Multiple Settings Heroes of the New Age: The New Wardens [CLOSED]

[Lady Moldoma]

from the shadows casted by Bruce, emerged Shadeling who was carrying some small tied up boxes in his hands. Avery looked at Shadeling and then at the seemingly normal customer sitting by the counter.

Mamimi quietly exhumed herself from the kitchen, having finished a few extra small things as the rest of the group spoke. It was only whenever the shadows in the room began to move erratically that her eyes traced around, jumping between the various spots of darkness.

Her eyes eventually centered on a specific shadow, just a few moments before Shadeling’s emergence at the exact spot.

“I see… that lines up then…” she mumbled. Implicating she had figured out something about how Shadeling chose to appear.

Mamimi proceeded to watch and listen to the conversation closely.

Her hands were together, still rough and covered in scars from her years of being in the woods or being abused.

Her outfit was something she had made for herself, learning to sew among other things, in the last month that she had been staying with Sentinel. It was a combination of her own drive to prove to people that she was worth something that she managed to learn things at such an accelerated rate despite the absurdity of such a proposal.

The outfit consisted of a flowing black dress of intricate patternwork ending in a red band. And a white maid’s apron with a white scarf punctuated with a bow.

Her hair was done up into a long, hanging ponytail that was held in a topnot by a ribbon and a candy-skull bead. Now that it came to light, there were in fact several skull designs and sometimes small candy skulls on her dress. Along with adornments of black flowers.

She recalled with nostalgia how Giana had taken a particular interest in Mamimi’s hair, saying that the hair itself almost seemed to guide her scissors towards something that Mamimi would like. In this case, Mamimi's hairstyle seemed to have guided giana to styling it into a long topknot ponytail that hung down to Mamimi's own knees, almost like some sort of weird tail on her head made of her own slick pink hair.

Mamimi had begun wearing incredibly dark eyeliner to cover up her tired, worn eyes. Only a stark and dark yet thin height wise shading of black on her lips.

The dress was somewhat extravangant. It was hard to believe she had made it out of cannibalizing various outfits from a thrift store.

"Oh yeah! Wish me luck!" Shadeling then said, disappearing into the shadow casted by Sentinel. He then looked at Mamimi and Avery and smiled: "You girls ready? Wait, first you should get to know one another!"

"Very well..." Mamimi approached Avery and leaned in to examine her like some sort of alien or machine probing and observing her.

“My name is Mamimi Lordgenome. I have been in residence by the generosity of Sentinel for about a month now.” Mamimi began, taking her dress in either hand on either side, and curtseying with a bow, her face a monotonous expression of passive unimpressive and hollowness.

“How do you do?” She asked, tilting her head slightly as she asked Avery.

That way of speaking was a form of mild-mannered, cleanliness, but one that was totally hollow, a hardened, impenetrable shell that hid suffering behind her own skull-shaped irises, the redness of which had dulled significantly into a maroon, not nearly the same striking ferocity she had whenever she felt every day would be a struggle to survive. It didn't even seem like an adaptation of the people around her.

It was a transitional state, someone who was trying to get better. And even now, the exhausted bags under her eyes from the mental taxation of learning to live among others again could be hidden with no makeup nor character facade.

It might've been creepy if...

Well It was creepy...

She didn't really understand how to talk to people, she was told to put her best foot forwards in that manner, but she didn't have one of those, so she had to imagine one. She assumed it was sort of between a maid and a living doll.

If she had decided to speak openly, hide nothing, she probably would've just greeted Avery with a "Yo... What's your deal?" but that never had even surfaced.

A month is a good amount of time to fix some things, but not all things. At least she wasn't swearing at the top of her lungs. Though forcibly and yet voluntarily neutering her own emotions wasn't much better.

That being said, near death experiences can change people pretty wildly, and she'd been going through one long near death experience for about the past 4 years up until meeting sentinel.

 

[joshuadim]

Avery had turned to meet Mamimi when Sentinel spoke on introducing one another, and was quiet as she spoke. It was hard to tell what her reaction was at first, with mouth slightly agape, before her expression softened and drew visible curiosity across it. It was obvious that whatever offputting factor that there would have been had been offset by the genuine excitement exhibited by Avery as she stood closer and observed Mamimi's features. "Whoa... are your powers tied to your looks? What are your powers?" she asked at first, before sprinting to her next line of questioning as she darted behind Mamimi and continued to observe. "Have you used your powers often? Do you like your powers?" She then barraged Mamimi with more innocuous questions as she circled her, seemingly getting lost in her own thoughts before realizing just how overbearing she had been and took a step back.

"Sorry... never met another supe before like this... or ever, really. Actually, I did meet Sentinel last week but that's a whole other story!" Avery looked back to the man before continuing, "It's just, so cool meeting people with powers! Y'know?" She extended a hand to Mamimi for a shake: "I'm Avery. I, uh... I got my powers last week. Almost blew up my city with it on accident, apparently. But I'm better now! I think... at least, Shadeling told me so."

"I trust his word." Tyrell chimed in, walking past the duo towards the kitchen to clean up one of the counters. "He's the one who did the science on you."

Avery's eyes followed Tyrell, and she rubbed the back of her head awkwardly: "Yeah..."

She then returned attention back to Mamimi with a stupid grin: "It's great to meet you, Mamimi!"

Lady Moldoma

 

[Lady Moldoma]

"Whoa... are your powers tied to your looks? What are your powers?"

"Have you used your powers often? Do you like your powers?"

"It's just, so cool meeting people with powers! Y'know?"

"1. Yes, my powers manifested in part through demonic bodily traits, unhealable scars and wounds, skull shaped irises, and gray skin." She begins. "They have done nothing but cause me dismay and made it hard for me to fit in. Unfortunately, they also make me too stubborn to give up on life. Even if I just wanted to lay down and starve myself, my body on its lonesome would start to move to find something to eat."

"I am grumpy when I wake up, it's best if we hope that doesn't happen to me, or someone trying to help me might end up on the receiving end of that grumpiness..."

"2. We assume they are some sort of infernal ancestry or cambion heritage alongside biological adaptation and evolutionary progression." She says. "Shadeling has taken a look, and we were also lucky enough to speak to an alumni of the Academy of Annwn, who stated that, while he could tell it was somewhat demonic, most of my powers would fall under some variety of 'inexplicable' or 'anomalous' as they are deeply ingrained into a foreign nature, albeit not extraterrestrial."

"3. Continuously for 4 years. If you consider having horns and being horribly ugly a power, then continuously for 18 years." She states

"4. No. But I wouldn't want to not have them either." She begins again, her tone becoming slightly more venomous. "I want a third option. I always want a third option."

Mamimi still spoke monotonously for most of this, but it was clear she was touchy about the subject, even just her words seemed like a defensive maneuver.

"5. In that alone, I suppose I am charmed to meet your acquaintance."

 

[simj26]

Kisara McDowellA trial. Probation period. A part time job, on top of the part time job. That was what she told America’s greatest hero. It interested her, this whole ‘being a hero’ thing, make no mistake. It was an honor, truly, to be handpicked by one of America’s greatest heroes to partake in this project. That said, however, she never quite enjoyed working in a team. As a pair with the detective, maybe, but not in a group of more than two. There was, after all, a huge difference in temperament and work ethic between chefs in a fancy Michelin star restaurant and cooking a nice meal at home. Too much coordination needed, too many hands about the kitchen. Her pace was her own, and she would rather like it if she could determine what medium-rare was for herself, rather than telling others or being told by others.

Worse, she probably wasn’t even being paid for this. She could probably hire herself on as a consultant, take in some pocket money per session. Something that the group couldn’t figure out racking their brains together. Something that needed her specific expertise.

Which wasn’t much. She didn’t offer too much to the table. Home-grown and home-cooked experiences as they were. She would be standing alongside people who have trained hard in many aspects. Combat experts, powerful superpowers, probably a rich philanthropist somewhere in the middle that owned a fully functional mech suit. Why they would pick a woman with dirt-caked boots, half-falling apart, to be part of this was beyond her. Perhaps they weren’t as competent as she initially assumed. Perhaps they were running out of actual heroes to rope into some hare-brained scheme, and she was an afterthought.

Puzzles were meant to be solved, and right now, she lacked the pieces to complete the full picture. The only option available was to pick up what the great American hero was leaving behind.

“So you pressed the button just like that?”

“I mean…” Her mind raced through the excuses she could give as she paced about the back alley she had only just materialised a few minutes ago. “Yeah?” She could not find one.

She could almost see the detective resting his head on his hands in exasperation over the phone. “You could have waited for me to arrive, just in case.”

“In this traffic?”

A scoff. “Fine. As long as you’re safe. At the very least, this’ll be a good story for the kids this weekend.”

He was getting them this week, huh? She should probably get them something, then. Much as she hated being called ‘auntie’ by them, she could only attribute that appellation to Carter. Maybe Sentinel had some merch lying around in his hideout. She stopped pacing and looked over at the diner. Hell of a hideout though. Maybe it had some secret basement. She couldn’t imagine hanging out in a hideout that smelled like food every day. It’d be too distracting. She could never work in the F&B sector.

“Right. See you later, detective.”

“You too, Demon Detective.”

“I told you to–” she started, before being stopped abruptly by a dead tone. “No one calls me that,” she muttered darkly under her breath as she shoved the phone into her jacket. “Whatever.”

In her pacing, she had concluded the scent was similar to Sentinel’s. What the shadow guest had left on her desk as she was dusting the place had been true on one front- it did take her to Sentinel. The thickness of the smell couldn’t be a temporary thing either, and besides, who would put so much thought into an ambush, if it were one? Especially for someone like her. If anything, they should have jumped her the moment she materialised in this alleyway.

If it sounded as if she couldn’t trust Sentinel, it was because it was exactly that. Heroes, villains, monsters, humans, she couldn’t trust anything or anyone. So many things were buried under the surface, no being could be perfect. It was a hard-earned privilege, and as much as Sentinel did good for the people, she didn’t know him.

That’s why she was here to pick up the puzzle pieces.

She rounded about the diner, out the alley and towards the front. There was life inside, despite the ‘CLOSED’ sign hanging out front. They didn’t look like employees just hanging out either. One was a remarkably normal-looking gal with short brown hair, and the other was…a fellow horned being with pink hair. Kisara reached up and tugged on her own mop of unruly locks, suddenly quite self-conscious. Someone probably had to go home and change out.



This sucks. She hadn’t even stepped in yet, and she was already clashing with any idea of team dynamics. In any hero team, everyone had their own unique colors and looks, and here she was, just messing it all up. What if she was mistaken as this other gal? Worse, what if the other gal was mistaken to be her? That’d screw up her life. At least with Carter, the only similarities between them was that both of them were going through it in life. Being mistaken for a middle-aged, bearded chain-smoking detective, and vice versa, was probably more flattering for either of them. This just sucks, this mega sucks.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Sentinel had to admit, he was a bit worried for Mamimi; ever since she had been working at the restaurant she'd been trying to fit in to the best of her ability. But, instead, she came off as a bit distant and blunt - though thankfully his family didn't mind and, in fact, seemed to be aware of Mamimi's efforts. They often tried to get her to relax and be herself, albeit with little success thus far. It was obvious that there was a ways to go on that front, and only time would tell. It appeared that Avery didn't mind Mamimi's bluntness and direct answers, and to that he was thankful as well. The two were completely different, but it seemed that didn't get in the way for the time being. He then noticed someone standing outside the restaurant, who was reluctant to enter. He squinted his eyes only to see Kisara, and he quickly walked over to the door and opened it for her. "Kisara! Come on in my friend!" he said with a big smile on his face.

 

[simj26]

Kisara McDowellWhy was he coming over here? Gods, this was terrible. Now she just looked like a weirdo just staring in. This sucked, this sucked so bad. Right, she could pretend to be fixing her hair. She could pretend that she wasn't actually supposed to be here, just happened by. As if any of that would work. Her hair was practically physically impossible to fix, and Sentinel already knew she was supposed to be here. Probably.

The door swung open, and she stifled a squeak, managing to compose herself in time. She straightened out her jacket, and put on her best idea of composure. "Glad to be here," she managed, shoving down all the emotions down into the pit of her stomach. She stepped through the threshold, and dropped herself onto one of the chairs. She folded her arms over her chest, leaning back against her seat, and leveled her gaze towards the other two. "I would hazard a guess that there would be more than just the three of us that you recruited."

She crossed one leg over the other. "Kisara McDowell. You may or may not have heard of me, some of which may or may not be true." She held her tongue past that introduction. This was the point where she figured that either of them would either call her out for being an ex-con, know her by her work, or neither. The best would be the middle option, the last would be just as good, but the first would probably start some fires.

EdwardDewey98 joshuadim Lady Moldoma