Hey Kids! COMICS!
"Mr. Menke?"
The rabbit turned himself around in the elevator, leaning himself against the wall at least twice. His movements under his three piece business suit were stiff. The outfit was not quite expensive but would have been notably impressive were they not easily three sizes too big. The cut of the suit and the muted tones, along with wearing both the top and bottom spoke of a conservative Fur. His red, rhummy eyes focused on the young lady calling his name. Against type, the rabbit squinted as if looking into the sun.
Certainly, the vision calling his name would have brighten the day of most males.
She was a well-shaped feline in a bright floral print dress in red, orange, and yellow. She tried to run in silly high heeled shoes while hold a few folders and two coffee from Stag/Buck. "Hold the elevator, Mr. Menke!"
The doors of the elevator started to close and the car seemed to hop a bit as. The elderly rabbit grabbed at the closing door, almost as if he needed to grab something to keep from falling over, more than actually being gallant. "How is it that an elderly herbivore such as myself still manages to beat a slick young carnivore like yourself back to his proverbial den?"
With a sweep of his gentlemanly hand, he welcomes his assistant into the executive elevator. As she passes him, she says, "First of all, no one uses the terms carnivore and herbivore anymore. Secondly, you have a car service. And thirdly, my work day apparently begins by standing in line at Stag/Buck for your special vegan sweet ginger cream carrot latte. So I beat you."
The doors close on the eldery rabbit's face as he rolls his red, rhummy eyes. He's obviously amused, as are the few onlookers on the ground floor of Rockafella Centre. The elevator begins to move with overly dramatic noises.
The young cat looked up at the elderly Lapine. "Fourth of all, a DEN is where you live. You don't live here."
The rabbit smiles, but even his teeth looked old. "Lastly."
The cat shot him a quizzical look.
"Don't say Fourth of All. Don't says Fourthly." The rabbit lectured, his voice young and firm. "Just say, 'Lastly.'"
"Lastly?" The cat scoffed, "Oh, you think I'm done now, do you?"
"I do," The rabbit said, "This is our floor."
The 25th floor was the executive offices of Direct Current, a Division of Warmer Communications and several other companies that kept several lawyers working around the clock exclusively on who owned what at any given time. The canine receptionist seemed startled ever so slightly to see the rabbit step gingerly out of the elevator. She stood up to say something and then recognition came over her face as she met the red rimmed eyes of the elderly male. She rushed to his side and then tenderly intertwined their arms, offering her support.
The cat with the Stag/Bucks cups might as well have been invisible.
"Mr. Menke, I thought you were at a convention this week."
"I was," Menke said, his voice scratchy with years and pipe tobacco. Yet, it was also as smooth as worn leather. A voice of wisdom and experience. "But I needed to be here. I have meetings to drop into unannounced."
The receptionist smiled and patted his arm as they came to his door. "I'll see that you accidentally BCC'd on the more interesting invites."
He smiled and patted her back as she opened the door for him. He tottered inside. The young feline had to reach out with a foot to keep the door from closing on her before she could follow the rabbit in. The receptionist didn't spare her a look as she returned to her post.
Menke was chuckling as the door closed behind her.
"Hoppy," she accused with a little humor herself, "you enjoy this charade a little too much."
"It's not a charade, Alley. I am over 90, afterall. And this is my job."
The cat snickered and handed him his cup. "You're an Incarnation of Power; you don't need a job."
"This Incarnation prefers structure and... you're teasing me, aren't you?"
The cat nodded and picked up a marker from the shelf under the white board. She crossed off a set of co-ordinates for the park on Lark Island and the word "drowning" next to it. They both studied the list of remaining co-ordinates and fatal disasters. "We're still short an Only Child," she said flatly. "Not that I'm blaming you."
"I couldn't let him drown. And it turns out, not the boy we're waiting for."
"And if he had been? The Karmic engines are already so far out of whack... you have to let these things play out."
"And when a boy dies because I did nothing?"
"Children are dying all over the world; you can't save them all." She turned and faced him. "You probably shouldn't be with me for the next one."
His fur seemed to stand on end, puffing him up. For a moment, he didn't seem so old and weak. Then he took a breathe and the threat seemed to go out of him. "You're probably right. I save children; I don't gamble with their lives."
The cat nodded and looked back at the board. "I can ask the Poodle to take a leave of absence to give me a hand scoping out the sites. You can check out our candidates with the Eagle."
"I have a name, yes?" A blue green Eagle stood in front of the office door, the air wavering around him as his depth and mass caught up to him a moment later. The crack under the door sliding back to slit a quarter might slip through.
"That door was unlocked, Sam." the rabbit chided by way of greeting.
The cat was much more demonstrative, nearly leaping into his arms and kissing his beak. "Any luck on your end?"
"I found the pair in your vision. But the Rept was much too old; he's not a candidate for an Origin. He's got several throwback aspects, and I'm pretty sure he has a part to play in all this. But not in a major role. I spent the night reading both their files. The younger partner, on the other hand, looked promising. Lost most of his family when Starro attacked. He's got a remaining brother who's apparently a recovering zombie. He totally bought me as Fastback, so maybe not so good a detective. Between the two of them, there might be enough for a hero."
The rabbit looked thoughtful. "Would a Firestork Origin be possible?" He asked, looking at the feline witch, with a surprising serious look.
It took Allie a moment to recall Firestork. She blanched under her fur, the inside of her ears going very white. In the comic books of this world, Firestork was a student and a teacher merged into one being as the result of a cold fusion experiment that had gone wrong. They had the power to reshape matter on an atomic level. They'd met a version of that creature on a version of Earth that had Elemental Incarnations as its protector. He... it... had started out as two people... one young, one old... fused in a terrible nuclear accident. It, too, had the power of atomic manipulation but it was nowhere near as whimsical as the comic book artists depicted. Thousands of people had died to bring this power to life and more seemed to die every time it used that power.
That Earth's protectors were more about protecting the Earth and realms than it was about protecting the populace of that world.
She gathered her thoughts. "No," she said. "The Speed Force and the Karmic engines aren't aligned for anything like that. The next Incarnation will be a reptilian speedster... the animistic fields won't calm down for anything else. It's up to us make sure he's a Hero..."
She looked at the presentation board next to the white board. It started with Pale Umber. They'd spent years gearing up for his incarnation, although they hadn't known his identity until hours before the event. In his case, the signs and portents had been so clear. They'd built the iconic Rept hero for the comic book world, reminded the world that the best and brightest during the Weird Wars included a Turtle that ran as fast as lightening, and they'd put on costumes themselves, showing the world all of Zoomanity could stand and fight together.
It never occurred to them that they might be a shadow organization following the same portents and signs, waiting to disrupt the Fates. Mortals or gods, they still had no idea who put that unlucky Officer Handy in place and at the worst possible moment. The boy was at the very cusp of his power; already he'd tapped into the Iconic synergies, instantly, he'd become a living fulcrum point against the Jungian flavored conscience of everyone's shared humanity. The thing that would make him a Hero, for better or worse, had blossomed into his heart, providing a door for all the gathered power of an Origin to pour into.
Except, a bullet had plowed through his heart first.
"We have to restore balance for all of these intertwined, mystical energies... before they find a new balance all their own." She waved a delicate, fur covered hand at the boards.
"Would that be so bad?" The Rabbit asked.
"A new balance changes everything. Right now, someone almost has to die to have an Origin. We know for a fact, on other worlds, those Origins can involve whole villages or cities... or even species. I know you are reluctant to pay that Blood Price. That risk of sacrifice... but, really, Robert, we are getting off so incredibly cheap."