi. He knew his boss better than that. He let his eyes focus on Ríobhca. They grow up so fast.
Siobhan smiled. "Still. Tis guid ti hae yir cog out whan it rains kail. All of ye, update yer data an return 'ere in tae hours fer a status meeting. Iff'n the kirk staun i the kirk yaird as Ríobhca kens, we'll move forward with removing Crey as a threat, permanently."
--
In a way, the Crey brought this on themselves. It wasn't enough that they attacked the family of an influential vampire lord or her archmage granddaughter. By breaking the détente they created the weapon that could destroy them. Watching the motionless body of her namesake, Ríobhca appreciated the irony.
"Mum?" Ríobhca whispered into Rebecca's misshapen ear. The teen looked back to Siobhan, her eyes searching for reassurance. "Go on, lass. She can 'ear ye," Shiv comforted.
Ríobhca looked back at to the creation in the life support unit. The plan used her crippled mother as a lynchpin. Not crippled, Ríobhca chided herself. Empowered. Empowered to a level the young mage didn't believe anyone really understood.
"Mum. Tis tiem tae fight crime. Mum? Ah need ye tae open yer eyes." Ríobhca leaned forward in her chair and held up a A4 sized card to Rebecca's face. "Mum. That's all ye need tae di. Jist open yer eyes."
Ríobhca held her breath as Rebecca's eyes fluttered open. Brown pools absorbed the series of multicolored dots and patterns. Inside the massive series of mainframes Ríobhca feared served as her mother's soul, the program took shape. Rebecca's lips parted and rasped, "Input accepted."
Ríobhca teared and looked back at Siobhan. She saw the wetness on that mother's cheeks. They had not heard Rebecca speak in many years.
The raven-haired teen reclined in her chair and watched her mother for any other sign; something that would indicate the plan was succeeding. Siobhan rested a hand on her daughter's shoulder. The archmage had faith. Somewhere in the virtual world countless files reached the prosecuting hands of dozens of government agencies; revealing memos and videos, the upturned arms of media. Within minutes, subpoenas with the power of God would seize assets and close factories. Supply lines would crumble as cyberspace ate invoices, bills of lading, and shipping orders. Reporters would sharpen stylus' and straighten their ties for live broadcasts.
The attack used a number of real life components. Projections predicted Crey would do the most damages to themselves. Anxious promotion seeking subordinates would assassinate between five and fifteen department heads or VP's. At least three highly placed executives would commit suicide once the press leaked evidence of their activities. An array of vampire operatives would handle the Crey family, itself. No mortal institution could stand against a coordinated attack by one Vampire lord. This effort included four of the ancient undead on three continents.
Buffy might notice something, detect a pattern in the seemingly random calamities about to befall the Crey. Most will see it as the result of journalistic investigations and incredibly bad corporate luck.
The total collapse of Crey would take months, but Federal agents would take control of the Paragon City police force in a matter of hours. Heroes could take to the streets again and fight villainy in the light of day. The survivors would have a better chance against whatever threat Buffy predicted.
Provided they stop fighting each other, Siobhan mused.
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