One of the Boys ((Story))
One of the Boys
Rating: R
I fought the law, and I won. - The Dead Kennedy's version
"Dylan Hanlon, while this court finds your personal judgement questionable, we find no evidence of wrongdoing. Your license is therefore reinstated with your existing security level and privileges." Statesman gave his notes one last straightening snap and rose to leave.
Three seats to the left Synapse stood and gestured Dylan forward. "This is yours" he said with a warm smile handing over Diamond D's medcom.
Rain didn't wait for them. He vaulted over the barrier and darted over to the two heroes. Dylan scooped him up in a warm, relieved and reasonably decorous hug, his eyes blazing like Muzo emeralds. Rain looked over Dee's shoulder at Synapse and held out his right hand. Synapse took it in a friendly grip. "Thank you." Rain silently mouthed to him. Synapse gave his hand a squeeze and smiled from behind his mask. It had been worth it.
----------------------
Ms Liberty was lingering behind in the chambers organising some notes on her PDA when a bandaged finger tapped her on the shoulder.
"Justin? Can I do something for you?" The tone was proper but not cordial.
"Megan, let's talk. You have something I want."
The Next Afternoon
Recluse's Victory was an odd place. A pocket universe in a continual state of quantum flux. It was a dangerous place by all accounts but the Rikti - the bane of so many other dangerous places - were not amongst it's attractions. All the odder then that the message planted in the local paper by Tom's broker asking to meed him here had borne a Vanguard codeword. There wasn't much to go on - just a time and coordinates almost too courteously close to the Arachnos-controlled portal. Tom suspected a trap. He'd considered and rejected the option of asking Angus along as backup. If this was genuine it might scare his contact away. Worse - it might telegraph weakness.
He was a hundred yards out when the sun caught the glitter of ice refracting on the ledge of the war wall. It was Diamond D. Tom approached in a slow, unaggressive spiral. Dylan dissolved his shields and waved.
"Dee." Tom said cautiously.
Dylan stepped forward, took Tom's hands in his and gripped them warmly. "I'm sorry I left you hanging Tom. Things have been weird."
Tom shrugged. "Story of my life. What do you need Dee?"
Dylan gave him an odd sideways look. He seated himself on the edge of the war wall and dangled his legs over the dizzying ledge. "You've been in the Isles too long Tom if you think everyone wants something from you."
Tom sat down beside him. "That's everywhere, not just the Isles. And I already knew it."
"Fair enough." Dee pulled a slim steel case out of his waistband, flicked it open and fished out a cigarette. He only smoked when he was feeling contemplative or nervous or both. When he did he invariably binge smoked. He offered Tom the case. He declined. "I did my best for Eric. Thought you'd want to know."
"Thanks."
Dylan scanned the horizon briefly. "You didn't bring Adair?"
Tom frowned. How did he...? Dee saw the expression and chuckled. "I bumped into Manticore. Good job by the way. Bastard's still limping while they clone him a few new toes." He leaned over a bit. "I'm happy for both of you."
Tom let Dee sit and smoke in silence for a while. Finally he drew up one leg and half turned toward him. "Dee, you're not here to gossip about my love life. Talk to me."
Dylan nervously tugged a second unfiltered from the case and lit it from the first one. "Did you know that Frostfire was never initiated?"
That was quite a left turn in the conversation. Tom cocked his head at the notion. He'd never thought of Frostfire coming up through the ranks like normal people. Allowing for a broad definition of "normal" of course.
Dee slumped forward and managed to look old for a man Tom knew was twenty-five at most."I knew a guy back when I just started. A Torch. Took care of me sort of. He went way back before Frosty took over as leader. He told me the initiation was different back then. Guys were sponsored in those days. Like a buddy system. The new guy belonged to his buddy. No one touched him unless his buddy said so."
He had told Rain that story once a year or two back. Rain had muttered something about Thebes and gone back to his paper. It had been around then that Dylan had bought a laptop so he could read Wikipedia.
"Huh" Tom grunted. Why was Dee lecturing him on Outcast social history? "So what changed?"
Dylan contemplated the cigarette. "Frosty likes it rough and he likes to watch. You noticed how he likes to make things in his own image?"
Tom's shoulders slumped. "Yeah."
The Previous Night
DeeDee Hanlon, dressed for the Hollows, marched into the North base. He passed a scowling Bedrock on the second floor. The enforcer had some notion that DeeDee and the boss had some quarrel between them but he had no orders to keep him out. DeeDee spun on his heel and pointed a commanding finger at him.
"Bedrock. Take some extra men off patrol in Four Corners and put them on the front door. I want privacy. No visitors. No prisoners. No exceptions."
Bedrock frowned. He opened his mouth to formulate some objection but couldn't think of one. DeeDee was bigger. He grunted and loped off to follow orders. It was a wet night. Visitors would be unlikely.
The common room was full and buzzing with activity. No one wanted to be out in the rain. Frostfire's face twisted in anger at his entry. "You got a nerve showing up here DeeDee. What the fuck do you want now?"
Dylan grabbed Frostfire's wrist, twisted him around with a easy flick and slammed him down to his knees. The Outcast boss howled, more from anger then pain. His imps bloomed and almost instantly popped on the blades of a couple of body icicles. Every man tensed. The room went still.
"Unfinished business, Kevin." Frostfire twisted in his grip and growled at the insubordinate use of his name. Dylan squeezed harder and tore a bone fide howl of pain out of him.
"You. Amps." He nodded the senior Charger forward. Holding Frostfire easily with one hand, he fished into his left pocket and tossed a metal implement onto the floor with a clatter. Amps blanched pale blue-grey and looked from the floor to the tense and silent audience and back to Dylan, his eyes like saucers with fear and indecision.
"Well?" DeeDee barked. "What are you waiting for?"
Amps bent slowly, almost ritualistically before the big Chiller. He picked up the scissors, laid his hand on Frostfire's head and started cutting.
Tom mind swirled. "You fed Frosty to his own men?" He swallowed and forced down a hysterical laugh. "Good!" He nodded firmly.
Dylan cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Tom? An eye for an eye?"
"Why not?" Tom clenched his jaw. He thought back to that first night. To Eric and all the other first nights and all the broken young men the monster had left behind.
Dylan blew the smoke out into the breeze."All that gets you is a nation of the toothless and the blind. And no. I didn't."
He looked over at Tom and saw the fury in his eyes. "If I destroy Frostfire I destroy the Outcasts, and messed up or not Paragon City needs the Outcasts. They preserve the balance of power for that whole section of the city. They're the only ones keeping the Trolls in check and that's harder then you think with the Skulls bankrolling them. Look at Eastgate. The Lost are already infiltrating and I know for a fact that 'dine arrests in Skyway are going up."
He tapped his cigarette out on the war wall and fished out another. "They keep the Tsoo from dominating Steel Canyon more then they already do and they're the only ones holding the Council back from the Baumton gate. They ferret out information that I need and I don't give a rat's ass how they get it. Neither does Vanguard. No one forces the marks to drop their pants."
Tom clenched his fists angrily. "So you just let him go?"
Dylan looked away, not meeting Tom's eyes. "I didn't say that."
Tom was getting sick of the evasions. A few months ago he'd have gotten angry, but this was now and he didn't feel powerless anymore. "What are you dancing around Dee?"
Dylan turned, looked him right in the eye and spoke slowly and clearly, his eyes cold as his armor. "I fixed things. Made them like they used to be. The Outcasts will obey Frostfire and Frostfire will obey me."
Tom Frost, Chiller, paused a moment as the pieces of the socio-political puzzle fell into place. It was monstrous. It was perfect. "You... you, initiated him old style...?" He gasped.
Dylan nodded and smiled. A satisfied smile. "In the common room of the North Base. With about fifty witnesses." He studied Tom's expression, saw the astonished comprehension march across it. "I made it clear Frosty is no one's but mine and that anyone who thought this was a good time for a power grab could try grabbing it from me."
He left out the technicolour details. The hooting and cheering of four dozen Outcasts. The dizzy sting of 'dine fumes wafting through the flickering, torch lit room. The sticky, pungent beer suds spraying across his back and slicking his grip. Another time maybe when he and Tom had downed a few. Or a lot.
He flicked the ash from his third cigarette. "Anyway why should I be bothered with the day-to-day management? Frosty handles most of it just fine. He has his qualities. He's brave as a bear, he's detail oriented, he reads people well and he has a knack for administration. He's also a sadistic control freak and he gets mean when he drinks, which is too much and too often, but I can work with that."
DeeDee Hanlon took a last drag, his face a closed mask. He flicked the butt over the edge, stood and brushed the cement dust off his backside. He held out a hand and pulled Tom to his feet.
"So." Tom said guardedly. "Is this where we discuss my agenda in the Rogue Isles?"
"Honestly Tom?" Dylan replied. "That was one of the options. I wasn't sure though. I didn't know what or who I'd find out here. But now I have a feeling that you're not in the market for a new boss. Am I right?"
"Afraid not DeeDee." He deliberately used Dylan's gang handle. "Is that a problem?"
Dylan studied the pavement. "Naw. That was one of the other options."
Tom felt a pang of sadness for this Chiller who had come so far, seemingly only to end back where he started. He stepped closer and laid a hand gently on Dylan's chest. "Dee" he said softly "Are you sure about this?"
He placed his hand over Tom's and smiled sweetly.
"You see a small-time gang. I see the core of something I can make great. Frostfire turned the Outcasts into an extension of himself. They're small because he thinks small, but I'm not small, Tom. I've traveled to other worlds, I've been to war, I've battled monsters and I'm married to a guy who can tell you what the Crab Nebula looks like from the other side. I think big. I can -fly- Tom, and no one who flys can ever be small again."
He looked out across the panorama of the Other Atlas Park and invited Tom to follow his gaze. "There's a whole world of people out there who are happy to let mutants fight the Rikti for them but won't give one a job. I'm going to take my people out of their holes in the ground, organise them, educate them and forge them into an army of builders, thinkers and fighters. I said once I'd carve them a home out of whoever's flesh needs carving and some of that will be their own."
He grinned. His eyes glowing with ambition. "I'm going to turn thugs into activists and operatives, but first we've got to decamp from Eastgate, clear out the psychos and wean the rest off the drugs. Frosty can do that better then I can. I'm not moving back to some squat. My life is with Rain."
Tom shook his head. "That will take years..."
Dylan tossed his head and laughed, light flicking off his hair like rubies. "Decades, Tom! A lifetime probably. I have very ambitious plans. It's ok - I'm young."
"Dee..." Tom laid his hands on his broad chest. "You know what happens to people who try to break other people's chains."
Dee nodded. "I'm pretty bullet-proof."
Dylan gripped his waist softly and pulled him close. It was an embrace that made no promises, but it was warm and Dee was a brother so Tom relaxed into the touch like any Outcast would. He felt the bigger man sigh happily and wrapped his arms a bit tighter. It was Dee who needed the hug, not him.
A voice spoke softly into one ear, as if even at the roof of the world he feared being overheard. "If it ever hits the fan Tom, if the Isles get to you, come home. No strings attached. You're strong. We could use you."
Tom rested his head on a broad shoulder and weighed the potentialities. Maybe it was a good thing to have options. "Maybe." he mused. "If I ever decide the bricks need a new coat of paint."
"Huh?"
"Nothing, boss."
Rating: R
I fought the law, and I won. - The Dead Kennedy's version
"Dylan Hanlon, while this court finds your personal judgement questionable, we find no evidence of wrongdoing. Your license is therefore reinstated with your existing security level and privileges." Statesman gave his notes one last straightening snap and rose to leave.
Three seats to the left Synapse stood and gestured Dylan forward. "This is yours" he said with a warm smile handing over Diamond D's medcom.
Rain didn't wait for them. He vaulted over the barrier and darted over to the two heroes. Dylan scooped him up in a warm, relieved and reasonably decorous hug, his eyes blazing like Muzo emeralds. Rain looked over Dee's shoulder at Synapse and held out his right hand. Synapse took it in a friendly grip. "Thank you." Rain silently mouthed to him. Synapse gave his hand a squeeze and smiled from behind his mask. It had been worth it.
----------------------
Ms Liberty was lingering behind in the chambers organising some notes on her PDA when a bandaged finger tapped her on the shoulder.
"Justin? Can I do something for you?" The tone was proper but not cordial.
"Megan, let's talk. You have something I want."
The Next Afternoon
Recluse's Victory was an odd place. A pocket universe in a continual state of quantum flux. It was a dangerous place by all accounts but the Rikti - the bane of so many other dangerous places - were not amongst it's attractions. All the odder then that the message planted in the local paper by Tom's broker asking to meed him here had borne a Vanguard codeword. There wasn't much to go on - just a time and coordinates almost too courteously close to the Arachnos-controlled portal. Tom suspected a trap. He'd considered and rejected the option of asking Angus along as backup. If this was genuine it might scare his contact away. Worse - it might telegraph weakness.
He was a hundred yards out when the sun caught the glitter of ice refracting on the ledge of the war wall. It was Diamond D. Tom approached in a slow, unaggressive spiral. Dylan dissolved his shields and waved.
"Dee." Tom said cautiously.
Dylan stepped forward, took Tom's hands in his and gripped them warmly. "I'm sorry I left you hanging Tom. Things have been weird."
Tom shrugged. "Story of my life. What do you need Dee?"
Dylan gave him an odd sideways look. He seated himself on the edge of the war wall and dangled his legs over the dizzying ledge. "You've been in the Isles too long Tom if you think everyone wants something from you."
Tom sat down beside him. "That's everywhere, not just the Isles. And I already knew it."
"Fair enough." Dee pulled a slim steel case out of his waistband, flicked it open and fished out a cigarette. He only smoked when he was feeling contemplative or nervous or both. When he did he invariably binge smoked. He offered Tom the case. He declined. "I did my best for Eric. Thought you'd want to know."
"Thanks."
Dylan scanned the horizon briefly. "You didn't bring Adair?"
Tom frowned. How did he...? Dee saw the expression and chuckled. "I bumped into Manticore. Good job by the way. Bastard's still limping while they clone him a few new toes." He leaned over a bit. "I'm happy for both of you."
Tom let Dee sit and smoke in silence for a while. Finally he drew up one leg and half turned toward him. "Dee, you're not here to gossip about my love life. Talk to me."
Dylan nervously tugged a second unfiltered from the case and lit it from the first one. "Did you know that Frostfire was never initiated?"
That was quite a left turn in the conversation. Tom cocked his head at the notion. He'd never thought of Frostfire coming up through the ranks like normal people. Allowing for a broad definition of "normal" of course.
Dee slumped forward and managed to look old for a man Tom knew was twenty-five at most."I knew a guy back when I just started. A Torch. Took care of me sort of. He went way back before Frosty took over as leader. He told me the initiation was different back then. Guys were sponsored in those days. Like a buddy system. The new guy belonged to his buddy. No one touched him unless his buddy said so."
He had told Rain that story once a year or two back. Rain had muttered something about Thebes and gone back to his paper. It had been around then that Dylan had bought a laptop so he could read Wikipedia.
"Huh" Tom grunted. Why was Dee lecturing him on Outcast social history? "So what changed?"
Dylan contemplated the cigarette. "Frosty likes it rough and he likes to watch. You noticed how he likes to make things in his own image?"
Tom's shoulders slumped. "Yeah."
The Previous Night
DeeDee Hanlon, dressed for the Hollows, marched into the North base. He passed a scowling Bedrock on the second floor. The enforcer had some notion that DeeDee and the boss had some quarrel between them but he had no orders to keep him out. DeeDee spun on his heel and pointed a commanding finger at him.
"Bedrock. Take some extra men off patrol in Four Corners and put them on the front door. I want privacy. No visitors. No prisoners. No exceptions."
Bedrock frowned. He opened his mouth to formulate some objection but couldn't think of one. DeeDee was bigger. He grunted and loped off to follow orders. It was a wet night. Visitors would be unlikely.
The common room was full and buzzing with activity. No one wanted to be out in the rain. Frostfire's face twisted in anger at his entry. "You got a nerve showing up here DeeDee. What the fuck do you want now?"
Dylan grabbed Frostfire's wrist, twisted him around with a easy flick and slammed him down to his knees. The Outcast boss howled, more from anger then pain. His imps bloomed and almost instantly popped on the blades of a couple of body icicles. Every man tensed. The room went still.
"Unfinished business, Kevin." Frostfire twisted in his grip and growled at the insubordinate use of his name. Dylan squeezed harder and tore a bone fide howl of pain out of him.
"You. Amps." He nodded the senior Charger forward. Holding Frostfire easily with one hand, he fished into his left pocket and tossed a metal implement onto the floor with a clatter. Amps blanched pale blue-grey and looked from the floor to the tense and silent audience and back to Dylan, his eyes like saucers with fear and indecision.
"Well?" DeeDee barked. "What are you waiting for?"
Amps bent slowly, almost ritualistically before the big Chiller. He picked up the scissors, laid his hand on Frostfire's head and started cutting.
Tom mind swirled. "You fed Frosty to his own men?" He swallowed and forced down a hysterical laugh. "Good!" He nodded firmly.
Dylan cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Tom? An eye for an eye?"
"Why not?" Tom clenched his jaw. He thought back to that first night. To Eric and all the other first nights and all the broken young men the monster had left behind.
Dylan blew the smoke out into the breeze."All that gets you is a nation of the toothless and the blind. And no. I didn't."
He looked over at Tom and saw the fury in his eyes. "If I destroy Frostfire I destroy the Outcasts, and messed up or not Paragon City needs the Outcasts. They preserve the balance of power for that whole section of the city. They're the only ones keeping the Trolls in check and that's harder then you think with the Skulls bankrolling them. Look at Eastgate. The Lost are already infiltrating and I know for a fact that 'dine arrests in Skyway are going up."
He tapped his cigarette out on the war wall and fished out another. "They keep the Tsoo from dominating Steel Canyon more then they already do and they're the only ones holding the Council back from the Baumton gate. They ferret out information that I need and I don't give a rat's ass how they get it. Neither does Vanguard. No one forces the marks to drop their pants."
Tom clenched his fists angrily. "So you just let him go?"
Dylan looked away, not meeting Tom's eyes. "I didn't say that."
Tom was getting sick of the evasions. A few months ago he'd have gotten angry, but this was now and he didn't feel powerless anymore. "What are you dancing around Dee?"
Dylan turned, looked him right in the eye and spoke slowly and clearly, his eyes cold as his armor. "I fixed things. Made them like they used to be. The Outcasts will obey Frostfire and Frostfire will obey me."
Tom Frost, Chiller, paused a moment as the pieces of the socio-political puzzle fell into place. It was monstrous. It was perfect. "You... you, initiated him old style...?" He gasped.
Dylan nodded and smiled. A satisfied smile. "In the common room of the North Base. With about fifty witnesses." He studied Tom's expression, saw the astonished comprehension march across it. "I made it clear Frosty is no one's but mine and that anyone who thought this was a good time for a power grab could try grabbing it from me."
He left out the technicolour details. The hooting and cheering of four dozen Outcasts. The dizzy sting of 'dine fumes wafting through the flickering, torch lit room. The sticky, pungent beer suds spraying across his back and slicking his grip. Another time maybe when he and Tom had downed a few. Or a lot.
He flicked the ash from his third cigarette. "Anyway why should I be bothered with the day-to-day management? Frosty handles most of it just fine. He has his qualities. He's brave as a bear, he's detail oriented, he reads people well and he has a knack for administration. He's also a sadistic control freak and he gets mean when he drinks, which is too much and too often, but I can work with that."
DeeDee Hanlon took a last drag, his face a closed mask. He flicked the butt over the edge, stood and brushed the cement dust off his backside. He held out a hand and pulled Tom to his feet.
"So." Tom said guardedly. "Is this where we discuss my agenda in the Rogue Isles?"
"Honestly Tom?" Dylan replied. "That was one of the options. I wasn't sure though. I didn't know what or who I'd find out here. But now I have a feeling that you're not in the market for a new boss. Am I right?"
"Afraid not DeeDee." He deliberately used Dylan's gang handle. "Is that a problem?"
Dylan studied the pavement. "Naw. That was one of the other options."
Tom felt a pang of sadness for this Chiller who had come so far, seemingly only to end back where he started. He stepped closer and laid a hand gently on Dylan's chest. "Dee" he said softly "Are you sure about this?"
He placed his hand over Tom's and smiled sweetly.
"You see a small-time gang. I see the core of something I can make great. Frostfire turned the Outcasts into an extension of himself. They're small because he thinks small, but I'm not small, Tom. I've traveled to other worlds, I've been to war, I've battled monsters and I'm married to a guy who can tell you what the Crab Nebula looks like from the other side. I think big. I can -fly- Tom, and no one who flys can ever be small again."
He looked out across the panorama of the Other Atlas Park and invited Tom to follow his gaze. "There's a whole world of people out there who are happy to let mutants fight the Rikti for them but won't give one a job. I'm going to take my people out of their holes in the ground, organise them, educate them and forge them into an army of builders, thinkers and fighters. I said once I'd carve them a home out of whoever's flesh needs carving and some of that will be their own."
He grinned. His eyes glowing with ambition. "I'm going to turn thugs into activists and operatives, but first we've got to decamp from Eastgate, clear out the psychos and wean the rest off the drugs. Frosty can do that better then I can. I'm not moving back to some squat. My life is with Rain."
Tom shook his head. "That will take years..."
Dylan tossed his head and laughed, light flicking off his hair like rubies. "Decades, Tom! A lifetime probably. I have very ambitious plans. It's ok - I'm young."
"Dee..." Tom laid his hands on his broad chest. "You know what happens to people who try to break other people's chains."
Dee nodded. "I'm pretty bullet-proof."
Dylan gripped his waist softly and pulled him close. It was an embrace that made no promises, but it was warm and Dee was a brother so Tom relaxed into the touch like any Outcast would. He felt the bigger man sigh happily and wrapped his arms a bit tighter. It was Dee who needed the hug, not him.
A voice spoke softly into one ear, as if even at the roof of the world he feared being overheard. "If it ever hits the fan Tom, if the Isles get to you, come home. No strings attached. You're strong. We could use you."
Tom rested his head on a broad shoulder and weighed the potentialities. Maybe it was a good thing to have options. "Maybe." he mused. "If I ever decide the bricks need a new coat of paint."
"Huh?"
"Nothing, boss."