Ready Player One

Valentine had the world literally at his fingertips when it came to making his debut, his parentage guaranteed this magnanimous stage. He'd spent hours grueling, calculating with Endurant and Dreamfire in front of that taunting computer screen checking demographics, crime rates, known villains and police files to discover the perfect location. When he had chosen the City of Lights itself, the faces of his parents had flickered with a flash of concern in a fleeting moment before it transmuted organically into resolve. They knew why he had chosen the location... Many heroes were defined by their opening moments in the public eye, it crafted made-men and women into the iconic symbols of honor, justice and good that they would inevitably become. On the other hand, a failed debut ruined careers, catastrophic failures were known to push good capes into the recesses of obscurity as the sword of Damocles forged by their colossal loss acted as a permanent deterrent for the meek, the hesitant and the unlucky. However, Valentine felt good about this, the time was right, his suit was made by the same expert artisans as his parents' and whats more, the look was good! He could recall hours of conversations with image consultants public relations officers as well as other heroes that had been related to his parent's teams. He was the scion of a legacy, albeit a small one. And it was time to have all of that effort pay off!

Valentine had heard that temperatures dropped below freezing in the heart of the desert, but he was surprised to learn that Sin City saw natural forming ice only a handful of times a year. The heated wind of what would have otherwise been a sweltering night beat at the flowing mesh of his tasset beneath his coat, the exaggerated  hood drawn over his helmet as he skulked the alleys and backstreets of the city in its truly alive state, as the boy kept an ever-keen eye on a portable police scanner which blared almost constantly in his wireless headphones. 10-51's being called out by the second, drunken disorderlies... each of them could be more than easily handled by the mundane professional officers of the city. There were a handful of 10-43's, calls for medical staff which had perked Valentine's attention, but nothing big enough for him to truly dedicate his time and effort for it, minor stabbings and protocols from overdrinking dulled the numerical system and plagued it with minor infractions. While efficient, the system failed to captivate the severity of any given situation... Then came the magic words.


That caught Valentine's attention, an urgent call on a suspicious person, likely a person known to the police officer, known enough that he was requesting assistance with a following code 8... The hairs on Valentines arms bristled with anxious anticipation as the following rush of adrenaline plumed through his body. He could feel the tension, every muscle flexing outwards as if they were goading him into action. A wry smile crept across the boy's dusty tanned face as without a moment longer he whirled to action. Whistling a hawk-cry with lips pursed around his gloved fingers a nearby German Shepherd leapt to life from a nearby adjacent ally, having been occupying a homeless child as the flurry of fur coated canine came sprinting across the road, weaving expertly between stalled traffic to come to the darting teen's side. With a flick of his wrist to his jaw a helmet coiled around his neck like a rising viper, plates interlocking as they folded out whirring to life as lights penetrated the hood of his cloak which now seemed customized to fit this new addition. The boy was transformed, the curtain had been raised, and the matinee began.

Lets go! We have a job to do!

Caduceus spoke to the animal as the two of them ran, long strides pushing them further, faster and more furiously through the busy neon-lit vistas of Los Vegas, The hero would push himself to move faster, curving into an alley and quick changing from the shreds of his civilian disguise, hurling them into a nearby dumpster with wanton disregard, he was shedding his cocoon, transforming, undergoing the metamorphosis he had been waiting for his entire life and Los Vegas was his cradle. the 10-66 would be his crucible. Word from the officers talking about it had spoken of a local crime family, the man was a known fence who seemed to be making a move. Seems like a sting operation was about to be sprung, a sale was occurring, goods and cash trading hands at a clandestine meeting place somewhere in the Cultural Corridor. Ironic, that dirty deeds done in the twilight would be dealt so close to the mob museum. Happenstance? Or a flagrant criminal element flaunting its power in the face of its glorious history?

It took Caduceus 20 minutes to arrive in the shadow of the ironically closed Neon Museum. The lights around them dim as he and Isha would stalk the outskirts of the open arena. The area had some civilians moving through the open industrial park. Couples held hands as they walked carefree through the twilight void that divided the lights of the surrounding city. The shadows providing the necessary cover to engage in a private moment, Caduceus could see the appeal, but the hazard of them being here was becoming worrisome. He flexed his power, and almost immediately in response, Isha's form immediately began to swell as she grew about a  half foot in height making her look like a much wilder beast than she once was. Calcified mass surrounded her features in an almost chitinous armour plating while his hand moved to the grip of his Baton. There were a host of people gathered in the center of the area, two definitive groups of well dressed men and women, two of them holding cases, one cased in metallic chrome, much smaller held by an almost metrosexual looking man in his mid forties. almost certainly the fence in question while the enterage flagrantly brandished small arms around him in every direction. The police had yet to arrive, but the stage was set, the pieces moving into place across the board as the games stakes were raised and bets were taken. This was the life that Caduceus had chosen, taking to the shadows in hopes that he could shine some light into the shady dealings of gangsters and those who prey upon the helpless.