Hadassah

Hey, feel free to leave some feedback on how you feel about the story so far. This chapter and the following one are longer, tell me if you think that flows a little better. Otherwise, gimme a heads up on what you think in general! 

Much appreciated and have a great day! 

When Erin did see who it was bothering her today, she inwardly groaned and relaxed. This time, it was Max. If Tyson’s charisma and charm, natural or not, was rated on an arbitrary scale, then Max would be at the opposite end of the spectrum.

Tall and slightly unkempt, Max was one of those coworkers who annoyed everyone by just stepping into the room; like a superpower, it put people on edge.

He didn’t work on exactly the same project as Erin, but they worked in the same area.

“Yes, Max. What is it.” She wondered how he got here so quickly. Had he been lurking around the corner, waiting to pounce on the carrion left by Tyson?

He gave a smirk. “So I saw you and Tyson talking. What did he want?”

Erin shrugged, looking back at her screen to appear busy. With his arrival and her re-emerging annoyance, she already forgot half of what Tyson and she had said, exactly as it was said.“He just wanted some ideas for Janette’s birthday, Max. Side-Plot stuff. No big deal.”

He scoffed. “Everything he does is a big deal. It’s always worth keeping track of, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m sure I do.” Her jaw hurt from holding it stiff.

He gave a squeak of laughter. “Ha! Hey, you oughta be careful, or you will end up dead like your friend, ‘Janey’.”

She responded, softly and angry, “Janette isn’t... dead, Max.” This was technically true, though Max wasn’t wrong either. It burned to hear Max be so cavalier about it.

He shrugged and slumped away with one last parting shot, “Might as well be.”

Erin scowled at her computer monitor, trying to think about what she said to Tyson exactly. With her poor mood, she couldn’t think of anything else. She saved what little record she had time to get down, but resolved not to let one bad experience ruin her day.

Two bad experiences. She’d almost forgotten about Beast Hunter earlier that day. Once would have been just bad luck. Having it happen twice so quickly, Erin was afraid it might be Plot.

Erin suddenly felt trapped in her cubicle. She got up from her desk to go meet Greg. He just needed to scan a pile of binders that were dedicated to an old customer who was considering an upgrade. Divinilogic couldn’t find any of the old notes, so the paper manuals would need to be the start. And Erin had all afternoon to look after them as she saw Greg off, after several more reassurances he could take care of himself first. 

When she finished doing all the scanning and making sure the files were organized enough to send on, Erin only checked her email long enough to make sure she didn’t have any of her own last minute work. 

Freed from self-made obligation, Erin fled the office with due haste as the weekend waited.

Her motorcycle, Oda, was her pride and joy. An older Japanese model, he was no slouch either on the streets or the highway. Her motorcycle always reminded her of her dad, who taught her how to ride when she was barely thirteen.

She kicked the bike alive, and it thrummed as she made her way home. She lived nearly ten miles away from downtown, in a suburban apartment complex, mostly because it was much safer than the city proper. Her apartment was a small one bedroom affair on the third floor, with a full kitchen and relatively sizable living room. She didn’t have a TV, just a large computer desk with a triplet of monitors and a pair of relatively new desktop computers underneath; the whirr of fans produced a comforting white noise.

She placed her backpack and helmet in one wooden chair of her kitchen table, made sure there were no urgent messages or emails waiting for her and draped her jacket over another on her way into the kitchen, to change into pajamas. By seven o’clock, she was in bed. Like many of the people in her generation, she went to bed well before the sun fell. Her alarm went off just shy of two A.M.

As a hobby, she maintained the back end of several internet forums and chatrooms. She did so for free, though the work was easy once all the code and software was in place. Her hobby was not mystical or interesting like the movies would like to portray. Managing servers was boring, a few clicks here and there. She didn’t moderate any of the forums she managed, she just made sure the websites worked and stayed functional under high loads. 

Her inbox had ballooned with new emails, but nothing particularly alarming. The kind of forums she helped manage were always busier after midnight, and she would have dozens of emails if they were down, all from people desperate to keep up with the latest news.

In the last two decades, the news had become far more interesting after midnight than it was before. While there were still a lot of people who didn’t like to hear about the sort of things that happened at night in cities, Erin’s generation was different. Some people try to hide from their fears. Those in the ‘Hero generation’, as the major media organizations often called it, usually chose to face their nightmares directly.

Yesterday morning - before she had gotten up to work - was very busy. No one had been able to identify the new supervillain that had broken into the water treatment plant on Thursday night. The Cavalry, one of the Protagonist superhero teams of the city, had stopped them. Knowing that Tyson was one of the members of the Cavalry, she dug into that story more to soak in the news.

She clicked on the thread discussing the new villain and there was a picture posted from a black and white security camera. Facing away from the camera was a shifty outline of a large cowled figure, not quite proportioned right for something completely human. Over the shoulder of the figure were several people in costumes.

Silverknight was at the fore. He was a tall man, broad shouldered and wearing angular shining armor. His helmet covered everything but his eyes, which were tiny slits for eyes that glowed purple when photographed in color. His stature and confidence were visible even in the grainy photo.

It was no coincidence that Silverknight’s profile, even through heavy plate mail armor, looked exactly like Tyson Templeton’s.

People were still trawling through the camera footage at the treatment plant, trying very hard to get a better image of the poor Puppet that had been made into Meridian City’s latest villain.

Not all superheroes were Protagonists, but all Protagonists were heroes. There were no Protagonist villains in the world. Even the anti-heroes were pretty tame, roughing up criminals no worse than police enforcement might and putting minimal effort into their alter egos. Protagonists were only evil when judging them by what the Plot did to serve them, which was more than enough by most standards. She didn’t think the world could remain sane if the Plot allowed and enabled Protagonist villains to exist.

She also responded to the board admins worried about the recent influx of users and generally did her job of making sure everything ran smoothly on all four of the websites and forums she happened to manage the servers for.

By the time she got to searching through the "rumor and first-hand accounts” topics, she was looking for something more particular. She was seeking a post she knew would exist by now, written by the user ‘Circus_Maximus’. 

Max’s post was titled "Is Silverknight drafting his next victim?” but all his work started with the same paragraph:

"Greetings, fellow backdrop. I am here again to report on the ongoing coverage of Tyson Templeton, also known as Silverknight, also known as the Local Moderator in some circles. He is the leader of the most powerful group of Protagonists in Meridian City, the Cavalry. I bring you up-to-date, live coverage of the everyday goings-on of the most famous hero in our little town on the sea.

For those of you who aren't local, Tyson/Silverknight is employed by Divinilogic Inc. (like myself) as a marketing specialist (not like myself). This means it is very easy for him to step out on "out-of-town business meetings” whenever he doesn't want to stick around in our peasant presence. As you know, he’s taken a modest single person and made them into a Pawn. Janette Grayford, a coworker of mine and project manager, has been a thrall to his attention for most of the year now; his beau until she dies in a tragic moment for character development. Of course, we already know that thralls and Plot Pawns are nothing more than zombies. At least he’s only taken one slave, not half a dozen like other Protagonists can claim. So far.

I saw him taking to Janette's good friend, Erin Razor. Or Erin was, before Janette became ‘Janey’ for Tyson’s. Erin spoke to Tyson briefly, holding a close conversation this afternoon. I’ve mentioned her before, as she was the one who first confirmed that Janette was dead. Erin was distraught at the time, and wouldn't let me take a formal interview, in spite of the obvious importance that the information be collected. You can find that story linked here. (In order to beat them, we have to understand them, I say.) She seems to be a denialist, overall. She never joins the company betting pool and has become more reclusive since her friend was taken.

Erin was either feeling friendly to the Protagonist, or otherwise unable to control herself. He was asking about Janette, and Erin talked back and forth for a few minutes about jewelry. I do not know what she was thinking. No one remains friends with those puppets without becoming a puppet themselves. Maybe she wasn’t thinking. She claimed she hadn’t been a puppet, but I have doubts.

I’d be worried that her life will degenerating quickly now that Tyson has taken notice of her. I sometimes think it's better to be honest and morbid: It could be a short time before her backstory will become that of a petty villain to spice up an otherwise slow day for our hero Silverknight. Erin Razor; she even has the name of a villian. I am betting on the moniker ‘Erazer’ when she comes out. Any takers?

Other than a few other cursory stops and some bland, short conversation, he spent most of the rest of his day in his office, I.E. off in the Outside or something, out-of-body while his body stared at the wall. I will keep you interested onlookers up-to-date on his daytime activities, so we can all be aware of anything pressing. If he gets jumpy, so should we.

The Protagonists are here, the Plot is near, and they are watching you, so stay in character… or you lose it.”

She closed the tab in frustration, not willing to deal with reading the comments of his followers tonight. ‘Circus_Maximus’ was a reporter, or so he liked to claim. Mostly, she thought he was kind of a jerk and she was vindicated that, at least in the office, people groused about him more often than not.

She drifted through threads and the internet, still sour from the post that morning. She had grown accustomed to the way the world was, much like every other still-sane person left on the planet.Even so, she couldn’t let go of the day’s events. Running into two Protagonists in one day could have just been coincidence. Erin was afraid it was Plot.

The weekend was relatively harmless overall. Erin was a creature of habit. Saturday, when her mom was available for lunch, Erin would catch up with her at some new restaurant her mom heard about, or an old favorite. She spent the afternoon tinkering with her bike in her mom’s driveway. Sunday was grocery shopping and cooking dinners for the week, and poking around on the forums, trying to see what all was happening globally, rather than focusing on just Meridian City or the rest of the East Coast. She was a little obsessed, she knew. By Sunday afternoon, she was almost over her ominous feeling about Friday’s events.

Erin’s weekend had almost been perfect - when she got a text from Janette.