The New Vanguard! LIONHEART Issue #4 - The Mission, Part 2

What went Before:
Time Travelling Superhero Lionheart (aka Richard King) has been in all manner of scrapes up till now. However he has never been better equipped to deal with them, being as he is one of the most powerful superhumans on Earth! However can even Lionheart defeat one of his most insidious foes yet - Frederick Timpson, Billionaire Genius inventor head of Dwarfstar Technologies, a sprawling multinational conglomerate with it's dirty hands in every pie. No problem, just punch him out, right? Wrong. Timpson had every trick up his sleeve, and when Lionheart left America he was declared an outlaw wanted by the police thanks to Timpsons machinations, as was the former super heroine Thunder Woman, who once more had to go into hiding. Now, back in Britain, Lionheart will hopefully accomplish his primary mission - stopping Earth being invaded by microscopic aliens who can take over a persons body! The problem is, the White Dwarf Star material he needed to obtain to get the job done is hard to come by, and he might not have enough... Just another day in the life of



OOC Lionheart earns 150HP for his troubles last adventure. I have a feeling he'll be needing those to scrape through this one, but if you want to take pause and see if there's something you can improve on the character sheet, we can take a look at that. It's not cheap though...

LIONHEART - HP 193

"You look like something ze cat coughed up. Und trust me, efter ze lest time an experiment to cross a frogs regenerative abilities with a mouse went sort of wrong, ze cat wasn't ze only von upset ven it coughed up ze result. It put me off Emmerdale zet night, und zet is saying something." muttered Wandafar.

Tired, wet through and with a pounding head ache, Lionheart stumbled in to the mansion in Wales that Wandafar used as his sometime base. It had been attacked not long ago and almost levelled, so the turnaround with its repair had been nothing short of miraculous. "Robots. I use lots of robots. Und geffer tape. Zet is essential." said Wandafar as he looked up at a creaking I beam holding up part of the ceiling in the cave system below the mansion in Caer Alwyn.

"I take it you vere not followed, ya? Yes, you are careful, not like zet buffoon Yeoman. Always causing me troubles." he muttered. He tossed Lionheart a towel then took it back as Lionheart dissipated his force field and deposited a puddle on the floor. Rolling his eyes he clicked his fingers and a basic looking robot whizzed out of a cupboard to come and clean up the water. "Here." he said offering Lionheart his choice of fresh made hot drinks. "Let's see vot you hef zen."

=========

"Not enough." muttered Wandafar as he swivelled in his chair and pulled a pair of magnifying eye pieces from his head.

"Amazing stuff, found only in ze heart of comets und ze like. Utterly dense material, zis weighs..." he turned, and pointed to his former workbench, now a pile of broken wood. "A lot." The White Dwarf Star material Lionheart had appropriated from Timpsons armoured goons had powered their weaponry and advanced technology, but was barely the size of a large pea when combined into one piece!

"However!" said Wandafar, upon seeing Lionhearts crestfallen face "Ve may yet be able to make ze good use of zis. Amplify its effects. Zere vos a nutcase running round at vun time called ze Shrinker, und he did vot it said on ze tin. He vos able to shrink stuff down und make it grown back to normal size ven he vanted, or ven an hour had pessed. He vos a bit of a pest too. Shrunk Cut Lass' costume down with a well placed shot. She was never dressed in much anyvay, so you can imagine ze result ven her clothes shrunk to size of postage stamp und tore. Luckily she used ze distraction to punch his lights out vile he vos goggling et her. Poor Cut Lass. She never deserved vot heppened to her."*

OOC *As sort of detailed in the ancient well out of date Who's Who from 2009...

"Ze Shrinker vent to ze nick. Turns out he was just some hired idiot who vos a douchebag down at ze gym und doorman bouncer type who fancied getting rich quick. One of a number of buffoons who vorked for and with a bed guy called Professor Power." Wandafar paused. "Not vun of mine - or ze Executives for zet metter, ve vere an earlier vintage. Or ze Lore Knights. No, I sink ze person to esk about ze Professor is Timmy Jones. He fought crime for a vile with his 'Fantastical Toy Robot Army' vich, aside from sounding a bit crep, was rather effective. In ze field of miniature robotics, he hed few peers. Last I heard he was retired und settled down. The led done good as zey say. Anyvon who gets out of zis business viz zer teeth und sanity intact deserves a rest."

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper. "Get some rest. I vill continue to test zis stuff. If you hear explosions, pay zem no mind. It vill be vun of ze robots going wrong und trying to take over ze vorld or my spectrascope blowing a fuse after trying to slice off a sliver of zis stuff. Ze fuses cost over a hundred grend each. Justin groans ven I send him bill. Hehehe." chuckled the diminutive genius. he passed the sheet of paper over. "Timmys address."

=========

He glanced at the sheet of paper. This was the place.

Richard King glanced about. Nice neighbourhood. Tree lined avenue, all mostly new cars aside from vintage or classic stuff parked on driveways, immaculately tended lawns, six or seven figure houses. Timmy Jones had indeed done well for himself. He stepped up to the gates of the driveway, figuring to buzz and take it from there. He didn't have much of a secret identity, but his superhuman alter ego was a target for all sorts of fruitcakes which meant he had to be careful who got caught in the crossfire.

He reached a finger towards the intercom on the gate post, then paused, sniffing. Burning... like ... plastic? Peering through the gap in the bars of the gate, he scanned the gardens. There.

A broken toy figure, some 8" tall, or would have been had its legs not been severed. The smell was coming from its partially melted body. It was lying in bushes, and nearby, a scorch mark on the well trimmed lawn. It'd been a cowboy, and the tiny toy weapon would have been a reasonably powerful stun laser from what Lionheart had gathered about Jones. He was, by any measure, a genius. He might also be in trouble. A slight push... the gate was unlocked. Glancing at the lock, he confirmed it'd been forced...

The house was a large detached double fronted job, probably 6-8 bedrooms, mock tudor with vines growing up the outside. It was set some 100 yards from the road up a gravel driveway and in grounds about 50 yards all about the house surrounded by an eight foot high wall. Not the sort of place common thieves would target, more your high end types, but even so, Timmy was a former super hero, albeit one well known to the public. Sure, he'd have had enemies, but all of that would have been ancient history, surely?

OOC So, Lionheart is back in the UK, the Dwarf Star Material isn't enough, but Wandafar figures an old super villain (Prof Power) might have the means of doing something with what they have. Problem is, the villains old nemesis, Timmy Jones (and his 'Fantastical Toy Robot Army') might be the only lead to track down Professor Power, and someone has paid Timmy a visit... over to you.

Also, running out of time tonight *sigh* so will update Frosty tomorrow, promise.

Lionheart knew that this had to be something out of the ordinary. Someone came prepared and used unconventional weapons to attack at a time when they thought they may gain...What? Lionheart couldn't be sure if this was revenge or some other unsavoury attack, perhaps theft. Since it was likely that the intruder was focused on what was within the house, he or she wouldn't likely be so aware of being stumbled upon. At least that was Lionheart figured was likely as he sped forward at super human speed, his force field silently crackled around him as he used his considerable senses to listen and look for any telltale signs.

OOC:No worries about Frosty, anyway, so if it was already obvious from above I am speeding forward, however I am also all senses out. As I don't want to stumble upon a situation that looses me my only lead. Hate to stumble on a guy with a gun trained on Tim Jones and find he's got a hair trigger. So get up close and go stealthy as I can/ or need to. If it turns out that all hell is breaking loose then perhaps not so much with the subtle. But I am on guard and ready to dish out a signature Lionheart mind blast if called to do so.

Sj

OOC Still alive :) After last weeks 'last week off school' for one of the kids (with the other one having returned to school) I now have a week off work ... looking after the elder child who has ANOTHER week off school. Can't remember it being like this when I was a nipper. Doh. Anyway, as usual, expect the spotty posting, moaning and grumbling about stuff :)

LIONHEART
HP 193

Speed! Like a blur he moved through the gardens, noting as he went a number of craters and shattered 'toys'. A battle had taken place here, probably recently.

The house and grounds were large enough to insulate the noise from other properties nearby, hence the lack of police presence. Moving up to the door he saw it hanging from its hinges, and around it smashed remnants of 'toy planes', ranging from modern jets to biplanes and futuristic space fighters. Timmy knew his stuff, and was a craftsman without peer it seemed.

Peering in, Lionheart took in more devastation in the hallway. Thousands of smashed toy soldiers, scattered across the floor, some still smouldering. The plaster on the walls was barely there, the ceiling shot to pieces, the floor not much better. His toy army had put up quite a fight. Whoever had done this was ready for it.

Kneeling to examine one of the toy soldiers, he noted it was melted in half. Heat or energy of some kind then.

Moving through the house he saw smashed tanks, robot figurines, toys representing characters from various movies, comics and tv shows, though he didn't recognise many. A scorch mark started in the floor, several feet wide, and moved up the wall, punched through the ceiling and down the other wall, the blackened plaster and wallpaper telling the story of the fight. Here Timmys army had made its last stand.

Timmy Jones lay in the large kitchen, a sea of toy figures around and piled up about him. His toys had sacrificed themselves for their master, and it hadn't been enough. Lionheart was by his side in an instant, but knew it was too late. The hole in Timmys chest was big enough to put a fist through, the wound cauterised and charred. Timmy had been a man in his late twenties, though he looked older than that having receded in his early twenties and taken to dressing like a college professor. His blank stare told nothing, but...

OOC 2d10 → [4,4] = (8) DOUBLE! Good enough. Plus 2d10 → [5,8] = (13)

... one of his hands was still fixed in a point... Lionheart traced its path to look under the breakfast bar.

There. A word, in rough hewn 'burnt with a laser' text on the stone kitchen bar wall.

BAT-ER--A

Where the gaps in the letters were, the stone had been too tough to mark. The figure that had 'drawn' it, a cowboy toy, looked to have simply keeled over, with not a mark on it. With Timmys death his toys would lose their ability to think, act and feel like humans, and simply revert to being plastic or metal, whatever they were constructed from. Some were 'enhanced' with mechanical innards and delicate circuitry, doubtless a later innovation of the late Mr Jones. Simply animating a solid toy of wood or plastic would give amazing results. Animating a toy that could already do certain things would make them absolutely astounding.

He stood up, looked around. A clue of some kind, that word? Then he heard a noise, coming from within the four foot mound of scorched melted plastic and metal. Something under it...? But what?

Admin wrote:There. A word, in rough hewn 'burnt with a laser' text on the stone kitchen bar wall.

BAT-ER--A

Where the gaps in the letters were, the stone had been too tough to mark. The figure that had 'drawn' it, a cowboy toy, looked to have simply keeled over, with not a mark on it. With Timmys death his toys would lose their ability to think, act and feel like humans, and simply revert to being plastic or metal, whatever they were constructed from. Some were 'enhanced' with mechanical innards and delicate circuitry, doubtless a later innovation of the late Mr Jones. Simply animating a solid toy of wood or plastic would give amazing results. Animating a toy that could already do certain things would make them absolutely astounding.

He stood up, looked around. A clue of some kind, that word? Then he heard a noise, coming from within the four foot mound of scorched melted plastic and metal. Something under it...? But what?

With a mixture of sadness for the truly gifted inventor and the utter devastation around him that someone thought necessary to cause to have their way, Lionheart took no chances. With his forcefield in operation he knew that he would have a chance to react come what may. But the only clue, behind what and or who was going on here, lay incomplete on the floor. Lionheart had already come some way and wasn't about to let things get away from him, if he could help it. He had other skills he could draw on when he knew it was safe to do so, but using his incredible mental powers he took ahold of whatever was within the pile and hoisted it in the air.

OOC:'k going to use Telekinesis to see if I can get the thing out without it attacking me. Failing that remove the objects that currently surround it. My intention is to hold it away form me, so if its the source of the heatblast it doesn't get to point it at me. Depending on what happens next, its my intention to use my postcognition to get the best I can from the fading scene, together with my detective skills to piece whatever I can and or also look for any documents, or computers that I can filch to gain information as necessary. But first lets see what we've got here.

Hope your week goes well, enjoy.

Sj

Lionheart reached out, moving objects aside, molten slagged plastic, fizzing electrics, shapeless metal...

Underneath the mound, struggling, and now floating in the air, arms and legs flailing, was a vintage toy soldier. Tin, probably Victorian or at least very old. Its paint was chipped, faded, and part of its coldstream guard hat was missing, broken off.

It was moving.

Alive?

"What the devil?" it seemed to splutter in a tiny (tinny?) voice. It looked about, and Lionheart could have sworn it had a look of shock and horror on its face, despite the painted on rosy cheeks. "Oh no! My beautiful toys! That... that..." Then its eyes seemed to rest on the (quite dead) human form laying on the floor, surrounded by the toys which had sacrificed themselves for their master. "What... how can...?" spluttered the tiny toy in Lionhearts telekinetic grip...

Admin wrote:"What the devil?" it seemed to splutter in a tiny (tinny?) voice. It looked about, and Lionheart could have sworn it had a look of shock and horror on its face, despite the painted on rosy cheeks. "Oh no! My beautiful toys! That... that..." Then its eyes seemed to rest on the (quite dead) human form laying on the floor, surrounded by the toys which had sacrificed themselves for their master. "What... how can...?" spluttered the tiny toy in Lionhearts telekinetic grip...

"Wow, hold on their fella." Lionheart somewhat perturbed by the fact he was speaking to a toy! "Look around, you'll see your the only witness to a whole lot of destruction, including sadly the death of your 'creator' Tim Jones. I came to ask for information, but sadly someone came to stop Mr Jones and your compatriots. Soon, the police will be hear, and then I've no idea what will happen to you. So perhaps we can do ourselves a favour here and help each other out."

Causing the soldier to look around as he spoke, Lionheart slowly rotated him around to see his face as he said, "I'm looking for someone, but it turns out, I wasn't the only one interested in Mr Jones. He tried to leave a final message for us to follow." And then swinging the toy soldier over, Lionheart showed him where the ground was crudely scortched with the mysterious final message, "BAT-ER--A".

"Do you feel like cooperating, as I'll think you'll find I'm as interested as you at finding out who might have wanted to do this to Mr Jones. Besides which there is the question of where you'd go now anyway? What do you say?"

Bringing him back to face himself, but weary least the soldier have a nasty surprise yet hidden away, Lionheart looked on curiously. A vague suspicion began to buzz around in the back of his head, but he'd been wrong before and without further information a half baked theory wasn't what anyone needed right now.

Sj

"What?" spluttered the solider. "Oh my... this is..."

He looked up at Lionheart, tin face scratched and worn from decades of toy box battering. "My dear fellow, I *am* Timothy Jones! I..." he looked at the body, the blood, and the smashed toys. "I... I'm dead."

Clearly his body was dead, but - somehow - Timmy Jones had survived!

His keen mind took a grasp on the situation, looking his diminutive body up and down then at Lionheart. "My power... I can 'give life' to toys. Maybe, at the point of my death, a surviving toy in all of this carnage acted as a vessel for my mind... soul... This is... I had no idea. I... I'm dead."

There was silence for a moment. Then ... "Battersea. I'm afraid I wasn't one for physical violence - my toys took the beating, and I would fix them up. When my attacker, a man in his early forties, greying, well built, like an athlete, t shirt, jeans... energy blasts from his hands... when he started to torture me I gave up the location he was looking for. I'm sorry. I... I was ever a coward when it came to being bullied. My toys were my escape, it's how I discovered my powers."

"He wanted to know the location of the Justice Legions old headquarters. A team, defunct, but active when I was, although their roster was loose, ever changing. They never made the news much, but were instrumental in bringing down several notable criminals. They made their base in the levels underneath the old power station. I don't know why he wanted to know the location, but he'd already blasted my toys and I was next, so I figured to tell him."

"He killed me anyway."

If a toy could cry Lionheart knew the little tin soldier would be doing so.

Admin wrote:"He killed me anyway."

If a toy could cry Lionheart knew the little tin soldier would be doing so.

For his part, Lionheart felt for the man. Clearly it was a shock to have had the intruder do so much damage, but to find out that he had narrowly survived death through one of his empowered toys, was quite something else.

"Ok putting aside what this intruder wanted with a defunct heroes base. Although several possibilities to do with captured equipment or plans spring to mind. However I wanted to ask you about someone else you might have some information on, a Professor Power." Does the name mean anything to you?"

OOC:
As I talk to Tim, I'll lower him to the floor, I am unsure if he is a threat as such. But Lionheart would be confident his danger sense would be warning him if he was. Once we've got to the bottom of the info about Power, I think I've just earned myself a side quest that I might need to look into regarding this bruiser who was willing to kill to get to this old base. That is something I can look into straight away, if Tim wants to join me, come out of retirement and all that then he'd be welcome.

Sj

The tiny tin soldier seemed taken aback by the mention of Professor Power.

"Hmmm? Prof Power? He retired, or at least I thought he had. Herbert Wilkins was his name, or at least one of the names he went by. He would be defeated, disappear, then surface somewhere else with a new name and usually a new, awful, hair cut. Your typical 'ignored as a child the world will soon come to know my name yadda yadda would be world conquerer', but he was a behind the scenes sort of guy. Quite brilliant, but hopeless when it came to getting the job done. Depended too much on people who were, in one way or another, complete idiots. Thankfully."

He took a seat on the dismembered lower half of what looked to be some 80s cartoon show action figure and looked about sadly. "All my work, my toys, destroyed. That said, many of them were bought. That one over there, in mint condition as it was, was worth hundreds on ebay. It fought its way out of the original packaging to come to my aid. Fat lot of good it did."

A pause, then a deep breath. "No use sulking! I'm... alive. Sort of. I even have a plan about what to do, but I might need your help. Sorry, I've just realized I have no real idea who you are, what you're doing here or how you found me. You might be a bad guy for all I know, but there's not much I can do if you are. My toys were just toys, albeit brought to life, unless they had weapons, and even then, they were pretty useless against supers, which is why I made upgraded versions, which were boosted by my power."

"Tell you what. You take me to a high street clothing store - for men - and I will take you to Mr Wilkins last known address. Deal? Oh, and uh, I don't suppose you have any money on you? I'm a bit small to be carrying a credit card round."

Admin wrote:The tiny tin soldier seemed taken aback by the mention of Professor Power.

"Hmmm? Prof Power? He retired, or at least I thought he had. Herbert Wilkins was his name, or at least one of the names he went by. He would be defeated, disappear, then surface somewhere else with a new name and usually a new, awful, hair cut."

Whilst the diminutive toy Tim spoke, Lionheart relayed the information to Wandafar to see if he had anything on him. He remained otherwise quiet letting the toy Tim talk.

Admin wrote:
"Tell you what. You take me to a high street clothing store - for men - and I will take you to Mr Wilkins last known address. Deal? Oh, and uh, I don't suppose you have any money on you? I'm a bit small to be carrying a credit card round."

OOC:Err do I have anything like conventional cash, or credit?

"I think that might be fair. I'll take you into town, but lets keep this on the down low. If I have anyone see me talking to a toy or one, albeit clever and sensible as you, talking back to me, we are going to earn ourselves on one of those charming websites that let's you upload yourself on some such. Oh and as for a name, well you can call me Lionheart. Its a bit much for everyday use, but that's my designation in any case."

With that Lionheart scooped up the Tiny Tim, and shot out the door, back toward town and somewhere to find some clothes or something for his unexpected help.

Sj

Wandafar replied in Lionhearts earpiece "Vun of ze names used by Professor Power. Better zen some of ze others. Gerald Puddlesthwaite? Archibald Ramsbottom? Ze men clearly has no sense taste"

Lionheart recalled Wandafar wearing a pair of billowing trousers in lurid acid day glow colours at one point, but kept quiet.

"Got it. A... nursing home? Not far. Only twenty miles up ze road. I send directions. Now don't disturb me. Home und avay is on soon."

With a blur of motion Lionheart sped into town and pulled out the credit card Wandafar had handed out as standard kit courtesy of the teams unofficial benefactor, Justin St Johns, who clearly had more money than he knew what to do with. After all, when your estates include lands on which gold mines were worked, and your investment holdings made more money in interest than the best paid footballers earned in a year, chances were a credit card with a ten grand limit wouldn't break the bank.

=========

"That." said the little tin figure, quiet enough that Lionheart only could hear.

Lionheart frowned. The clothes on the mannequin were clearly too big.

"No, I want the whole lot. Mannequin and all!" squeaked the tin soldier. "I will pay you back when I'm big enough to use my own bank account!"

=========

It felt strange carrying the clothed mannequin from the shop, and stranger still into a local chemists for makeup.

Behind the stores staff members gave him funny looks as he set the dummy down and appeared to be speaking to it, quickly finishing up their cigarette breaks and having a chuckle as they went back to work.

"Righto." said Timmy. "Let's see if..."

"This works." said the mannequin. He rolled his neck, flexed fingers, blinked and grinned at Lionheart. "It will do." he said, stretching and crouching. Taking the make up he leaned in to a car mirror and applied foundation, attempting to make the face look less... well, false. Adjusting the wig, he asked "How do I look?"

Lionheart was looking at a real life living doll, but whether to give Timmy an honest opinion...

=========

The Taxi driver kept giving the pair funny looks before he pulled up at the nursing home. "Ere you are guvnor. Forty quid."

Lionheart had used the card to withdraw cash so handed it over. Timmy had bought sunglasses and a baseball hat to go with a hoody top Lionheart had bought to add to his ensemble. Slightly peeved he got out and walked rather woodenly to the doors of the nursing home while Lionheart paid.

"I'm here to see my grandad." said Timmy. "Tell him Timmy Jones is here. This is my friend."

The short sighted woman on the desk squinted at Timmy, who smiled nervously, flicking some of his false hair from his face.

"He doesn't normally see visitors. Miserable old so and so. Wait here."

=========

"Come to finish me off, Jones?" rasped the old man.

He looked at deaths door, sat as he was in the window of his room in a Shackletons high seat chair (they're lovely. Or so Thora Hird would have you believe.) His skin hung in folds, what was left of his wispy white hair was in clumps, and his hands were more like claws, so skeletal thin they were. His eyes gleamed with intelligence though, and he stared at Jones. His bushy eyebrows rose as he realised what had happened to Timmy, genius mind putting the pieces in place. "Ha! Someone got to you did they boy? Finally! You deserve it after your smug victories over the years!"

The mannequin turned, clearly stifling annoyance, and muttered "I'll be sat over there. Question away."

Lionheart sat down on the bed. His danger sense gave only the very slightest, merest tingle that this man presented any kind of danger to him, and that was probably because his eating utensils were in reach. Professor Power had seen better days, clearly.

Admin wrote:The mannequin turned, clearly stifling annoyance, and muttered "I'll be sat over there. Question away."

Lionheart sat down on the bed. His danger sense gave only the very slightest, merest tingle that this man presented any kind of danger to him, and that was probably because his eating utensils were in reach. Professor Power had seen better days, clearly.

This had to be one of the strangest cases, Lionheart had ever been on. He wondered if it were possible to get stranger yet. Mulling over how he might get the old bitter man to open up, he started slowly.

"So Timmy" Lionheart used the more childish use of the name, to make it sound as if he wasn't that impressed with him either. "tells me you were, sorry are a genius. Sadly let down in your clever crimes by the lack of decent people to understand your true abilities. I'm no one special, but given Timmy's predicament he had no choice but to help me and your powers, especially the ability by which you commanded mastery over the very properties of material, whereby you could shrink them, fascinates me. Can you tell me more?"

Lionheart, despite Wandafar's protests, was using what people of this time considered cutting edge technology, a mobile phone, to record the conversation so that the precious details he might be able to get, could easily be played back and gone over especially if the Power, got to technical. Lionheart was no slouch, but he was aware that if what Power had done was easy, everyone would have done it by now. No, despite his unfortunate ability to misjudge his needs, you had to respect his raw intellect.

Lionheart carefully leaned in, mindful of any danger the man might present. Old he might be, but that might just be a ruse. And after the day he had, had Lionheart was taking precautions.

Sj

The old man raised an eyebrow, devilish intelligence still apparent behind the rotting shell of his body, ravaged not by years alone, but by constant exposure to substances and energies few people even knew existed. An architect, then, of his own misfortune....

"Ah yes. The Shrinker. I was never one for names, but the buffoons who worked for me would insist on on, and a costume, and some kind of calling card or catchphrase. I indulged them because some were quite dangerous and deranged in their own way - you'd have to be to strap on the equivalent of a 1 megaton explosive pack around you powering whatever creation I'd cooked up." he cackled. "The Shrinker... the man behind the mask was irrelevant, but the technology I used... ah. He was very effective before he was caught..." a glance at Timmy "...which more or less defines my lifes work. Snatching defeat from the slavering maw of victory! Anyway, he would shrink himself, be dropped off in a bank, use the shrink ray to various useful effect and abscond with the contents of the vault leaving baffled police and SMITE agents wondering how it had all been executed. A shrunken vault door torn from its hinges and reverting to natural size an hour later, the security cameras destroyed when the innards shrank to microscopic size, the hole in the floor sliced perfectly as the ground was shrunken, fell away, and reverted to fill most of it and the tunnel below with concrete and rock."

Timmy huffed, knowing most of this.

The professor glowered at him, then continued. "The true genius lay not in the crimes, their execution or the people committing them, but instead existed in the power behind the throne. I it was, who confounded Adjutant, Majestic, Battalion, Smith, the head of SMITE, that much vaunted organisation that delivered little of their promises, or its forebear, DICE, amongst others."

"There were reversals, setbacks of course. Nowhere Man, the Executive, the Northguard... where others would rail and rant at their undoing, I would simply point in another direction, saving my revenge and riposte at those who had thwarted me for another time. Time, alas, is the one resource there never seems enough of. My own experiments with time travel were... mixed."

Timmy spluttered. "What? You can...?"

The Professor arched a bushy eyebrow "Never doubt the human mind, boy..." he said, still referring to the adult former hero as a boy when clearly he was not "... the limits are there only to be breached, to be overcome. As it was, time travel is a subject I shall not broach at this time. It was... unsuccessful... shall we say. Let us leave it at that."

He seemed unusually remorseful and reached a shaking hand for a glass of water, hissing as Lionheart reached to hand it to him, and raised it to his own quivering lips with what seemed to be a tear in his eye. It was hard to feel empathy with this man though. His lust for power had seen dozens dead, lives shattered, organisations felled and a lot of people in prison. Now it seemed the old villain was in his own cell, albeit made of failing flesh.

"The Shrink ray. You need White Dwarf Star matter. You can't generally find it in the local chemist!" he cackled, breaking down into a coughing fit. "Instead... am I wasting my words on you?" he looked at Lionheart, then narrowed his eyes at the phone he'd put to one side. Pausing, he pondered for a moment. "If I do tell of what is required, what will YOU do for ME?" he hissed, pointing a clawlike finger at Lionheart. "I will impart the secrets of my molecular division technology and the simple way I got round the lack of Dwarf Star matter to work with if you..."

Another pause.

"Break out Charlie Hammond from HM Prison in Wandsworth." he said, holding up a hand to forestall any argument. "The boy is... barely old enough to shave and already finding himself tucked away in a cell for 10 years after using one of my old... toys..." he glanced at Timmy with a wry grin "and using it to rob a jeweller. Wanted to carry on in his grandfathers footsteps, I should think. Misguided fool. My daughter would have nothing to do with me after the explosion that killed her mother, and when she married and moved away I was at the height of my powers, making millions and planning my great schemes of conquest. The boy was blighted by my name. SMITE and SPRITE watched him, wondering if I would make contact and used him as bait, even. They were right. The battle levelled the boys school, to my eternal regret."

Another pause.

"Another move they made, this time untracked by me as I was on the run myself. In a quiet moment I tracked them down again, and sent a gift to the boy, knowing that my enemies - and not just the heroic spandex clad speech spouting kind, but those like me - would seek to get at me through him. When he opened the box for his gaming console little did anyone else guess that it formed a powered suit of armour keyed to his specific dna."

Timmy gasped "You monster! You dragged your own grandson into your schemes? I'll not sit here while..."

The professor hissed at Timmy then continued "To protect the boy! Fool! I never sought to recruit him, only to make him safe, to give him the chance of a normal life that my misbegotten deeds had stolen from him! Instead..." he looked bitter now "The boy took it on himself to learn how to reprogram the suit, and embarked on a crime spree. Once more it looked like Professor Power had ruined the life of another innocent. The fiend." he muttered, looking at the floor.

He looked up at Lionheart, eyes bright. "Get the boy out. Today. I will give you an address, one of many safehouses. He is to take the money, a new identity and leave the country, forgetting crime, any association with me or my enemies, and forge his own legacy, using his undoubted blossoming genius for something other than crime. After all..." he sat back in the chair, raising skinny arms, mottled skin hanging from them "Crime, ultimately, does not pay. Do this, then get back here, and I will give you everything you need to construct a shrink ray if you have even a sliver of Dwarf Star Material. Schematics, theories, even the address of an old hideout and the remnants of the equipment required. What you do with it is up to you, but I want the boy freed!" He paused, catching his breath "The ultimate gift I planted in his DNA, passed down to every male child of my line, is my unparalleled genius!" he tapped the side of his head. "And my wife, bless her soul, gave me only a daughter, but I always remained hopeful of leaving a legacy. The boy should not rot in jail! My legacy is not to be one of failure and dying in this... this..." he waved his arms around, referring to the old decor, swirly carpets, daytime television with antiques programs and house improvement shows... enough to drive anyone mad, at any rate!

Professor Power collapsed into a coughing fit, and the nurse came in to tuck him into his blankets. Timmy leaned forward to hiss in Lionhearts ear. "Whatever it is you need the shrink ray for can't be worth breaking someone out of prison, surely?"

A microscopic invading army, capable of controlling minds and quietly taking charge of the higher echelons of government and armed forces before making their move, free to move without fear of being stopped unless Lionheart could shrink to their size and stop their plan.

Was that worth the breaking out of a single prisoner?

OOC Apologies for the giant post, am aware you might have wanted to intersperse the monologue with questions but these would be world conquerers are wind bags after all...

Admin wrote:Professor Power collapsed into a coughing fit, and the nurse came in to tuck him into his blankets. Timmy leaned forward to hiss in Lionhearts ear. "Whatever it is you need the shrink ray for can't be worth breaking someone out of prison, surely?"

A microscopic invading army, capable of controlling minds and quietly taking charge of the higher echelons of government and armed forces before making their move, free to move without fear of being stopped unless Lionheart could shrink to their size and stop their plan.

Was that worth the breaking out of a single prisoner?

OOC Apologies for the giant post, am aware you might have wanted to intersperse the monologue with questions but these would be world conquerers are wind bags after all...

OOC:No worries I was think that that at the moment there is so little we know about this current time line, its villains to us have largely been men in suits, or foes who seems to be of the government or corporate type.  Hearing a little bit more about that which is now so different from the time line that Lionheart/we knew before the time travel adventures we took before is really quiet interesting.  And no doubt lays seeds for future episodes ;-).  If you ever read Astro City, you should read the story of Steeljack a criminal who tries to go straight on leaving prison.  He gets dragged back in, but this time with a difference [You want Issue 14-20 if you don't read that and get hooked I'd be surprised anyway sale ends tonight sometime american time so better rush if you can Astro City on Comixology].  You can get all the comics on Comixology for 69p each at present.  Anyway Prof Power and his story reminds me a little of that.  

Lionheart raised a hand gently to Timmy, knowing that he would have to explain afterwards at least gave him some credibility in terms of what he had in mind. "Ok, but on one condition, if your grandson should ever reconsider his decision and return to life of crime, know that I will bring his sorry hide back to prison. I imagine everyone deserves a second chance." Looking back at the obviously upset Timmy, Lionheart looked back to the man, "Just don't die on us, there are some things going on that if I don't stop them will make where your grandson is held totally irrelevant."

With that he turned on the old man and gestured for Timmy to follow him outside. Although when they were free from the room Lionheart could tell Timmy was ready to argue, he motioned for silence, and nodded back in case the Professor should suspect some trickery on their part.

When they were outside of the old people's home, Lionheart spoke quickly. "I'd really rather avoid breaking the law if at all possible, I've got a contact who put me onto this case in the first place, so I'll see if we can pull some strings to avoid heat and get what the prof wants. But I was serious about his Grandson and I will want to impress on him the necessity of a change of career if this is going to fly."

With that Lionheart took his primitive communication device, 'smart phone', hmm, sure! And dialed away calling up Agent X.

OOC:Ok it was Agent X who put me onto this in the first place, so it's about time I stopped running around trying to do this on my own. Especially when it comes to dragging this sorry boy out of a prison cell. I've no doubt we can do it, but working both sides of the law is going to draw some heat that even Frostbite would have a hard time getting rid off. And knowing how they build these prisons for our little escapade in Wales back along, means I don't want to try and do this the hard way. Anyway I'll tell Agent X where we are up to and see what strings can be pulled.

Sj

Timmy clearly wasn't happy about the situation, and his mannequin body/face was becoming more humanlike in its expressions with every passing moment!

Lionheart turned aside to call Agent X.

The phone answered on the second ring, and a strange tone on the other end sounded before Agent X spoke. "We don't have long. This line is secured for ... just a little over 2 minutes. Speak."

Lionheart explained, and Agent X paused before answering. "We could just 'persuade' the old fella to help, but with his health being so poor chances are we'd draw a blank. Plus before he was put in that home he was psyche screened and medically examined. The old boy tampered with himself a while back and has a mind implant to block anyone getting in there. Seems megalomaniacs like their secrets. All right. I will make some calls. Red tape generally slows these things down, but we'll be able to sort something out. Give me... an hour. I need to speak to some government ministers and remind them of favours they owe. Good work. Keep at it. If you ever have doubts, remember the 'greater good' generally eclipses all the little things we have to do that seem less than savoury. The public at large and the press are best off not knowing this of course. Mums the word. X out."

Timmy turned away in disgust as Lionheart lowered the phone. "I can't believe this! All my life, since I was a young lad, I battled bad guys and put them away. What was the point if a few phone calls can see them freed, dodging justice which their victims won't get? For that matter, look at me! My body is... is dead, and whoever did that to me is right now rummaging around an old secret base at Battersea power station for who knows what! And we are here making a deal with... with the devil! You know he's scheming right? Even now, that old villain is cackling, laughing at us because we're puppets dancing to his tune! I'll wait outside when you go back in. His smug face will make me want to wipe it clean."

=========

Back inside, Professor Power looked up as Lionheart re-entered.

He'd scrawled down an address, a non descript trading estate somewhere near Gatwick airport, one of many hundreds of small lock ups used by local businesses and the like. "Get the boy there. Once he's there, I'll know, and I will release the information that you need." He settled back into his chair. "Jones probably whined like a child at the prospect of letting my criminal grandson free, but you... you know more of the world I suspect. I don't know you, and that is... surprising. I thought I knew all of you costumed clowns. I have kept extensive files over the years - never know when you might run into some unwelcome visitor. But you? You're not new and I don't know you, which disturbs me. Indulge an old man. Where do you come from?"

OOC Lionheart can meet Charlie Hammond at the prison and take him to the lock up if needed, to make sure there's no funny business going on. At superspeed that won't take long. Doing that might make sure no funny business goes on.

Will also look up Astro City. Alex Ross on covers always piques my interest

Admin wrote:Timmy clearly wasn't happy about the situation, and his mannequin body/face was becoming more humanlike in its expressions with every passing moment!

Dialogue: "I hear you, but what do you expect, us to do. Besides is it even possible to remain undetected and undetectable in this day and age. Wherever the grandson goes, we'll be able to keep a close eye on him. I said I'd get him out, I didn't say I'd agree to let him go free unconditionally. But I take your point, it's not a bargain I feel comfortable with either, but truth be told there is far more at stake and worrying about one criminal getting out is the least of my problems today."

=========

Admin wrote: Back inside, Professor Power looked up as Lionheart re-entered.

Where do you come from?"

Dialogue: "I think my friend that is on a need to know basis. As I don't think you need to know, that's as far as this conversation is going. I'll be back when the job is done."

Lionheart didn't like this one bit, he felt that the old man was laughing behind his back, but equally he felt he was somewhat adrift in an unfamiliar world where the rulebook was torn up. He felt something of Tim's chagrin and didn't like the difficult position, nor the favours X had to call in to get the Grandson out of prison. But a quick call through to Wandafar, to make sure that he was both up to speed and knew how to track him once he was out was what he needed to get sorted before charging over the Prison to take charge of the boy and deliver him to the secret address.

OOC:Hmm, can't help but feel I'm being played here, by the old man. But since I've got no choice but to play along or come to a dead stop, I need to let this play out. But I am seeking to be wise to what is going on using my skill set, my hyper senses and Psi powers to try and glean what I can from all parties as things unfold to try and stay one step ahead of wearing egg on my face.

Sj

Timmy and Lionheart left the care home, knowing they had an hour or so to wait whilst Agent X got the wheels in motion.

Despite the protestations of prison staff (wardens, guards etc) an 'Executive order' from 'up above' would clearly overrule what they thought was proper procedure and fastrack the young man free from prison.

Outside, Timmy turned to Lionheart. "We still have time to get to Battersea and stop that... that murderer from doing what he's doing at the old HQ! I need time to rebuild, to... adjust.. but I will help wherever I can if it means getting justice!"

Could Lionheart afford to be sidetracked with another mission whilst he waited to discover the outcome of this one? If the old mans grandson arrived at the address to his satisfaction, he would free up the details Wandafar needed to turn that tiny piece of Dwarfstar material into something powerful enough to shrink Lionheart down to size, and into a whole new world! His gut told him Prof Power had something up his sleeve - plans within plans - but with the stakes being so high it was clear the more time they wasted the greater the danger that the diminutive peril would strike again!

Admin wrote:Outside, Timmy turned to Lionheart. "We still have time to get to Battersea and stop that... that murderer from doing what he's doing at the old HQ! I need time to rebuild, to... adjust.. but I will help wherever I can if it means getting justice!"

Could Lionheart afford to be sidetracked with another mission whilst he waited to discover the outcome of this one?

Lionheart sighed, "Did you ever find that for every twist and turn that some supervillain or encounter took you, there was always some other twist or turn you left unfollwed." Lionheart looked at Timmy, odd seeing as the mannequins eyes had an unearthly look about them.

"I started out on what was a simply mission, but at every turn it's got more complicated than that stuff you people eat, with some paste and meat. 'Aghetti' or something? Anyway..." And with that Lionheart took a moment to bring Timmy up to speed. He was sure that in so doing he was probably breaking some sort of need to know protocol. But Lionheart was still feeling bad for what happened in the states. And was concerned not to leave people in the dark here, so that more collateral damage occurred.

"The truth is, given half a chance I'd love to follow up on your assailant, it irks me that loose end is dangling. Clearly this man is dangerous, but somehow I've got to prioritize and that means staying on target. Sorry, but no dice."

Despite what he said, it still took Lionheart all his energy to resist the temptation to follow up on the Battersea mission. Truth was he would love to find out more about what was going on there. However he felt tied to seeing through the current mission. After the mistakes in the USA, and the failure to get enough Dwarf Star material, he couldn't afford to get side tracked again. If the 'Mvaders' did lunch their attack, as it currently stood earth would be defenceless, and Battersea, Power, the lot would mean very little.

OOC:Reluctantly that is a no, given the way that things are pointing, I think it's best I stay with what is before me. Its just my natural tendency to be cautious ;-)

Sj

Timmy sagged onto a low wall, then nodded.

"It was always a game, you know? A less dangerous time. The villains never killed, even when they could. They would have you, trussed, helpless, whilst they ranted about their master plan, how it would change everything and all would kneel before them... It seems so childish now. Break free, beat him senseless and talk to the press as the police dragged the idiot away."

"At some point the black and white changed to grey. Bright, sunny and cheerful turned overcast, iron dark, and cold. Here we are. You are seeking to stop an invasion of the Earth by microscopic enemies who plot and plan, and I? I'm seeking the man that slaughtered me in my own home, brushing past the best of my lifes work as if they were... naught but toys. Playtime is over."

He stood, thrust out a hand for Lionheart to shake and took a deep breath. "I still have friends, places to go, people I can call on. I just need a lab, a few days, and no distractions. Then... then there will be a reckoning."

With that Timmy Jones walked away.

=========

An hour later, Lionheart stood across the street from the Prison.

The gates opened and a young man walked free, looking about and taking a deep breath of free, fresh air.

He saw Lionheart waiting and walked over. "I was told that you are my 'parole' officer. Who are you? Police? SMITE? Government spook? Well, you've no need to worry about me going barmy and doing owt daft. Leave that to Grandad, the crazy old coot. 'Spect he's dead by now. So, What's the plan boss, or are you just going to give me a stern talking to, got my eye on you type thing and slap a tracker on my ankle?"

OOC Straight to the lock up or give this guy a stern talking to first?

Admin wrote:With that Timmy Jones walked away.

Lionheart was sad to see the 'man' go, but constrained by his current situation unable to think much more about it. His final parting words, to stay in touch. Were sincerely meant, as was the means he slipped to communicate with Lionheart. The communicator that Wandafar had given the whole team. Lionheart felt that Tim, already badly hurt by his unknown assailant needed all the help he could get if things went south.

=========

Admin wrote:An hour later, Lionheart stood across the street from the Prison.

'Spect he's dead by now. So, What's the plan boss, or are you just going to give me a stern talking to, got my eye on you type thing and slap a tracker on my ankle?"

OOC Straight to the lock up or give this guy a stern talking to first?

Dialogue: "I'll explain more on the way."

As the duo left the prison, Lionheart cast a careful eye around. He knew that the professor might well have spies and who knows, some means by which to carry on his life of crime through his supposed change of heart regarding this wayward youth. Knowing what he did about the mind, Lionheart could well suspect that the professor might well have set about some scheme to duplicate or transfer his mind into the boys body. He dismissed it, thinking it ridiculous that the professor, good though he was, could achieve such a thing unnoticed in the old people's home. But he could imagine that the wylie old devil, might well have considered it.

On the way, Lionheart took the chance to update the errant youth on what had brought him to this place. He took the time to caution him, as they drew up to the address finishing with. Dialogue: "Look, you might well go back to crime, or be unwittingly enlisted into the Professors scheme yet. But the world is far more dangerous, if you get caught again I can't promise that the hole they put you into won't be a grave or something worse still. People don't tolerate you folk like their used to. They're scared, seen too much go wrong. And scared people do not act rationally or fairly. Right lecture over, if you've enough sense between your ears, hopefully we'll never need meet again."

OOC:Ok Lionheart follows the plan. But just in case I do suspect the Prof has some hidden scheme not entirely based on familiar love or warmth. I suspect he does intend to try something so I am very alert for it as we proceed on from here. Feel free to use HP as needed if an attack or nasty surprise does get sprung.

Sj

The young man seemed to consider the words, then shrugged "Let's see how I get on."

"What a lot of people don't realise is that goin' straight ain't easy. No one wants to give you time of day. You serve your time that the state says you owe, but you keep payin'. What's the point o goin straight? Get treated like muck an' survivin' on handouts, it's easy to get dragged back into the thing that left you in nick. S'pose a government stooge like you ain't interested. Just do ya job then go home to the wife n kids, nice house, nice car, three holidays a year. Can't be bad. I never had a chance. Grandad saw ta that. People know who I am. In nick his enemies made sure I knew he wasn't well liked, still got the scars."

The taxi pulled up at the address and the pair got out.

The lockup was sealed tight, with only a palm print reader and retinal scan as a way in.

"Grandad will have known his old sparring partners wanted their hands on his gear. This place will be booby trapped to the eyeballs. I'd best go in there on me own."

Lionheart looked at the lockup. He could use his terrific strength to simply tear it open, but who knew what explosives, poison gas clouds, giant robots or other outlandish revenge devices would burst into life?

Admin wrote:Lionheart looked at the lockup. He could use his terrific strength to simply tear it open, but who knew what explosives, poison gas clouds, giant robots or other outlandish revenge devices would burst into life?

Along the journey Lionheart had remained quiet after putting across his thoughts about going straight. As they arrived at the lock up he finally spoke up.
"What about changing sides? If doing something is so inevitable and it seems that this is the one chance you've got, what would you do if another offer came your way?"

Lionheart hadn't worked out all the possible repercussions, but if someone like this could be turned rehabilitated and used to do some good. Then maybe, maybe he had a way out of an inevitable life of crime.

OOC:
Though I don't know if this young man and his villainous grandfather can be trusted, I am thinking that sometimes the best way to catch a thief... Besides which, he is right, the current system doesn't reward people for going or staying straight unless they are motivated by a set of higher ideals.

In any case I don't want him to go in alone, I suspect if he does that whatever possible reason his Grandfather has for getting it out, will only lead him further down the dark path he thinks is so inevitable.

To that end we go in together, or not at all and on that I am firm. If we don't go in we look for another solution, but I am not letting this lad out of my sight.

Sj

The young man shrugs. "At this moment I'm a criminal on parole, no money, no friends, here at someone elses' wishes. I'm open to all offers, be daft not to."

The lockup seemed innocuous - secure with thick iron barred doors and with shutters down - save for the slightly out of place security panel for retinal scanning and fingerprints. It'd been attacked by someone at some point, probably several points, but the thing was durable, even if it looked somewhat second hand.

The lad shrugged, glanced at Lionheart then shrugged again. "Worth a punt. Hand on there then... lean in?"

At a nod from Lionheart he did so and somewhere inside the building motors whirred and bolts slammed aside. About twenty feet up on the wall a panel opened and a bulky camera jutted out. Lionheart recognised a laser gun beneath the camera at the same time his danger sense warned him. A thought put his personal forcefield up, and he felt sure his speed could place him between the weapon and the boy in a split second, but it did not fire, merely observed.

Inside, the place was a workshop, cluttered, bits of half finished or broken technology everywhere. The old man was a mad genius, and quite evil, but his hands had hardly ever been idle.

The lights were dim, but came on in a line between rows of shelving and directed the pair to the middle of the room, where what appeared to be a clothes - or armour - horse stood, and hanging from it several items of note. A ... girdle, with backpack, a large belt, bracers, boots, helmet, and an all black jumpsuit in a similar material to a wetsuit but Lionheart suspected it was something else.

A SLAM! indicated the outer door was closed and sealed. Lionheart glanced about. The inside of the place was reinforced, and he saw 'emitters' bathing the inside of the walls in a dim light. Force field? The old man was ...

"A genius. By any measure." muttered the young man, approaching the armour horse. "Do you think I should put it on? And... and then what?"

Admin wrote:"A genius. By any measure." muttered the young man, approaching the armour horse. "Do you think I should put it on? And... and then what?"

Lionheart thought for a moment before shaking his head. He remembered what the old man had said, what their bargain was.

Admin wrote:"I will give you an address, one of many safehouses. He is to take the money, a new identity and leave the country, forgetting crime, any association with me or my enemies, and forge his own legacy, using his undoubted blossoming genius for something other than crime."

"Your grandfather only wanted you brought here so you can get out what you needed to start over. He was...is convinced there is far more to you than perhaps even you know. A 'blossoming genius' is what he called you. If his estimation is correct, then you could do a lot more with that up there and going straight shouldn't be so hard. After all, why not work for the right side, someone with your talents need not be on the run, could do some good. Feel good as well not having to constantly live hand to mouth, job to job? Get what you need or start again, start right. Not many people get a second chance, especially having turned down the road you've gone. Don't turn it down lightly?"

Lionheart lent against the wall, waiting for the young man to measure the truth of his words. If he was as clever as was suggested, he could easily see that there was a lot more to gain from this. After all if one member of the family, despite their clear talent couldn't make a go of it, why not now try working for the right side of the law and prove everyone wrong.

Sj

The ex prisoner considered Lionhearts words, then nodded. "I tried one path, it didn't work out so well. I will try another. As for 'blossoming genius'? Well, I was never much interested in much at school and I'll admit I don't do well at crosswords."

He laughed, then added "Sudoku, whatever. Let's put the damn thing on."

He stripped to his underwear, pulled on the jumpsuit - which fit like a glove - and donned the rest, helmet last. "Don't feel any different."

With a shrug he casually placed the helmet on his head.

And screamed!

Lionheart raced forward, hands reaching for the helmet, but a hand ... no something else stopped him. The hero frowned, pushed, and the young man grunted. "It's... it's alright. I think. I... don't grab for the helmet. It's done something... inside... I..."

He looked up, smiling at Lionheart as his eyes glowed bright blue. "I see."

He turned about, and with a slight gesture have a dozen objects floated into the air at head height, then remained there, immobile. "My mind... it's expanding! I can see... think... do more."

Lionheart didn't sense danger, as such, but he COULD sense a field of mental energy about the boy. As strong as his own? Perhaps. This armour, as it was, had been designed to elevate the boys mind to nearly 100% capacity, to unlock mental powers and give him the means to strike out on a path of his choosing. He could be a dangerous opponent, one Lionheart had the opportunity of stopping right now, before he became fully versed in his new abilities or...

...or he might be a powerful ally.

The man from the future realised that he was acting in the role of sign post for this young man. Wherever he went from here, Lionheart would have a hand in it...