To GreedEman, reason Virgil didn't turn into a Honey Badger/Ratel is because I already have an OC with that powerset~
Hashtag Shameless Plug.
But in all seriousness, Virgil is more of an "ambush predator" than a "tank". He can use [Armor Mode] to wade through gunfire, but he won't be storming the Beaches of Normandy in one straight go; like in Halo, he'd use his Overshield to poke out of cover, but he can be overwhelmed.
Of course, that in of itself was the entire point of the Nanosuit; being able to "customize" your loadout to match your playstyle. Either an invincible "Rambo" wading through oceans of bullets & bodies, or stealthy like the thing from Predator. And I've actually played Predator: Hunting Grounds, but have had very limited success as a Yautja because of the steep learning curve.
To superpierce, like I said to GreedEman, Virgil is more of an "ambush predator", and a "cold, unfeeling reptile" just meshed better with his "Two-Percenter" status than a mammal.
Not to mention, I'm a huge fan of ShinyaMurata's work, and when I saw Brute Alligator for the first time, I just knew I wanted Virgil to have an ability like that. Especially after they started throwing Dino DNA into the mix.
To Raidentensho, Namor would still be living in the waters of Antarctica. For Emerald, I have something planned about that. On note of Steve Irwin references, "Crikey!" was what stuck most in my mind; didn't remember the "Danger, Danger, Danger!" spiel. As for Virgil, he's still cursed by Hecate, not who I assume is the Greek Orion.
Don't know shit about Saint Seiya/Knights of the Zodiac apart from the barest of bare bones (and also the Netflix movie), so unfortunately, no.
To Cousin687, "fever dream" was what I was going for, yes. And in a world like the DC Universe with a bit of Marvel and countless others thrown on the side, a little weird loot and pick-ups isn't all that strange~
It's basically like if Batman or the Flash took the weapons from their Rogues Galleries and used them themselves. Mega Man from Mega Man with his Copy Ability basically did much the same, but in a limited capacity because his body is custom-tooled to be adaptable, instead of ultra-specialized.
To Blaze1992, Virgil in his Deinosuchus Form is "half again" as big as the Lake Placid monster.
To The Viking Stranger, I actually didn't think of the crocodile from Peter Pan until after-the-fact. Honestly, I sooner thought of "Alligator Loki" and how he bit "President Loki's" hand off. Also, does what "Alligator Loki" did count as "cannibalism", or "predation"?
Like Krieger from Archer, "I'm, seriously asking."
To GrimmPandaMan, in regards to Raven Branwen… Hmmmmmm… Well, I'm a fan of her aesthetic as well as her choice in weapon, and I feel like if things had been any different, she'd have been "the fun parent". She'd have also been "the bad influence" like Qrow, but I think she and Tai could've rounded one another out quite nicely.
I also have it in my Headcanon that while Raven's points against Ozpin were valid, the man himself may've "poisoned" the rest of Team STRQ's opinions against her so even if she did tell them Ozpin's dirty laundry later on, that they wouldn't believe her. And given how badly all his secrets backfired in Volume 6...
As for a potential love interest for Virgil, because that's where the "topic of discussion" eventually might go; not even. Virgil's no home-wrecker. He might be "cracked", but he isn't the sort to CUCK somebody. He might let himself be a "rebound" if a girl has an especially bad love life, but he won't endeavor to outright steal a girl from a guy, because he wouldn't want the same to happen to him.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Bludhaven
March 16, 7:18 EST
Once Cinder Fall had decided that long-term collaboration with Foxhound and CryNet's joint operation would be beneficial to her personal endgame, the beautiful and very successful woman of the world purchased a well-furnished apartment in the nicer part of Bludhaven for her "learned youngsters"; a three-bedroom affair overlooking Melville Park. And while such had not been explicitly stated, there was definitely an intended occupant for that third room; the opportunity to bring him at least partly into the fold, had not yet made itself manifest.
At the moment, Mercury Black with his feet reclined on the couch was reading a magazine, while Emerald Sustrai dutifully worked on her laptop in the dining room.
"Hey Em, how long do you think Virgil will last?" Mercury hummed from behind his magazine.
"I think he'll go all the way," the greenette returned, not even deigning to look up from her given task.
"All the way to where? The Ninth Circle of Hell?"
"Merc, he just went off to train in Alaska," Emerald deadpanned with a glance his way.
"Yeah. In the ass end of winter," Mercury scoffed, shivering at the thought.
"And he's got top-of-the-line thermals," Emerald countered. "Besides, once he's got some more training down, we'll get to have some real fun~"
"Like you being the first woman he's seen in fuck-all knows-how-long~?"
"Women live in Alaska too, dipshit. It isn't just crab fisherman in heavy orange coats you know," Emerald huffed.
"Well, at least you got to swap spit with him before he left."
*Past*
Bludhaven
March 13, 8:51 EST
"Nice place. Cozy," Virgil hummed as Emerald let him in.
"Yeah, well, it's home," the greenette replied. "So, you had a job for us?"
"More a job for you," Virgil said as he unslung his backpack onto the coffee table with a noticeable *thump* after checking that the blinds were drawn in. "I got something I need fenced while I'm out of town. No rush or anything, I'd rather you got the best price."
"Well that sounds interesting~" Mercury grinned, his carbon fiber prosthetic feet kicked up on the recliner as he read the newspaper funnies.
"It isn't 'hot', is it?" Emerald asked. "Not that it's actually a problem, but it warrants asking," she said waving off her earlier concerned tone.
"Not since the 17th century, I'd think," Virgil hummed as he opened his backpack and the pillowcases within, Emerald's eyes goggling as a modest-to-large (if not large-to-outright-mind-boggling) fortune of Spanish doubloons spilled into view. "You and Merc can have 20 percent each, but I'd like some form of paperwork from the transaction."
Mercury for his part let out an appreciative whistle, while Emerald…
Without even thinking about it the greenette grabbed Virgil by the collar and hungrily mashed her lips against his, the brunette's arms flailing as she proceeded to dip him, actually managing to slip in a bit of tongue before she realized what she was doing and dropped him.
*Thud*
"Ow."
"I'm sorry!"
"No you're not~"
"Shut up, Merc!"
*Present*
"Shut up, Merc! It was a spur-of-the-moment thing!" the greenette blushed as she remembered the taste of his breakfast on her tongue.
"Well, unless you want it to be just the one moment, I'd advise working over those flowers of his, see if you can't get a slice of the pie for yourself," Mercury hummed as he flipped his paper over. "Heh. Who knew that loot was such a turn-on~?"
"It wasn't a turn-on. I just appreciated the faith he put in me."
"Yeah. 'Faith'. Suuuure~"
"Uuuugh…!"
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Anchorage, Alaska
March 16, 14:21 ADT
"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" Virgil subvocalized as he looked out the window on his Alaska flight, the snowy expanse of Anchorage expanding in all directions underneath him.
"Beeeecause you wanted a power-up after getting blindsided by a rune-covered squid and a demonic shark?" Otacon answered in his ear.
"Oh… Right," he deadpanned.
And case in point, he had asked for the training trip. VR was one thing, working out in a top-of-the-line gym was another, but sometimes you just needed to get your hands dirty; and since it was speculated that Batman had gone on a "world tour" and the results spoke for themselves…
That said, Alaska wasn't his choice, but was a suggestion made by Snake and Code Talker both, the latter of which was riding beside him in their first-class accommodations, the cover being that "Vincent" was going with his grandfather to reconnect with "kin" up in Alaska. Thinking back on it, the trip to Alaska wasn't completely random, as Raiden had studied scouting techniques under a Native American shaman, and also how to hunt; something Virgil would definitely benefit from in the most extreme of conditions.
Of course, it wasn't going to be purely for his own benefit. While he was there, Re-l had tasked him with field testing some new textiles which Otacon called "Lighter Suits"; resembling a special black rubber-like material, it was made of multiple layers of cold-resistant textiles which would rub against one another to generate heat. The intent was to sell them to those working in the Arctic Circle, Antarctica, or just anywhere else with year-round below-freezing temperatures in general; the Arctic Combat Brigade would certainly appreciate the tech. Once enough user data was gathered, the designs would be further refined, and then it would be adapted for military use and eventual civilian distribution. Multiple "blends" had been prepared, so it was just a matter of collecting enough user data to move progress along.
You could only get so much data in sterile testing environments.
*Bong~*
"Ladies and gentleman, United Airlines welcomes you to Anchorage, Alaska. The local time is 2:25 pm. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisles clear until we are parked at the gate. The Captain will then turn off the 'Fasten Seat Belt' sign, indicating it is safe to stand. Please use caution when opening the overhead compartments and removing items, since articles may have shifted during flight."
"I can feel the cold creeping in," Code Talker rasped as he tightened his blankets around himself.
"Don't worry, grandpa. We'll get some nice, warm burgers in you before we head out."
And it wasn't too hard to treat this old man like his grandfather. Not only did he look the part, but he was also quite personable for someone that'd been soldiering on for close to one and a quarter centuries. That he was actually there with the original Miller and Venom Snake, and had lived through the fallout of so many "incidents" made him a veritable wealth of first-hand information, not all that unlike the relationship between an old man and his inquisitive grandson.
Virgil wasn't sure how accurate it was to consider Code Talker as "kin" to the Blackfoot Tribe, otherwise known as the Siksika, Piikani, and Kainai Tribes, but they'd been invited by friends of Snake's and Raiden's both, so the brunette assumed things wouldn't get "too political".
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Anchorage, Alaska
March 16, 15:43 ADT
After loading up on some good eating and getting their luggage, the grandson/grandfather duo departed the terminal where they met a small crowd of "airport greeters". The Blackfoot man holding up a sign that read Aditsan was the only one of his kind in attendance, and though he had modern winter gear, from the neck up he certainly looked the part of a Native American elder.
"Gaagii, how was your flight?" the Blackfoot man spoke up as he greeted them.
"It was nice. The food was decent," the Old Diné replied. "This is my grandchild, Virgil."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
" . . . You speak Piegan?" the Blackfoot man blinked incredulously before finding his words.
"It was a long flight."
-which was the go-to explanation to wave away how he'd gotten another "data dump", the implication being that he binged a Language CD. At present he could speak English, Spanish, Russian, French, and now Piegan, though anyone from the latter cultures could tell it weren't his native language. Not until he got a lot more practice with those foreign tongues and really delved into that part of spycraft.
"Well, that'll certainly make things easier," the Blackfoot man hummed as he scratched at his long black hair. "You may call me 'Thundercloud Walker', which I guess makes it fitting that I had a student who called himself 'Raiden'."
"Should we really be conversing so openly about work?"
"Hardly anyone in the country speaks legit Piegan. I think we'll be fine," Walker replied. "Still, daylight is burning, so I guess we should move on."
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
While the official Blackfeet Indian Reservation was located east of Glacier National Park and bordered the Canadian province of Alberta, the Blackfoot Confederacy had lesser holdings in the less-desirable parts of Alaska bordering on Canada as well. What Virgil truly found surprising however, was that the man who Snake entrusted his – literally – fifty huskies to, a Foxhound retiree, had married Thundercloud Walker's niece, Sage Whisper, making the world that he now lived in feel just a little bit smaller.
With Morris back in Bludhaven watching after Athena and Gaige, barring any "teleporting shenanigans", for a bit there he was worried the only animals he'd see were the ones he was trying to kill, or trying to kill him. So getting to work with big fluffy "doggos" as Otacon called them would be a refreshing distraction from the sub-arctic hell that Alaska was proving to be.
Not that the "Lighter Suits" Re-l was having him test weren't doing their job, they definitely were, but it wasn't like he could ask Thundercloud Walker to relocate for his benefit. Even on a purely temporary basis. Raiden trained out here, so could he. And if he ever wanted to see "the other side" after New York Zero, he'd put his maximum effort into it. He planned to live after getting his payback.
That or letting someone else do the job.
Potato, potatoe.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
March 21, 11:58 ADT
Something interesting Virgil discovered a week in was that compound bows actually held up quite well in below freezing weather. Then again, when would he have had the chance to learn something like that living in New York? Sure, it got cold as balls on the east coast, but it never got Alaska levels of cold. Not to mention, going around NYC with a bow and arrow at the ready would get you pulled over by the cops.
That or render you completely invisible, hah.
The Blackfoot settlement in of itself had been quite welcoming, though having a Navajo elder may've carried most of that weight. And while everyone knew that the de facto chief, Thundercloud Walker, had hand-trained some kind of spec-ops guy a while back, no-one asked any questions then, and no-one asked any questions now; at least not as long as Virgil pulled his own weight with the chores since this arrangement was more like a working vacation.
During March, the majority of Alaska was still in the grip of winter, and many animals were either in hibernation, or had migrated to warmer climates. The notable exceptions were some species of bird such as the common raven and the black-billed magpie, as well as larger mammals like moose and caribou, although tracking the latter was a challenge due to snow cover.
Exactly the sort of training Raiden himself had undergone, and what Virgil was participating in now. The number one rule: never shoot a female, and if possible, make it a clean kill. This was something Virgil could get behind because, as far as animals were concerned, he didn't believe in needless suffering.
Doubly-so after falling headfirst down the rabbit hole that was The Red.
The Lighter Suits were proving to be a real boon as well. Some blends were warmer than others, some more-comfortable, some breathed more-easily, some offered greater flexibility. Of course, the good also came with its share of bad; some of the Lighter Suits chaffed badly, some of them were itchy, and some of them chaffed really, really badly. But ultimately, that was exactly the sort of thing that live field testing was for. Progress reports would be made, and then couriers would send in new variations of the same textiles for testing.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
March 25, 9:36 ADT
Of course, it wasn't all about working with a bow, tracking wild game, and refining his survival skills. Another facet of his training had been learning to work with Snake's collection of sled dogs.
Bryan Hayter was a nice-enough man, and just by looking at the guy, you'd never think he were a member of an elite special forces unit; then again, that may have been the point. He never deeply elucidated on when he retired from Foxhound, or why, and Virgil never asked. Instead, he focused on forming a strong, familial bond with the huskies that Snake had trained in his retirement before "that world" pulled him back in.
Venom Snake at one point had taken in an orphaned wolf pup that proved itself to be a bit of a troublemaker on Mother Base. Ocelot, for his part, believed the pup may prove useful in the future, so decided to give the "diamond in the rough" a bit of polishing. During the course of the Phantom Pain Incident and the years after, DD proved to be an invaluable asset in the field, be it sniffing out bombs or incapacitating enemy combatants lethally or even non-lethally. And it was entirely possible that someday, Virgil himself might have a combat-ready attack dog that he'd need to learn how to handle on-mission.
Morris might've been a supernatural entity, but he was strictly for the supernatural side of things; not the "spy drama" world of Metal Gears. The more he kept his professional and "private" lives separate, the better; because God forbid whatever enemies he made on both sides of the track realized the same person was fucking with both of them.
Whenever there was nothing to do with the dogs, Bryan would help out with his CQC. While not the exactingly same style as Snake's, it was no less formidable, and with all the times he'd been thrown to the ground, if it weren't for the Lighter Suits he was wearing, he'd have gotten frostbite literally up the ass.
Throughout all of it, Virgil was getting a little bit stronger with each day. And not just in body or in his mind, but in his spiritual side as well. The Old Diné would sometimes pull him aside to meditate, sometimes with a peace pipe, sometimes without, and occasionally they'd partake in hamburgers made with local ingredients while giving thanks to the Mother Earth.
Virgil hadn't been converted or anything like that, and nor did Gaagii attempt to; but the two had agreed that in the same way that every civilization's ruler attempted to unite their peoples under a single will with the power of "language", so too did they attempt to do as such with the power of "religion". Religions that all seemed to come to the conclusion that theirs was "the only one" and that all others were false.
Given the fact that magic and aliens and the supernatural in general were quite, quite real, the two had come to the conclusion that all pantheons simply "co-existed" through the lenses of their worshippers and that it was only man who decided "there can only be one". As such, Virgil stopped feeling weird about praying to both Jesus Christ and Mother Earth; for the sake of being polite, he decided not to do so in the same breath.
Because after all, no matter how much the Vatican tried to God-wash it, the Crusades and the various Inquisitions were ordained by man, not by Christ himself; no matter what the Papacy would have you believe.
Of course, the ruminations on the world itself and all its interconnected facets, had another unintended side-effect.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
March 31, 8:22 ADT
"Bryan. Something troubles you?" Code Talker inquired as he came up to the dog-keeper on a one-dog sled in place of his wheelchair.
"Not 'troubles'. Something is just… weird…" the dark-haired man replied as he rubbed at his stubble.
"The world is a strange place. You will have to be much more specific."
"I feel like… I feel like there's one more dog in there than there should be…" he said looking into the large kennel where all of Solid Snake's huskies were kept.
"Have you tried counting?"
"I am, but they all keep moving about, and I lose track," the man admitted, his eyes panning over the enclosure before a single husky broke off from the others and padded through the snow towards them.
It was an impressive specimen with an entirely jet-black coat the color of coal dust under a starless sky, but what set it apart were the eyes. While blue was the most common eye color for huskies, followed by brown, green, amber, or a combination of the aforementioned, this one had eyes of deepest crimson, glinting with an almost unnatural intelligence that some would consider "unnatural".
Before either man could speak up, the new huskie reared up on its hind legs and convulsed wildly before suddenly transmogrifying into the Lighter Suit-clad Virgil, the teen rolling his back as he shook the snow from his hands.
Bryan, despite being a former
member of Foxhound, still recoiled at the sight and almost had a heart attack; as did a few of the dogs.
Code Talker for his part, had not only seen his own fair share of weirdness both during and after his time on Mother Base, but animal shapeshifting was a deeply rooted concept in Native American folklore; as such, he was far less perturbed.
"So…" Virgil hummed as he rolled his neck. "Turns out I can transform into a husky now. Imagine that."
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 6, 9:06 ADT
In April, the weather in Alaska began to warm up, with some species beginning to emerge from hibernation. Bears, for example, typically began to emerge from their dens at this time, although may not have been fully active. Others such as foxes and hares in comparison would be more visible, though because of the thawing ground, tracking once again remained difficult.
Not that this deterred Virgil's efforts. Thundercloud Walker not only helped him refine his tracking skills as a human, but also in his recently awakened canid form as well; and the man took the revelation surprisingly well. Possibly because there wasn't much reason to doubt that Virgil actually was the Old Diné's grandchild, on top of the fact that animal shapeshifting was, once again, a deeply rooted concept in Native American folklore.
Virgil for his part didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it was Mother Earth throwing him a bone, maybe it was that The Red "spoke to him" through those fifty huskies. What he knew for certain was that it really sucked ass transforming into an American Alligator, let alone its Cretaceous Period ancestor, in the middle of a subarctic hellscape. Because surprise, surprise, apparently what he was wearing before using [Wild Shape] did not carry over to his animal forms.
Imagine that.
Not to say that he spent all his time in Alaska with the Blackfeet. Every once in a while, he'd use the House of Secrets to play host to his polyamorous girlfriends back in Bludhaven, stay abreast to events on the east coast if not remain abreast to… ahem, other topics… Of course, to maintain the pretense that he wasn't magically gallivanting cross-country for funsies, he still used the phone on the regular like a normal person; though in the case of the latter, he had to be mindful of the four time zones separating Alaska from the East Coast.
He also ruminated, both to himself and to his girls, whether or not to allow Emerald into the House of Secrets wholesale. True, he'd trusted her with knowledge of the place to feel her out, and Black-Eyed Brad's loot aside. But was that in of itself enough to determine her – relative – trustworthiness, or did she require further vetting?
Gaige seemed to know something he didn't – then again, there was a lot she knew that he didn't –, but Athena saw fit to stop the ginger from speaking up on that occasion, so he decided to leave what his polyamorous primary wanted to keep secret, as a secret.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 12, 9:24 ADT
The Blackfoot tribe was known as one of the original tribes, historically regarded for their strong cultural identity and warrior traditions. The Blackfoot First Nation, like many indigenous peoples of North America, historically utilized tomahawks as both tools and weapons, wielded for purposes such as hunting, combat, and ceremonial functions.
As a weapon, the tomahawk was effective for close quarters combat, and could also be thrown at enemies from a distance; a versatile implement that made it a favored choice among warriors in modernity and the ancient past.
Outside of warfare, the tomahawk was a practical tool used for chopping wood, skinning animals, and other daily tasks essential for survival and bushcraft.
In some instances, tomahawks were used in ceremonial rituals or as symbols of peace during negotiations between tribes or with European settlers.
The decorations that embellished this ancient weapon, from feathers to beads and even carvings, were a commonality among the Blackfoot people often used to convey personal achievements or tribal affiliations.
Among all other uses, the tomahawk had become a symbol of Native American identity and resistance against colonialism, frequently depicted in art and literature associated with Indigenous peoples.
These and other such thoughts went through Code Talker's head as he and Thundercloud Walker watched Sage Whisper run through the Blackfoot Tribe's tomahawk forms with their latest student.
*Siiiiiiiigh* "I remember when I used to be able to move like that," Code Talker sighed nostalgically as the raven feathers on Sage Whisper's tomahawk drew beautiful whistling lines through the air, its colorful beads catching the morning light.
In contrast, Virgil's own implement was largely utilitarian, a mass-produced military-grade model; but despite being an outsider, the young man hungrily devoured every lesson. His every swing, stab, and parry purposeful, his eyes honed to a hawk-like focus on some far-off goal. Were Otacon in attendance, he'd call Virgil a "Tribal Enthusiast", the First Nations equivalent of what a "Weeb" was to Japanese culture.
Only difference however was that Virgil actually could hurt someone with these techniques, having been bestowed upon him by a primary source, through traditions passed down the Blackfoot bloodlines for countless generations.
Given he was the Old Diné's "grandson", it could hardly be considered cultural appropriation.
Or at least that's how Virgil saw it since the techniques were being offered, not taken or stolen or any other derivative-of.
"I suppose I can understand where you're coming from in part," Thundercloud Walker hummed in agreement as he rolled an aching shoulder. "Soon, it'll be up to the next generation to teach those that seek out our wisdom. Honestly, I'm not sure how many more 'white boys' these old bones can handle."
"Even if he can transcend form into a noble hound?" Code Talker quipped.
"That is a point in Virgil's favor, I will admit," the chieftain conceded.
There were a few shamans within the various tribes that could do much the same; at least behind closed doors so their peoples wouldn't be taken advantage of further. But it came as a true shock that a "foreigner" could display such a feat, whether it was a jet black hound with a crimson gaze, or a reptilian killing machine with golden eyes.
"Still, that look in his eyes…" the chief hummed as he watched Virgil face off against an imaginary opponent. "It is the same look as our warriors. Or rather, the look I do not like in their eyes…"
"Yes… That boy has an incredibly heavy burden placed upon his shoulders," Code Talker hummed as he wrung his hands together.
The Old Diné was further saddened by the fact that he would only be able to add to that burden.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 18, 20:10 ADT
Following yet another day of rigorous training, Virgil found himself escorting Code Talker to the settlement's sauna. During his lengthy stay, he'd tried "cold plunging" a handful of times but was swift to decide that he simply wasn't interested. It didn't matter how many health benefits there were, it just wasn't his cup of tea. Maybe other people enjoyed that sort of thing, but he personally didn't enjoy abrupt temperature plunges.
The sauna by itself had plenty of health benefits, benefits which he indirectly accredited to his successful training regimen, but another pro was that it was great for private discussions between family members. Or at least that's what Code Talker alluded to when he asked for this late-night trip after reserving it from the other residents.
"So… What did you want to talk about?" Virgil asked as he made himself comfortable.
"Tell me…" the Old Diné hummed as he feebly adjusted himself on the bench across. "How much do you know about the Parasite Unit?"
"Hmmmmm… I know that you discovered a species of parasite from the remains of The End, responsible for the man's 'mysterious abilities'. That Skull Face implemented the parasites with additional technology on numerous XOF operatives to create the Parasite Unit, otherwise known as the Skulls because of what the parasites did to the skin. That in exchange for superhuman abilities that'd leave Captain America green with envy, the parasites destroyed the majority of their cognitive functions."
"And what do you know about the Vocal Cord Parasites?"
"A group of parasitic organisms that infect the victim's vocal cords, Venom Snake discovered them on a mission to Africa in the Angola/Zaire border region. The American Philosophers used 'The One That Covers' to recreate this extinct strain as part of their ethnic cleanser project, but later abandoned the endeavor after it was deemed that targeting an entire language was too inaccurate to be useful. Skull Face himself attempted to use the vocal cord parasites in the 1980s to wipe the English language off the face of the Earth as payback. That the only way to prevent hosts from becoming symptomatic apart from willful mutism or excising the vocal cords wholesale was to infect the parasites with Wolbachia bacteria that would change them all to females."
"I see. You are indeed a student of history," the Old Diné nodded thoughtfully. " . . . Know that what I am about to tell you now, I tell you in absolute seriousness; and I ask that you listen to me until the very end before you ask any questions."
"Code Talker, I've seen some… incredible things in my time, as short as it was. You're going to have to try very hard to surprise me."
-is what a more juvenile version of himself would've said.
True, he has seen some incredible things. Mind-boggling things. Mind-shredding things!
But if there was one thing he'd learned from looking down on the Earth and out at the endless sea of stars on his way to get Tony Stark out of that bind he'd gotten himself into right after New Years, it was that there was always something new to see. Something he would never have expected. Something… other.
If what Code Talker had to say needed this sort of preface, to draw such a haunted look on his wrinkled face, it must've been of tremendous importance.
Something that would completely upend his understanding of… possibly "everything".
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Alaskan Wilderness
April 19, 9:38 ADT
The whole of that morning, Virgil hadn't spoken a word to anyone. After getting a hearty breakfast and filling a backpack with provisions, he donned his Lighter Suit, boots, and a light jacket since the aforementioned Suit didn't come with pockets. Once everything was in order, he began the relatively short trek to the border separating the interior region of Alaska from Canada.
He had no plans to actually cross the border, but at the very least, he needed a measure of solitude after what he'd been told.
And so, he walked. Walked. Walked some more. Eventually the Blackfoot settlement was long behind him, though he'd become familiar-enough with the region's topography he could return even without a compass as long as he had a map.
Coming upon a picturesque, undisturbed stretch of land, he withdrew an implement he received from Code Talker the night prior; a reinforced plastic case the size of two smartphones stacked on top of one another with a sliding panel on the top like a garage door. Pressing a button on the side, a tiny electric motor drew the sliding door up along the chassis, revealing an array of transparent rectangular patches featuring black decals in three varieties; one variety came in tightly packed concentric hexagons, another came in an array of dots, while the one that stood out most of all were Rorschachian butterflies.
Peeling one of the patches away and staring at the decal for a long moment, as he undid the zipper of his Lighter Suit and exposed his chest to the biting cold of that Alaskan April morning, his mind drifted back…
*Past*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 18, 20: 49ADT
"So…" Virgil said with a knuckle-white grip on interlaced hands. "What happens now?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean 'What do I mean'…?! I'm basically company property, right? A designer clone?!" he hissed as a sense of revulsion and self-loathing hung over him. "I suppose the only good thing about all this is that the eggheads were smart enough not to make me a clone of another clone."
"The US Government was desperate to retain the talents of The Boss, so they took shortcuts that only the narrow-minded clowns in DC could justify," Code Talker admitted aloud, hoping his levity would ease the tension. "Hargreave knew better; he intended to play the long game, which is why he took his time. No nanomachines, no accelerated aging, and a widened gene pool for greater diversity; even if it meant the end product wasn't always standardized."
"Hmph. I guess that explains why the Nanosuit and I were so compatible; it's basically a mechanized version of 'The One that Covers'."
Enhanced strength, enhanced speed, enhanced durability, enhanced eyesight, optical camouflage, scalifying armor… The only thing that the Nanosuit had been missing was the ability to generate an obscuring mist, like the Mist Unit. But that could be done with sufficiently advanced technology; like what some of the Flash's rogue's gallery used.
"So how long do I have before I go back to my cage, cut my loved ones out of my life for good like 'the obedient toy soldier'?" the teen asked bitterly, ribbons of crimson mana rolling off of him.
"Maybe if you had been raised in-house, that'd have been the case… but you've been 'free-range' your entire life," the Old Diné said with a shake of his head. "You've grown beyond anything that the project could've made you to be. You were always your own man. That you found your way back to them, to that suit, was sheer coincidence of the highest caliber. If you hadn't, it'd have been Carolina in your stead, pushing ahead with development. And unless Hargreave got our hands on your blood and tested against his own records, he'd have never known."
"So… Why did Hargreave choose her of all people?" Virgil huffed, his anger stewing inside of him, but refusing to direct it at Code Talker.
The Old Diné had been complicit, sure, but it was ultimately so he could decontaminate the Navajo Nation of the Uranium deposits that the United States government had exploited. And in order to do that, he'd needed money and facilities; both of which Hargreave was willing to provide in the wake of the Zanzibar Land Disturbance.
"I mean… The real Boss was still out there. Hargreave could've made his own clones of the Legendary Soldier, but he didn't. Instead, he chose…"
And though he knew it to be true, he still couldn't bring himself to say it.
As if not saying it aloud would stop it from being any more real…
"I'm afraid that's something only he knows. But when I said you were like my grandchild, I sincerely meant it."
Seeing the confusedly-raised eyebrow on Virgil's face, a welcome deviation from his simmering rage, the Old Diné continued.
"When I was modifying the embryos of the 'Silent Successors', I did so using traces of my own DNA as a 'binding agent' since I was the last living parasite-treated metahuman at the time. Your mother may not have been my blood, but I specially modified her so she could someday turn on Skull Face, and I still saw you and your phantom siblings as my grandchildren; in a way."
" . . . "
"If you want to be angry with me, that is fine, I can accept that. But at the very least, please don't point your anger at Foxhound or the Freelancers. They are good people. Or at least as good as 'good' can be in our world."
" . . . "
*Present*
Pressing the dermal patch to his chest above his heart, as he zipped his Lighter Suit back up, the skin around his eyes darkened with ink-like splotches, eventually forming a natural domino mask in the Roschachian shape of a butterfly.
Feeling the changes wash over him, his skin tingling from face to toe, he crouched low to the ground, breathing deeply as patches of rubber and skin phased in and out of the visible spectrum.
An instant later he was off like a gunshot, loping through the wilderness at such speeds it was like he'd teleported.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 19, 10:00 ADT
"So, the boy has been told?" the voice of Jacob Hargreave spoke over Codec.
"He has," the Old Diné subvocalized.
"And how did he take it?"
"Better than I would have hoped. Though his lack of genuinely visible anger has me more unnerved than not."
"Whether that boy realizes it or not, the myriad of family structures he's been exposed to has helped psycho-condition him to handle abrupt changes in equilibrium and emotional duress. He will endure."
"That still doesn't make it any easier. Just… upending his entire sense of 'self' like that."
"Perhaps, but if it increases his chances of survival…"
"How do you know he won't just run away? Leave this life behind?"
"Because deep down he knows that as long as Mercer is a threat, his loved ones will always be in danger. That we're the best chance he has at doing the deed himself, or helping someone else do it for him."
"And if Mercer stops being a threat? What then?"
"Then we motivate him with money," Hargreave answered succinctly. "Money doesn't only open doors, it gives you freedom. The more money you have, the more free you are to do as you wish. And that aside…" he paused contemplatively. "There are always more men like Mercer out in the world. Just like how there were always going to be more men like Skull Face. And 'justice' may be a bouncing bullseye, but 'revenge' is stationary. 'Revenge' is a currency that always retains its value."
"Perhaps, yet I hate how true that is…" the Old Diné said morosely as he hung his head.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Alaskan Wilderness
April 19. 10:08 ADT
Half an hour had passed since he pressed the "Butterfly Kiss" to his chest, and give or take a few seconds, that was when the "boost" he received finally abated from his body.
The Rorschach-like markings on his face, were longer to linger.
Opening up his Lighter Suit as emotional and physical exhaustion in equal parts clung to him like a wet blanket, he reached in and peeled off the depleted dermal patch, the inky black now bleached white in a way that made him grossly uncomfortable.
Despite his misgivings however, he crammed the depleted patch into a pocket; no need for some poor animal to suffer just because he's having a downer day.
A minute later he happened upon a babbling brook, possibly from a melting glacier, and let himself fall to his knees. Staring down into the crystal-clear waters, either from the duress of his recent existential upheaval or an after-effect of the drugs that'd been coursing through his veins, instead of his own reflection, the face that greeted him was that of a woman's.
She was beautiful, late 20s, maybe early 30s, possibly European if not American. Her chocolate-colored hair fell down in a swoop to cover her left eyebrow, swept away from her face on the right, and was pulled into a low ponytail going down past her shoulders. Her gray-green eyes were laser-focused, almost hawk-like, a spattering of black markings around her eyes vaguely in the shape of a butterfly-like Rorschach test.
Thrusting his hands into the cool waters and dispelling the phantom image, after several long moments where his own likeness reasserted itself, he cupped some of the crystal-clear water into his rubber-clad palms and slaked his thirst.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 19, 19:46 ADT
"Think he'll be back?" Hayter asked as he and Code Talker watched over Snake's collection of trained huskies.
"I can only hope so," Code Talker hummed morosely as he hugged the blankets closer to himself.
His colony of parasites weren't exactly hampered by the cold, but they weren't exactly comforted by the Alaskan springtime weather either.
"So, are things still as weird in Foxhound as when I left?"
"Probably weirder," the Old Diné shrugged. "Things were so much simpler back in the 80s."
" . . . Wait, really?" Hayter blinked.
"Not really, no…" Code Talker amended.
" . . . If it makes any difference, whatever it was you said to him, I think in the end, he'll appreciate that you were straight with him. Sure, need-to-know exists for a reason, but I've seen plenty of people burned by finding out something they could've been just as easily told by a superior, from a complete stranger if not an enemy."
"I can only hope so."
A bead of black appearing on the horizon a short time later, Code Talker and Hayter watched as the distant speck resolved itself into a rubber-clad teen in a light coat. His expression was contemplative as his booted feet easily traversed the snow-laden ground, but eventually, he came to a stop in front of the Old Diné. The two stared at one another for a long moment, eyes of crimson red meeting milky white, but eventually it was the younger of the two who broke the silence.
"Gaagii."
"Yes?"
"Thank you for being straight with me."
" . . . You are welcome."
"Hm."
And with that said, he walked past the two and into his temporary lodgings.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Bludhaven
April 19, 23:34 EST
For one Emerald Sustrai, the last few weeks had been… trying, to say the least.
Not only had Mercury been incessantly teasing her about dipping their new teammate before heft "for parts unknown" – which was complete bunk because they knew exactly where he went –, but in general he had been completely insufferable. Or rather, it may have simply been the fact that without Virgil around to "dilute" his presence in her life, their problematic personality types had nothing else to bounce off of.
Sure, Cinder kept the peace when they were together, but she wasn't their babysitter. She didn't hold their hands. When she wasn't around, she expected them to behave, but everything else was fair game as long as it didn't affect the mission.
And while she wasn't exactly interested in making new friends, Virgil's two "outputs" – the shut-in genius who was surprisingly hot without her glasses, and a Silicon Valley dropout whose over-glorified science fair project made someone explode – repeatedly insisted on hanging out. Whether it was at the nicer parts of town or at the Red Light, eventually they wore her down and, after slipping away from Merc who she'd had quite enough of that day, met the two in the heart of Russian Mafia territory of all places.
*Past*
Bludhaven
April 18, 10:16 EST
'That's one big barista…' Emerald thought to herself as she followed Athena and Gaige into one of the local Starbucks, the man behind the counter looking only a little out of place with how much muscle he was packing.
Hell, the guy looked like he could grind the coffee beans bare-handed…!
"Hey guys! I saved you some seats!"
"Oh sweet salty Christ…" Emerald groaned as the pretty-yet-eccentric Gwendolyn Poole waved them over from a back table.
"Wait, did you tell her about this meeting?" Athena whispered.
"Me? I thought you told her," Gaige hissed back.
"Why? What's your beef with her?" the greenette stage-whispered to the two.
"She solicited Vee for sex."
"Oh is that all?" she asked with an eye roll.
"I don't see why you're salty over it," Gaige huffed the blond's way. "You wanted to watch if they got it on."
"W-Wait, for real?!" Emerald sputtered.
"I-I only said that because Vee has a magnetic penis…!" Athena sputtered, causing a few of the clientele to raise their heads before turning their attention back to their food and/or drinks. " . . . Let's just sit down…" she muttered embarrassingly as the three of them joined Gwen at the table in the back.
"So, we havin' girl-talk, or serious girl-talk?" Gwendolyn asked as she steepled her fingers after putting on a pair of reflective spectacles that hid her eyes from view. "And before you ask, yes, this is an Evangelion reference~"
"Nobody asked," Athena huffed.
"You were in your heads."
"Shit, she's onto us," Gaige cursed.
'I'm amazed Vee hasn't institutionalized himself yet…' Emerald thought as she observed the byplay. "Gwendolyn, hiiiiii~" she said putting on her best 'gal-pal' voice.
"Emerald, I'm not that ditzy," the pink-accented blond deadpanned.
"Oh, so you are self-aware, then," the greenette hummed, letting some of her mask slide away.
"More like meta-aware, but that isn't why we're here," the other pretty blond in Virgil's life replied as she waved a server down, who deposited four steaming mugs of coffee onto their table, a hotel-sized bottle of vodka hidden under the stack of napkins. "So, you going to add Em to our harem?"
"I'm sorry, 'our'?" Athena scoffed.
"It only counts if you've bedded him," Gaige hummed before Athena ribbed her. "What? It's true, isn't it?"
"Girls, please, I don't like him like that…" Emerald trailed off.
"That's not what social media says~" Gwen and Gaige said in stereo as they held up their phones, showing Emerald and 'Vincent' on both sides of the English Channel displaying extremely conservative signs of affection for one another.
Which was basically enough to get their respective fanbases chomping at the bit for yet more pictures to that effect.
"I-I was just playing it up for the cameras!" Emerald stuttered as she fought down a blush- 'Wait, why the hell am I blushing?!'
"Look at you, blushing like a schoolgirl~" Gwen grinned. "So, when'd you first fall for him? For me, it was when he used himself as bait for that Ghost Car."
"I'm sorry, 'Ghost Car'?" Emerald blinked. "No, wait a second, I'm not a home-wrecker."
"It's not home-wrecking if it's consensual," Athena sighed, remembering how Gaige had eventually worn her down. "If you don't like him right now, that's fine. If you only want to stay 'friends', that's fine too. But if he winds up becoming your emotional support animal like with this homicidal sociopath-"
"No, no, no, I am not crazy! I got a doctor's note and everything," Gaige protested.
"And what'd the note say?"
" . . . "
"I rest my case-As I was saying…" Athena said getting back on track. "If you genuinely come to care about him, or if you want to use him to keep boys away, or you just want to fool around, then that's fine. Just don't try and steal him from me, because I'm a Moxxi, and…"
"And?"
"The rest sounded better in my head," Athena admitted after holding her tongue. "Point is, if you want him to pamper you, or 'pamper' you… you have our blessing."
"Yup, you sure do~" Gwen added with a smile, causing Athena to roll her eyes.
"You girls are nuts, you know that, right?" Emerald asked aloud as she sipped from her coffee, having slipped just a splash of vodka into her beverage.
This conversation was too fucking weird to have stone cold sober.
"You say that, yet you're the one who swapped spit with him before he left town~" Gwen grinned a cheshire grin, Emerald's eyes going wide as she spat her coffee into Gaige's face.
"ACK! BACKWASH!" the red-head cried.
"Soooooo…" Athena hummed as she loudly drummed her fingers on the table. "Anything you'd like to share with the class, Ms. Sustrai?"
" . . . "
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Suffice it to say, despite her best efforts to the contrary, Virgil's outputs wrung out the fact that she had been thinking along certain lines since New Years.
Virgil was easy on the eyes, morally flexible when the situation called for it, infinitely more palatable than Mercury whom she had had a hate/love relationship with, and she herself would never stoop to "socializing" with some random normie like Mercury "the playboy" was wont to do.
And sure, he'd shared a very intimate secret with her, treated her kindly with no strings attached for possibly the first time in her life, and she'd hardcore dipped him while shoving her tongue down his throat before he'd left the state. And maybe she had been pleasuring herself to thoughts of how he'd reward her after learning how-good a job she did of converting his loot into spendable cash, but...
But...
. . .
*Present*
"Oh my god, I really am falling for the guy…"
This admittance, which she had most definitely not intended to speak aloud back then, had thusly earned her the probationary title of "Polyamorous Tertiary (Pending)"; assuming Gwen didn't bed him before her and relegate her to the role of Quarternary.
So, with all this going on in her life, it was understandable why the green-haired girl was having such a hard time going to sleep that night.
*Clun-clunk*
*Creeeeeeak*
Her closet door suddenly opening from within like something from a horror movie, Emerald sat up, eyes narrowed fiercely.
"Merc, I swear to god, if you've been creeping on me for the past hour, I'll-!" she hissed drawing a knife from under her pillow.
Of course, that fit of ire rapidly extinguished itself as a warm glow filled her room and, instead of staring into her own walk-in closet, found herself peering into a luxuriant Victorian-era foyer. And standing there on the precipice atop dark hardwood flooring was the young man who'd been plaguing her thoughts as of late, one hand clamped over his eyes as the other held the door.
"Um… I can come back later if you want."
" . . . "
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
House of Secrets
April 19, 23:43 EST?
After ensuring she was decent with a terrycloth bathrobe and "floofy" bunny slippers to go with her luxuriant silk pajamas, Emerald accepted Virgil's invitation to join him within the House of Secrets. An existence that, even now, she couldn't divulge about in any way, shape, or form.
And ignoring the fact that he'd teleported across a continent and into her bedroom on a whim, that he'd done so with a hand clapped over his eyes in case she weren't decent caused her heart to excitedly flutter; no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.
"Vee, can I be candid with you?" Emerald asked as she sat across from him in a swanky sitting room, a cheese plate on the nearby table.
"Of course."
"You look like shit, man," she said drinking in the bags under his eyes and his disheveled hair.
"Oh, yeah, I… I've just… got some things to sort out…" he said trying – in vain – to make himself presentable to her. An effort that caused her heart to traitorously flutter within her breast. "Um, first thing's first, welcome to my house."
"You said that already."
"Right, right, so I did…" Virgil said rubbing at his eyes.
"Vee," she said reaching over to him and taking his hand. "What's wrong?"
"I… learned something the other day. And I guess I'm just… processing…" he reciprocated with a desperate grip.
"Well…" Emerald hummed as she moved to sit beside him and held his hands with hers. "I'm not going anywhere, so you can take your time."
*One Explanation Later…*
House of Secrets
April 20, 00:19 EST?
"Wow, that's…" Emerald hummed completely dumbstruck.
"Yeah…"
"I mean… How the hell do you even…?" she said putting a hand to her head.
"Yup…"
"I mean sure, the world's full of weird shit like that, but getting that sorta bomb dropped on you…!"
"Uh-huh…"
"No wonder you look like hell froze over!" she said snapping her eyes up at him.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Vee, if either of your girlfriends saw you looking like this, they'd handcuff you to the bed," the greenette said frankly. "And not in the sexy fun way, either."
"Well, I'm glad I've got such a reliable friend to spill my guts to, then," Virgil hummed with a small smile, not noticing the way Emerald's cheeks flushed because she was using her meta-ability to conceal it.
That same smile turning wounded and fragile a moment later, killer her blush and made her heart go out to him in a way she couldn't deny...
"Well… I can see why you wanted to keep that sort of thing on this side of the tracks," Emerald said aloud as she gripped his hand. "Are you gonna be okay?"
" . . . I think I might be."
*Chu*
"Glad to hear it~" Emerald smirked at the gob-smacked expression she drew from his face. "Oh! And good news!" she added as he cupped his cheek, his expression a real confidence-booster. "I was able to turn that pirate treasure into cash. Your cut will be waiting for you when you get back."
"That's… That's good to hear," Virgil said as he blinked owlishly at her.
"And hey, look at the bright side: at least they didn't clone you off the old guy~"
"Yeah, there is that…" Virgil nodded.
"Ah, see! You're looking better already!" Emerald grinned, slapping him on the back. "No, but seriously, though," she said putting her hands on his shoulders and turning him to face her. "If you ever need to talk to someone from our side of the tracks about anything… my closet's always open."
"Actually, it needs to be a closed door or the magic won't work."
"My closet's always metaphorically open," the greenette amended with a small flush. "Now, come on, bring it in," she said holding out her arms, "you still look like you need a hug."
"Um-"
"Don't worry, your girlfriends gave me the green light," Emerald grinned. "Despite all protests to the contrary," she stage-whispered with a sideways glance.
"They didn't give membership cards to anyone else, did they?"
"No. Just me."
" . . . But dammit if I need this…" Virgil said as he embraced her, resting his chin on her shoulder, as did she on his.
"Hmmm~ You've got a nice back~" the greenette cooed as her sticky fingers wandered.
Unlike Mercury who made her skin crawl, Virgil gave her a warm, gooey center.
Maybe it was because in the back of her head, she knew she could corrupt him?
Well, "corrupt" apart from the sense that he had multiple girlfriends before she even met him…
Thoughts for another day, but what was important, was that she was a part of the process of turning him to the Dark Side...~
'I'll blame it on being touch-starved…' she told herself as she held the moment, relishing the literal and metaphorical warmth enveloping her.
They'd talk things out in full when he wasn't all torn up inside, dealing with an existential crisis like something straight out of a comic book.
And sure, she was more than capable of taking advantage of people; she'd gotten lessons to that effect from one of the very best in the business. But she just couldn't bring herself to do as such to someone that'd put such faith in her not just once or even twice, but three times. Someone who, for possibly the first time in her life, treated her kindly without any strings attached; without jotting it down in a ledger toward "dues owed" for reimbursal at a later date.
Not when what could become a genuinely meaningful romance in a life that could end at any moment was concerned.
"Huh. Maybe you do have 'a magnetic god damn penis'..." she hummed thoughtfully.
"My what now...?" Virgil blinked.
"Shit! Did not mean to say that out loud..."
" . . . Fuck it. I'm gonna keep hugging you."
"Huh... No wonder you're like catnip to crazy, emotionally damaged teenage girls~"
"Hey, you said it, not me~"
"I-I wasn't talking about meee!" the greenette protested.
"And yet, you aren't letting go," he hummed giving her a squeeze.
"H-Hey! You're holding onto me too you know...!" she said returning the favor with a little more vigor.
"Well, you did tell me I have a nice body, so of course I'm gonna 'hold it against you'~" he said leaning into her.
" . . . Pft! That was so fucking corny, yet I love the role reversal!" she giggled girlishly as she leaned him back, having never had this sort of byplay with Mercury.
" . . . "
" . . . "
" . . . "
"Um... What now?" Emerald asked after a long moment, not sure how to proceed after realizing how comforting it was to just... hug it out.
"Well, I don't think I'm gonna be in the mood for sex for a good while. Can we just cuddle?"
"That's such a dork move... Yet I can't really fault you for it," she said feeling herself relax against him. "Full disclosure; I have a huuuge girl-crush on Ms. Fall."
"Not me, and not just because I'm a guy."
"What? Why?" she asked incredulously like his words were sacrilege.
"That chick scares me, and not in the sexy fun way; I mean in the 'I need a safe word' way."
"Which automatically makes you smarter than 90% of the guys she talks to."
And the two of them gabbed like hens into the wee hours of the morning before falling asleep in one another's arms.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
April 24
Admittedly, it took Virgil more than a day to fully come to grips with the fact that he'd been a "designer clone" the entire time, but he was always quick to bounce back from what life threw at him. And at the very least, he would live as long as an ordinary human being.
Life-shortening habits aside…
As for the dermal patches, or "Butterfly Kisses" as the lab geeks called them even though only one variety had butterflies on them, in Layman's terms, they suppressed the non-meta part of his DNA, allowing his genes to more-freely express the parasitic enhancements of his genetic mother for half an hour. Not only did this include the superhuman strength, speed, agility, resilience, and durability broadly shared across the Mist, Camo, and Armor Units, but in Virgil's case, he seemed to be in possession of the near-invisible camouflaging ability, as well as limited quasi-phasing ability. He wouldn't be able to walk through a wall, but handcuffs would be no problem, with adequate training.
Eventually he wouldn't even need the patches, because the Transcription Factors already slipped into his system were slowly "flipping the switches" that had long been in the "Off Position"; a precaution taken to improve the likelihood of juvenile survival since Babies & Superpowers could be a very bad mix.
According to Code Talker, the entire point of Hargreave's line of "Silent Successors" made in part from Quiet's DNA, was that eventually, they'd possess the full gamut of meta-parasitic abilities, at least in the best-case scenario. Because of the varied paternal DNA paired with Quiet's for the sake of genetic diversity, however, not all of the designer "SS-Clones" were projected to actually inherit every single ability bestowed by the same dermal parasites that made The End and The Pain so legendary. Throw in the fact that their "growth potential" was augmented with the Super Baby Method, albeit to a lesser degree, and you were looking at an entire generation of legendary soldiers, with none of the normal drawbacks apart from the wait-time.
Or at least, that had been the plan, anyway.
As life would have it, eco-terrorists and corporate saboteurs would attack Hargreave's paramilitary holdings in Asia, intentionally or unintentionally terminating the majority of the then-current SS-Clones before they could reach maturity. A handful of the SS-Clones survived the initial incidents but perished due to wholly unrelated medical complications, and fewer still went missing altogether before perishing in all likelihood.
Virgil, as he would eventually be named, was truly a miracle child, rescued by sentimental scientists before being handed over to a foster family in the states under Hargreave's nose. That his new parents would be killed in a case of vehicular manslaughter, was just a case of wholly rotten luck.
That the Nanosuit would later find its way into his hands, was in of itself "a statistical impossibility", but yet further proof that you couldn't predict anything; no matter how much money you threw at the math geeks.
Virgil himself had been part of the third-generation batch, Subject No.56, but when he asked whether or not Hargreave was cooking up a fourth, if only because they too would be his "phantom siblings", Code Talker admitted to not knowing. This of course led to speculation that if Hargreave were, the man was keeping a much tighter lid on it than before and closer to home so as not to have a repeat of past tragedies; and likely in a smaller batch size for operational security.
Thus, for all intents and purposes, Virgil could be considered the only field-ready half-clone of the legendary XOF assassin.
"So… wait, was the Nanosuit meant to give anyone the power of the Parasite Units, and give whoever already had the powers a massive boost?"
To that, Code Talker could only shrug his shoulders.
"Well, at least I'm not sterile like the only other clone I know."
"Perhaps. But that's not any guarantee your progeny would inherit your own meta-abilities."
"Not even remotely the point, Gaagii…"
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
May 1, 10:42 ADT
By May, many animals became fully active, making it an excellent time to see wildlife in Alaska. Many species by this point were engaged in mating and breeding behaviors, birds being particularly active during this time, with many migrating north to nest and raise their young. Additionally, many species of mammals gave birth at this time, including moose, caribou, and Dall sheep.
"Is it normal that after a month and change in the sub-arctic that I'm adapting to the cold, or is it just that the Lighter Suits are getting better?" Virgil inquired as he showered Snake's huskies with affection.
Were it not for the unconditional love showered to him by these adorable fur-babies, on top of his loved ones from back home, it was likely that the world-shredding revelation about being a "designer clone" – like something out of Star Wars: The Clone Wars – would've hit him far harder than it had.
"A little of column A, a little of column B," Hayter groused, wearing a Lighter Suit of his own; though of a different cut with colored piping along the major muscle groups. "How about you? How are things with… your mother?"
That last part was in code, but barely subtle.
" . . . I wish I could've met her, but knowing she gave her life to save the world at the end, even if no-one knows about it… That'll have to be enough for me," Virgil sighed as he stepped out of the enclosure.
"By the way, where do you vanish off to every other weekend?"
"What, haven't figured it out yet?" he asked cheekily.
"I'm guessing you found a local hunnie, but it's just as likely you found a quiet place to 'take care of yourself'."
"Should a married man with fifty fur-babies really be talking like that?"
"Hey, it isn't just 'fur-babies'…!" Hayter protested. "We just have an empty nest right now…"
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Alaskan Wilderness
May 8, 8:01 ADT
An added benefit of training out in the Alaskan wilderness was the fact that Virgil had a wide-open space to practice his magic and parasite powers in. With a population density of roughly 1.2 per square mile, Alaska was about as good as you could have it in terms of privacy.
Even if it was cold as balls out there…
Of course, it was hardly the people Virgil was worried about. Ever since falling so-deeply into The Red that he could resurrect a perfect killing machine from the Cretaceous Period, he'd experienced a heightened appreciation for the animals in the world around him. As such, he was extremely selective in what magic he used, so as not to disturb the local wildlife.
At this very moment in fact, he had conjured pillars of earth and rock to lash out at with the Metallic Archaea his latent meta-parasitic abilities allowed him to generate; and since he'd limited himself to one Butterfly Kiss a day every few days to mitigate the accumulation of potential side-effects, he had to make the absolute most of the time allowed.
At present, with the Armor Unit Patch he could only form black gauntlets of hardened archaea capable of cracking boulders. A hit like that would lay a normal man down on their ass, or into a coffin… so he could definitely understand why Hargreave wanted to mechanize "The One that Covers", if not mass produce those that could utilize those abilities organically.
In contrast, the original Armor Units were not only capable of covering their entire bodies in metallic archaea capable of shrugging off automatic gunfire, but were also able to summon it from the ground and rendering it into a powerful explosive capable of annihilating an armored vehicle, as well as telekinetically lobbing hardened archeon structures through the air.
And point of fact, he'd been using the dermal patches to cycle through the powers of the Mist and Camouflage Units as well. Each variation of the dermal parasite powers took something different out of him, and because he had been custom-tooled to make use of those abilities, he didn't possess the usual weaknesses; reduced cognitive functions in the case of the Parasite Units, and a reliance on dermal respiration in the case of Quiet. Not to mention, because he exhibited the powers of The One that Covers instead of being infected himself, he wasn't a slave to the parasites' compulsion to absorb freshwater on contact.
Of course, the tradeoff was that all of these abilities didn't come to him naturally, and his expression of these abilities was far weaker than the genuine article.
In the case of the prior, the only thing he could do was train the use of these abilities through repetition. In the case of the latter, the only thing he could do about that was grow into a prime specimen of an adult whose body could handle the biochemical processes involved; maybe even receive Parasite-Treatment with a new generation of "Covers".
Of course, even without the patches, now that the key had been turned, little by little, he was becoming superhuman in the same way his mother was. He couldn't photosynthesize, or run at near-teleportation levels of speed, nor could he "phase" out of handcuffs, but he was definitely becoming stronger and faster; which of course meant he had to train all the harder to get the returns that he wanted.
But that was ultimately why he was there in Alaska. To improve himself and to learn.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Blackfoot Settlement
May 13, 10:30 ADT
"And you're sure you have everything you need?" Code Talker fretted worriedly, not unlike a grandparent.
"Yes, Gaagii, I triple-checked everything," Virgil said patting his dogsled. "And Mr. Hayter gave me some of Snake's best sled dogs. I'm in capable hands."
*Woof!*
*Bark!*
*Yip!*
"Fine, capable paws," the brunette amended as he checked the towlines on the twelve sled dogs he would be using.
The plan was to spend a week out in the Alaskan wilderness running a large circuit in the eastern part of the state near Canada's border. Though the 2010 Iditarod was two months hence, and in a completely different season, this would still be excellent training in the event Virgil himself wanted to run the Iditarod. Snake for his part never implicated a vicarious desire to have Virgil win in his own stead, but the lament that he was never able to win it before he got "too old" had been all too clear in his voice when plans to ship him off to Alaska for accelerated training came up.
"Remember, you have more than enough supplies to last you for a week out there, and we'll be tracking you the entire time," Hayter said holding up an iDroid; one made with modern components and thus was about half the size in exchange for decreased robustness. "If at any time you need rescue, just activate the distress beacon and we'll be on our way."
"I'll try not to need rescuing," Virgil admitted as he rubbed his dogs down one last time, the lot of them chomping at the metaphorical bit to run like hell.
It was a lovely spring day, after all.
"And it's not like I'll be alone out there. I've got a sat phone too, so everyone back home is only a phone call away," Virgil mounted as he mounted his sled, the dogs' excitement palpable. "HYAH!"
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Alaskan Wilderness
May 17, 17:37 ADT
Dog sledding through the borderlands of Alaska, Virgil could well and truly understand why the state earned the moniker "The Last Frontier". Outside of population centers, the Alaskan wilderness was almost completely pristine, and postcards or photos did not do it justice. He was already planning on getting some Lighter Suits for personal use and taking his girls out here; and when the heck did calling them "his girls" start to feel so normal?
But first, Mercer would have to be dealt with. While Miller had given him a timetable, things could just-as-easily deteriorate necessitating an immediate incursion into the Red Zone for lack of a better option.
Not that he was completely sure he could take Mercer out. The guy survived a nuclear warhead going off almost literally in his lap, bearing an estimated yield equivalent to 450 kilotons of TNT; allegedly enough to wipe the whole of Manhattan off the map. Take his "Reactive Evolution" into account, and he might've already become resistant to ultra-high temperatures; the very ability he cultivated at Argus for the explicit purpose of taking out Mercer. Because if there was one thing that Dragonball Z taught him, it was that people who could regenerate "from a single cell" were a massive pain up the ass…
Life imitates art, after all.
Shaking off those dour thoughts before the dogs could pick up on them, as-empathic as they seemingly were at times, he directed them to the top of a ridge before pulling back on the reins, deciding to take a moment to orient himself between his maps and his compass.
"Hm. We've made excellent time," the brunette hummed to himself. "Alright, boys, let's-"
Before he could finish that statement, his thoughts were cut off by a certain… something… urging his attention in the direction of the Canadian border, deep into the wood line.
He wasn't sure if it was a call of the magical variety, The Red trying to nudge him in that direction like Jedi were by The Force, or if maybe it was the Mother Earth whispering in his ear if not capital-c Christ. He just knew something was compelling him to go that way, for better or ill.
"If I'm not back in an hour, go back home," Virgil said as he began to rummage through his supplies, holstering a knife to the small of his back and his tomahawk onto his hip before adjusting his goggles and drawing his hood tighter around his head.
*THE LAST FRONTIER*
Virgil wasn't quite sure how much time had passed. Ten, twenty minutes, maybe. But when he caught the sound of footsteps through the snow, his body immediately went tense in anticipation.
Taking immediate stock of his surroundings, from the placement and thickness of the trees to the amount of snow on the ground around him, as his heart's tempo slowly elevated, a figure suddenly came around the corner.
She was a slender thing, Caucasian-mix with a tan complexion, clad neck to toe in black leather and combat boots, beige-colored padding on her side deltoids. She looked to be around Zatanna's age, maybe a little older but possibly younger, with dark-brown hair going past her shoulders and green eyes that had been hardened by untold hardships. The same eyes he'd see in the Red Zone every time he looked in a reflective surface.
"You…" the girl muttered confusedly, nostrils flaring as she leaned in his direction.
"Yeah, me…" Virgil said, feeling his neck-hairs standing on end as the girl approached him, an intense focus on her expression as she came right up to him, the top of her head coming up to the tip of his nose. "Uhhhhh," he hummed as she actually sniffed him.
The next moment, boots crunched through the snow, whatever trance this girl was seemingly under broken as she whirled around. Virgil moving to stand protectively in front of her, was immediately confronted by two men in full winter camo, tactical gear, and automatic rifles.
"Command, the subject has come into contact with a hiker, maybe a dog sledder. Please advise," the one on the left said into a headset.
" . . . "
"Command says to leave no witnesses," the first man said to the second, disengaging his coms.
The dispassion in his tone as he moved to adjust his rifle causing something in Virgil's expression to harden, the skin around his eyes turned black behind his goggles, a familiar, unyielding rage tempered by an almost instinctual desire to protect welling up inside of him.
To Be Continued…
*AN*
Spaceman and I back-and-forth-ed quite a bit on this, so hopefully there wasn't anything too racially/politically incorrect/insensitive in our portrayal of the Blackfoot people. And it isn't like Native Americans only live on Reservations; thinking that, is definitely racist.
I'm also happy to finally get to the end of that trail of breadcrumbs I've been layout out since… forever ago, I don't remember exactly when. Having Virgil be a clone of Quiet "with extra steps" was always the plan, because with the Ceph in mind, Hargreave was always going to play "the long game"; there was never any need for accelerated aging, since unlike Palpatine, Hargreave isn't in control of the timetable. And unlike The Patriots, Hargreave was never on that kind of time crunch, and the Nanosuit was just in case the "Silent Successor" line of Designer Clones didn't work out.
That the Nanosuit from Crysis has abilities similar to the Parasite Units from Metal Gear V: The Phantom Pain was just a happy coincidence, and helps bring the worlds of Crysis & Metal Gear together.
But anyway, hope to see you all in the Reviews section, and I'll see you next time on Chronicle of Zhu: Book 2 – Reconstruction.
Oh, but one laaaast thing~
*DELETED SCENE*
"Hey, Gwen," Emerald Sustrai said with a flat expression.
"Yes, Emerald?" Gwendolyn Poole asked sweetly as she stirred sugar into her 'Coffee with Love'.
"I let that one comment slide earlier because Athena raked me over the coals, but now that I have enough latitude to ask... How in the hell did you know about the, erm... 'liberties' I took with Virgil before he left?" she said with a heated glare, taking a moment to properly vet the last part of her inquiry since the girl was right there.
"Oh, I have meta-awareness," Gwen hummed before taking a sip.
"Um, I'm sorry, 'meta-awareness'?" Emerald inquired dryly.
"Yeah, see, originally it was because I 'Isekai'd' into the Marvel comics universe from Earth-1218, but then there was something about a retcon making me into 'a mutant with reality manipulation powers' during my Cancelation Watch, and now I cameo into an off-brand Detective Comics universe multi-crossover story as a 'variant'," the pretty blond rambled aloud, causing Emerald and Athena to give the girl flat looks while Gaige hummed speculatively.
"So by 'meta-aware', do you mean like Don Quixote?" the Mechromancer inquired.
"Don Quixote wasn't meta-aware, he just read too many old novels and was up to his eyeballs in persistent delusional disorder," Athena huffed back. "If anything, Gwen just 'sees things' like an Oracle and it just happened to be pertinent to our situation."
"That or we're being watched by higher-dimensional beings through the Fourth Wall," Gaige countered.
"Read," Gwen corrected. "We're being observed through a written medium instead of a graphic one. Maybe that'll change if we're put in a fan comic, but..." she shrugged.
Emerald for her part could only roll her eyes before asking- "And why, pray tell, are you sharing something so personal when it makes you sound like a crazy person?"
"Because relationships are built on honesty," Gwen answered with a completely serious face. "Athena eventually told Vee about her personality disorder-"
At this the blond sputtered into her mug mid-sip.
"-and Gaige was very forthcoming about her manic tendencies."
"Don't hate the player~"
"But the thing is, Vee's grappling with a lot right now, so I'm not gonna just dump my issues on top of his, even if everything he's gone through makes him more-likely to at least consider that what I have to say is plausible," she continued. "After all, Superman has a fifth-dimensional nuisance who pesters him from time to time. Only difference for me is that I'm meta-aware, but far weaker in a written medium."
"So like, if you were being portrayed in a graphic medium, what could you do then?" Gaige asked interestedly.
"Interact with the speech bubbles, step out of the panels into the gutter space, talk to the reader, count the remaining pages until the end of the book. You know, that sort of thing," the pretty blond counted off with her fingers while Athena and Emerald shared a look. That Gaige was actually taking this seriously only hurt Gwen's credibility.
Well, further hurt. Because if Gwen wasn't crazy, what did the alternative mean?
"Widespread existential crises," Gwen said poignantly to the two causing them to look up at her.
"Are you-"
"Not reading your minds, I'm just meta-aware," she said before winking off into empty space.
"Riiiiiight..." Emerald hummed, deciding to keep her thoughts to herself in case the girl was some kind of Seer.
Meta-abilities like that were the most dangerous, and the most sought-after, for a reason.
Issue was, however, that you could fake it with cold reading and make government agencies look real stupid; hence the need to carefully vet potential meta-human assets of the more esoteric variety.
"Still, even though I can understand our writer's intention to not interrupt Em's internal dialogue and self-reflection, I only feel so-so about being relegated into a 'Deleted Scene'; even if it is still Canonical to this story," Gwen hummed as she glanced upward partway through her sentence. "I mean sure, deleted scenes are some of the best stuff on the DVD sometimes, but still."
"How about we change the subject," Athena sighed, feeling like her mirrored self wanted to chime in and cause a scene. "Gwendolyn... Why do you want Virgil to pamper you with quotation marks-"
"Or an asterisk," Gaige chimed in.
"Because goody two-shoes types like Superman are booooriiing," Gwen answered with a flippant wave of her hand. "That and as long as I'm standing next to the main character, I'm basically invincible," she said before thumbing her chin. "Unless the writer wants to take a darker tone with a scene; in which case, I might actually be kinda screwed," she muttered under her breath before blinking. 'Ah, I see what you did there, Neo~' she thought toward the writer, hiding her pervertedly smug grin behind her hand. "All that aside! Take away all the craziness, and at his heart, Virgil's just a cute 'boy next door' type. Why wouldn't I wanna date him?"
"Maybe because he's already taken?"
-is what Athena would've said if it wouldn't come across as completely hypocritical, given she'd already caved to the Mechromancer's sexually-frustrated pestering.
"Just... don't 'clam jam' any of us during date night, and I'm sure you'll be fine," she eventually conceded, since ultimately it was Virgil who'd have to reciprocate Gwen's and/or Emerald's feelings first.