White Cobra

((Emily Chang is late for a charity dinner)) “No, no, no!” Emily clenched the steering wheel tightly and pulled into a bank of snow at the side of the road. This isn’t happening, she thought. Not now of all times. But the hitherto unknown warning lamp glaring at her from the dashboard was unmistakably of the “do not even think about driving an inch further” variant, as if she hadn’t known that from the sudden, angry engine vibrations and pertinent loss of power already. Her fingers reached eagerly for the phone. At least she could call and say she would be late. Alert them to her vehicular misfortune. Rei would understand, surely. “No!” Emily’s voice was almost a sob. Dead. Just as they had claimed what she feared was one or more ignition coils on her engine, the vampiric polar temperatures had drained all battery from the phone. Emily buried her face in her hands for a moment, struggling to cope. She hated being late, hated it. And being late for the annual Mizuni charity dinner… “No, no, no!” Banging her hands against the steering wheel wasn’t going to favorably affect her predicament. Emily grabbed her clutch, braced herself, and ventured outside. Ivory pumps sunk into a mixture of sleet and snow, and she shook her head in dismay. Ten minutes later, headlights illuminated the dark country road from behind. Emily turned and waved frantically. The car slowed down a bit, but then accelerated as it came closer, spraying her with sleet and snow as it sped by. Wiping her eyes clean, Emily thought she might have recognized her ex-husband William’s midnight blue Mercedes and the silver-blonde tresses of Anni Nakayima’s hair. Shivering, she resumed the staggering journey onwards. Another set of headlights made her thank the heavens. Again she turned and waved frantically, hoping to alert a knight in shining armor. This time the car – red, fancy and with a muscular roar to its engine – didn’t even bother slowing down. It took the time to spray her with sleet again though, before vanishing in the distance ahead. Emily wanted to cry; it wasn’t as if tears could do much further damage to the no doubt ruined makeup anyway. -0- When she finally reached the gates of the Mizuni country mansion and had persuaded the guards that she was actually on the guest list and not a vaguely humanoid block of ice gone astray, she was more than an hour and a half late. “Ms. Chang, it is so good to see you.” The warm greeting from Mouse as he took her coat took the worst edges off her budding hypothermia. “My…my car…” she started as Mouse led her towards the dining room, but the gentle giant placed a colossal comforting hand on her shoulder and assured her that there was nothing to worry about. Perhaps he hadn’t seen the seating plan, Emily thought as she stopped to study the chart. Oh no! She was at the honorary main table and recognized many of the names on the list. There was no way she could do this. She turned, but Mouse was blocking her way, smiling. Gently, he nudged her towards the dining room entrance and inside. Emily’s walk of shame lasted an eternity, but finally she was at the table where people were just about done with the first course. Anni Nakayima stared at her disapprovingly from across the table. “Emily, you look…” She didn’t finish the sentence but the meaning was clear. Emily Looked like something even a stomach flu-infested owl would feel embarrassed about having regurgitated. “Thank you, you too,” Emily managed. Anni Nakayima’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling in outrage as far as the many Botox-treatments would allow, and she turned to her beau for support. “It really is awfully bad form Emily,” William said, shaking his head. “My…my car broke down…” “How unfortunate,” the handsome man next to her interjected. “And this coming just after the dog ate your homework, I suppose.” The table laughed and Emily tried pulling back her chair with eyes cast down. He had to be Takuma Nakayima, perhaps it had been him in the fancy red car. No wonder then maybe that he didn’t have the manners to help her with the chair, or perhaps he felt it wasn’t called for due to Emily’s own etiquette breaking tardiness. Anni Nakayima was still on the warpath. “William, honestly, does she have to stand there looking like that? It’s making me lose my appetite. Couldn’t you ask her to go clean herself up a bit?” Several patrons at the table laughed again. Emily bit her lip. How dare that plastic surgery world record holding old hag… But as usual any notion of witty repartee had abandoned her, and she didn’t know how to respond to the mockery and laughing. She focused on combatting the watery pressure building behind her eyes. “Cobra-sama…” Emily froze. Rei Mizuni had walked up to her, radiant like the sun goddess Amaterasu in a stunning lavender dress. “I…I am so sorry…my…my car…” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, Emily willed herself desperately. “I am overjoyed you are here, you are the most important guest to have come. And may I say, you have as always the most exquisite beauty and elegance…” Rei looked around the table, her ravishing dark eyes like weapons of mass destruction poised to eliminate anyone that would dare challenge her assessment. “T-thank you…” Emily’s head was still bowed in shame. “Nakayima-san,” Rei continued directed at Takuma, “I believe you are forget your manners. May I suggest you will most kindly help Cobra-sama about the chair.” He gulped and jumped to his feet, as Rei placed a gentle hand on Emily’s shoulder just like Mouse had done. “And there is no need you shall worry about the car. I will arrange for the room, you can sleep here tonight, and tomorrow as the first thing, Makarov will attend to it.” With a final warning glance around the table, Rei Mizuni returned to her seat. There was no more laughing, and Anni Nakayima didn’t seem to mind the stains of sleet on Emily after all, although she did seem rather pale and to have lost some of her appetite.

((Difficult situations for the Lady Cobra come in many forms and disguises, but ex-husband William is a frequent accelerant and common denominator when things go bad for Emily. She avoids him as best she can, but sometimes for investigative purposes she may be forced to reach out to him, such as in this account. WARNING: It hints at some unpleasant dynamics in Emily’s past marriage and is a bit dark, so it may not be for everyone!)) ((On a more positive note: A giant Merry Christmas and thank you to all the wonderful players, forumites and GMs/staff at HC)) -0- I’ll stand kind of pushed, kind of bent, on this heavy land. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Down Boy -0- As always, the imposing CHANG INDUSTRIES sign triggered stomach flutters as Emily entered the building. She approached the striking woman behind the reception, handpicked by William no doubt, and introduced herself. No, unfortunately, she didn’t have an appointment, but yes, she was sure Mr. Chang would see her anyway, when he heard that she was here. Emily sat down to wait, shifting her legs nervously, and needlessly straightening her hair again and again. It was depressing how, after all this time, the prospect of seeing William could still have this effect on her. Once upon a time the quivers in her stomach had come from being in love – a lifetime ago when she was young, naïve, and still a believer in such mythical illusion. It had been the perfect cliché really. Inexperienced and impressionable teenage girl courted and seduced by much older guest lecturing professor. Foolishly, foolishly, she had been completely entranced by his wit, knowledge, and charm and in equal measures flattered and shocked that he should show any interest in her. When he first asked Emily to stay behind after class to hear her opinion on a complex legal issue, she was swept away, and his subsequent dinner invitation had penetrated and defeated any anti-seduction shield defenses and traces of common sense she had left. They even shared the same surname. Emily had found it quite romantic at first, even though Changs were about 1300 a dozen in any Chinese speaking community. But at the University of Copenhagen it had still been a somewhat rare coincidence, and – she had thought then – a sign that they were destined to be together. Now it felt more like a curse she was stuck with despite the divorce – like wearing his brand even after he could no longer lay any claim to her. But back then, it had been different. Before she knew it, she had been married and pregnant with Jessica – despite her mother’s warnings, and possibly in a rare act of defiance against them. And that was when William had started to show his true nature. Even giving him every possible benefit of the doubt, Emily had once tested him to a near “perfect” 40 score on the Hare psychopathy scale. There were only three questions that gave her any reasonable doubt. With all the old money at his hands, it was difficult to say that he “led a parasitic lifestyle”, but Emily had no trouble believing that he would, if he needed to. Likewise, to Emily’s knowledge, he had never been caught or charged with any of his crimes, so the question about “revocation of a conditional release” was also most likely to be answered with an actual “no”, but in spirit she was certain that the answer would be affirmative. “Many short-term marital relationships” represented the final question mark. There had certainly been his marriage with Emily. The time before that was a black box he never talked about, and since the divorce…well he kept going on and on manically about wanting Emily back, but she suspected that was more about control than love, and in any event, even if he had a complete personality transplant, that was never going to happen. Besides, he was seeing Anni Nakayima now. This was the whole purpose of Emily’s visit here today. But in spirit she again felt convinced that the answer should be yes. And even if not a pure 40, he was still way up there in the dangerous parts of the scale. -0- William’s office hadn’t changed in the months since her last visit. His “please sit down” sounded more like a command than a courtesy, and Emily felt the intensity of his elevator stare almost as a physical violation as she complied. That part was a little bit of her own making she had to admit. If she wanted William to cooperate, she needed to throw him off balance, and the sleeveless, white Isaac Mizrahi dress was no weapon of coincidence. William had always been a leg man – or perhaps more accurately an “all parts of the female body but especially the legs”-man – and Emily had no qualms about wriggling into a short dress and showing off a bit of thigh for this meeting if it could give her a much-needed psychological advantage. Emily’s tactics looked to be working, as he told her how beautiful she was and then asked how he could be of help, although the inability to obtain eye contact with him was more than a little bit annoying. Nonetheless, she grabbed a small notebook from her clutch and started running through her list of questions. “Are you still seeing Anni Nakayima?” “Why do you want to know?” Typical William. He could never just come up with a simple answer. He needed to be in control. This time, however, it also looked as if he was hoping that the question had been triggered by jealousy. Emily sighed. He wished! But no, she wouldn’t be mudwrestling Anni Nakayima for William’s affection any time soon. “I need to speak with her son, Takuma.” “Takuma? Why do you want to speak with him?” Emily sighed again. This could take a while. And worst of all, William was clearly getting jealous. Okay, so Takuma Nakayima was reportedly very handsome and a notorious playboy, but what did William take her for? “It’s…business…” “What business?” For heaven’s sake. Emily rolled her eyes but realized that she would have to give him more if she wanted any answers. Either further details or see if she could yank up the dress another half inch or so. She decided to go the additional information route. “He’s a possible witness. I’m trying to find a missing girl, and from what I have gathered, he used to go out with her.” “Well…I’m not sure I can help you.” William folded his arms like a stubborn child refusing to eat his vegetables. Emily cursed silently. It was time to draw another weapon that had served her well before in their constant marital tug of war. “I…I see…” She cast her eyes down in defeat. “I had just hoped…” She let her voice trail off and wiped her hand swiftly across one eye. And waited. He had never been able to resist that. “You’re sure it really is business? Yes she was. It had made getting blood from a reluctant stone look easy, but she finally had Nakayima’s number. Now all that remained was a quick exit. “I’ll take you to lunch.” William said. It was a statement, not an invitation. “I Can’t…I…” Emily cursed herself for sounding so flustered. He didn’t control her life anymore and she had no reason to be afraid of him. But William’s eyes had assumed that familiar glow again. “Why? Are you seeing someone else perhaps? Another man? Is that why you are wearing that…dress?” William almost spat it out; fists clenched, knuckles pale white. “No…I’m not…I just…” “You just what?” William stared at her accusingly. Emily’s gaze dropped to the floor. She didn’t owe him any explanations. He didn’t hold any power over her. She didn’t have to be afraid of him. She was the Lady Cobra, Mistress of the Martial Arts for heaven’s sake. “I just… wore it…for you..” -0- Back in her car, she felt like slamming her head against the steering wheel repeatedly but was afraid it would make her be sick for real. How could she have made herself say that? How could she have sunken so low? But she had been so desperate to appease him. To stop the jealousy and rage she knew so well. Why couldn’t she just get over it and leave the irrational fear behind her? Was it never going to end? A psychological advantage…who was she kidding? Now she just wanted to get home. She needed to shower, change, and perhaps tear up the dress.

((The Lady Cobra felt she had several reasons to let this killer go.)) Sometimes, on nights like these, Emily wished she could just stay home like a normal person, with a good poetry book, a nice cup of peppermint tea, and a steaming bathtub waiting to lure her in with its olfactory sirens song composed from a mix of exotic salts and bath oils. Instead, here she was walking abandoned and worn-down streets and pavements, treacherous with layers of snow and hidden patches of ice, and in temperatures more becoming for a day of really bad weather at the North Pole. Emily hadn’t seen the crime scene photos herself, but she knew that Detective Carson had been on some pretty horrific cases in his time, and still there was no doubt this one had him riled up rather badly. He had called for help from the Lady Cobra for decoy operations before, but this was the first one where he had warned her and actually pleaded with her to be very, very careful. The Berserker had been profiled as most likely a misogynist alpha male with a severe vindictive, manipulative, and paranoid personality disorder, probably married or otherwise living with a partner, and with a high likelihood of domestic violence and/or psychological abuse prevalent in that relation. Emily had squirmed in her seat as Carson briefed her about the Unsub – many of these characteristics struck home more than a little too close for comfort thinking back on her own miserable marriage to William. Her ex-husband probably wasn’t the Berserker, but they seemed to share an alarming proportion of deviant personality traits. The Berserker was also thought to be of immense physical and combative power, having literally beaten all the four victims to his tally beyond the point of human recognition. Or so Carson had told her. It made Emily lament the fact that she was wearing a tight dress that could hinder her movements and heeled pumps that were very far from ideal on the slippery winter surfaces, but victimology was quite consistent when it came to the poor women’s’ clothing. Perhaps it was a required part of his trigger, who knew, but in any event it was a sacrifice of increased exposure and vulnerability that Emily had no option but to make. This was the third night in a row that the Lady Cobra was walking this potentially deadly route, and it was beginning to look as if it might also be the third night of nothing except the threat of hypothermia happening at all. She was so cold now, she could barely will her arms and legs to move, and all she could think of was that hot bathtub waiting at the end of her journey. Half an hour more and she was going to call it a night. Passing a mostly broken and overturned fence that had once surrounded an abandoned factory building, Emily finally came across a section of pavement that was nice and clean from snow. But as she stepped onto it, her foot slipped, and she realized with horror that it was one huge patch of pure black ice, offering no grip at all even under the best of circumstances, let alone for someone in heeled pumps. The blitz attack came from behind and with a force unlike anything she had ever felt before. Emily was knocked helplessly to the ground and slid across the ice, struggling for recovery and grip as the assailant came at her again, a heavy, metal coated boot stomping down on her back and a knuckleduster fist slamming into the arm, she was just able to raise to parry. Somehow, Emily came to her feet and went at him with all she had. Knees, elbows, the palm of her hands. He was stronger, much stronger than her, but the Lady Cobra was fast like few, and was actually driving him back. And then she slipped on the damn ice again. She realized now of course that it had been a trap, a veritable slide of black ice prepared by the Berserker to render his victim even further vulnerable and defenseless. Emily struggled to get up, but the ice was merciless. Again the metal boot trampled her and this time she wasn’t sure she could shake the devastating impact off. Her fingers searched the ground for the back-up alerting panic button device she had dropped when she first lost her footing, but it was nowhere to be found and this time she didn’t manage to parry the thundering blow from his fist. Her head snapped to the side, she tasted blood, and her eyes wouldn’t focus. There was nothing she could do when the Berserker came at her again. The three gunshots came in rapid succession. At first the dazed Emily thought that the alarm must have been triggered when she dropped it anyway, but then her blurred vision cleared just a little bit and she saw the diminutive form of the shooter. A woman, petite, strawberry blonde hair, alabaster skin, bruised and swollen lips and cheekbone. Emily still struggled against the ice and her injuries to get up. The Berserker’s head was blown away execution style. The woman had saved Emily’s life but killed the Berserker in cold blood. “He wouldn’t have stopped,” she said in a barely audible voice. “Was he…was he your husband?” Emily’s own voice was strained and even fainter than the shooter’s. The woman didn’t answer, just turned her back to Emily and the fallen assailant and started walking slowly away. Maybe Emily could have gotten up and gone after her, maybe she couldn’t. But her fingers had found the lost panic device on the ground next to her. Emily closed her eyes. It was probably best to wait five more minutes before triggering the alarm. In her probably concussed state, all she would be able to tell her back-up crew and Carson with any certainty was that the shooter had been above average height and weight and most definitely male.

((This is a story about one of Emily’s hobbies and passions – her collection of music from around the world.)) The Dark Wave tones of Hayaller? were coming through the door as Emily went down the steps to the bar, eager to find shelter from the icy wind nibbling at her earlobes. She loved that song and the band, but really hoped that the barkeeper’s choice of She Past Away was not some dark omen or prophecy regarding the outcome of her own dangerous mission scheduled for later that night. She was not going to fool herself. It was a very high-risk infiltration, and yes, she had to accept the possibility of the Lady Cobra’s demise as a possible outcome if things went awry. Emily scanned the room and the few patrons. Her contact was yet to appear. She ordered a lemonade and found a table and stool as the music changed to Sisters of Mercy. Some Kind of Stranger. Another of her favorites. She really was in for a musical treat today. Emily’s introduction to New Wave and a range of other traditional and alternative music variants had been thanks to her stepfather, Harald. It had been a difficult relation at first. The wounds from her father’s death had barely started to close, and her mother falling in love again and forcing a substitute father on her was something that young Emily had just not been ready for. As was the prospect of relocation to yet another new home country – the fourth in her young life already. So Harald could try all he wanted. Emily was not disposed to letting him in. And then one evening she had passed by his study as he was listening to music. For some unknown reason, she decided to stop. It was Siouxsie and the Banshees, she remembered, Rhapsody. The tones had been alluring and the lyrics spoke to her in ways she had never experienced before. It became a habit of hers to sit outside his study listening in, sometimes with a poetry book in her lap. One evening Harald came out, almost stumbling over her, and then he had asked her if she wanted to come in. That evening had marked the start of their bonding and a beautiful musical friendship. Harald’s collection of LPs and CDs was immense – well over 2.000 – and he had patiently introduced Emily to all corners of his musical empire and then allowed her to roam free within it. Sitting in the darkness with Harald’s headphones on became her new favorite pastime. She remembered crying softly to Script For A Jester’s Tear, as the sorrowful beauty of the lyrics dawned on her, just as she was feeling the sweet agony of having her first teenage crush and not knowing what to do with it. She remembered listening in awe to the compositions of Saturnus as new musical corridors were opened to her with I Long and Softly On The Path You Fade. And she remembered exploring the musical traditions of her own cultural places of origin – from her mother’s Thailand, listening to Loso’s red album for the first time, and from her father’s Hong Kong, the wonders of Wang Fei. Shaking off the teenage memories, Emily checked her watch and bit her lip. The contact was 30 minutes late. 32 to be precise. It made her think of the song by Carpark North. Rummaging through Harald’s collection had introduced her to a range of wonderful Danish music, she had never heard of before. Naïve, Janes Rejoice, Defilm, Love Shop, Hotel Hunger, the Poets, Panamah. The list went on an on. When her mother and stepfather had found it sufficiently safe in terms of the level of Ngo Damh aggression to relocate to Thailand, Harald had kindly left his LP and CD collection for Emily to keep as she made her way through law school. She had taken well care of it and made sure to supplement and expand it heavily ever since. Emily checked her watch again. Almost an hour now. No, the contact was not going to show. The Lady Cobra would have to handle the infiltration alone and without the vital inside information she had been counting on. She would have to rely on the hope that the contact had not been exposed somehow or decided to betray her. Theatre of Tragedy were playing as she got up to leave. The barkeep certainly had good taste in music, but If his selection of the day really was some forecast of how her mission was about to go, it seemed as if someone or something was trying hard to warn her to abort.

((When I saw this writing prompt, my first thought was of romantic rivalry. It made me try translating a scene from an existing story I wrote; I am not sure the translation works absolutely well, it might have been better just using Google, but I hope you will bear with me… The background is Emily having become somewhat attracted to a charismatic cryptozoologist investigating a spate of black dog sightings. True to her general track record of romantic misfortune, just as Emily was gathering the courage to respond to her budding feelings for him and open up a bit, Rei Mizuni showed up, and – in Emily’s perhaps not fully justified interpretation – did a full Tennessee Waltz on her, stealing her loved one away; and Emily is now struggling to deal with the emotional fallout at breakfast next morning.)) As I entered the restaurant, Tobias was busy foraging the buffet for his breakfast. It was just the two of us there. This would give us some much-needed privacy and – most importantly – Rei Mizuni would hopefully be nowhere near. I smiled as he gestured for me to join him at the table. Now I just had to make the most of this windfall opportunity. Above all else, it was critical not to let any hint of last night’s jealousy show. “Where did you go last night Emily? One moment we were all on the dancefloor and then suddenly you were gone.” “I decided to turn in early.” “A shame.” He gave his eyes a trademark hypnotizing swirl. Its customary effect on my knees made me glad I was already sitting down. “Well – you seemed quite preoccupied with Rei.” I cursed silently. This was certainly going well. I might as well have spray-painted my face green while pinning a JEALOUSY billboard to the wall. Tobias looked hurt. “It wasn’t as if that Archibald guy was giving anyone else a chance of getting near you anyway.” “Gah – don’t remind me. Dancing with him was a nightmare. His swinging was so wild. Especially to that reggaeton song - Gasolina. I thought he was going to dislocate my shoulder again.” I pretended to sigh at the recollection, but really it was from the little touch of a warm sensation I felt inside from knowing that Tobias had been watching me too and had felt annoyed with Archibald’s possessive demeanor apparently. He smiled sympathetically. “Poor you. He did seem a bit over the top. I noticed Rei doing everything she could to avoid dancing with him as well.” He broke off and bit his lip as if realizing that returning to Rei had not been the smartest conversational move. The sooner I could turn the subject of discussion away from her again the better. “She’s very beautiful,” I said. What? Was my own mind really this determined to betray me? What in heavens name had possessed me to say that? Luckily my legs were crossed or else I would have kicked myself violently under the table. “I guess.” Tobias squirmed in his seat. “Are you seeing her again today?” I appeared to have been completely consumed by the green Rei-envying monster inside, and to have lost any remaining traces of conversational free will in the process. Tobias glanced at his watch as if he would prefer to be somewhere else. Not that I could really blame him. “She wanted to see the location of the herdsman’s sighting with her own eyes.” He wisely avoided eye contact. I felt as if someone had stabbed me in the stomach with an icepick and was now enjoying himself twisting it around. “Are you taking her … there?” He nodded silently, and I stared at my hands, surprised at how they remained folded so calmly in my lap. At least one small part of my body was still loyal and not hell-bent on betraying any attempt to hide my feelings. So he was taking her to see the place of the latest sighting. Had I really thought that was our special thing together? Who had I been trying to fool? Hotspots for black dog sightings had to be the cryptozoological equivalent of inviting a girl home to see your stamp collection. Tobias glanced at his watch again. “I should probably be off. She … It’s …” He broke off and shrugged apologetically - perhaps unable to finish the sentence out of fear of hurting me even more. “Of course. Give Rei my regards. I hope you have fun.” I couldn’t look him in the eyes. When his departing footsteps had subsided, I finally dared to look up again, only to stare emptily at my plate. I took a sip of orange juice and studied the remains. Glass half empty, I thought, and wondered where I might get my hands on a collection of Rei Mizuni voodoo dolls.

((A defining meeting between the Lady Cobra and Rei Mizuni – it marked Emily’s first flirtation with the slippery slopes of vigilantism and may have inspired Rei’s interest in the costumed hero community such as her subsequent “friendship” with the enigmatic Avenging Angel.)) Each and every idol is nothing more than this. All the idols we once obsessed over have disappeared one by one. Who offended the heavens? (Wang Fei/Faye Wong – The Last Blossom) The meeting took place in Mizuni Tower. Emily Chang was dressed in her full blue, red, white, and golden Lady Cobra regalia and attracted some attention as she strode through the lobby. Despite the changes brought about since Rei Mizuni’s assumption of power, masks, tights, and capes were clearly still not an everyday sight at corporation headquarters. After presenting herself at the reception, she was led to a futuristic elevator. Almost before the doors had closed behind her, she was launched towards the penthouse with the acceleration and speed of a space shuttle. Exiting the elevator, further progress was blocked by a figure that would make André the Giant look diminutive in comparison. It had to be the legendary bodyguard, Mouse. For once Emily stood faced with an opponent she did not feel convinced she could take down. Eyes, throat, knees, or balls would probably be her best bets, she thought, but wouldn’t like having to chance on it. Fortunately, the giant was all gentle smile as he bowed and asked her to please follow him. Rei Mizuni was wearing a simple ivory dress with bare arms and high collar. Emily had seen glossy magazine pictures of her of course, but even the most beautiful ones did not do her actual justice. Normally, the ceremonial Lady Cobra costume gave Emily confidence, but now she felt more like a bag lady. The young CEO crossed the room like a prima ballerina and executed a perfect combination of a polite Japanese bow and a traditional Thai Waai. “Cobra-sama – it is most distinguished honor.” They exchanged courtesies for a while and spoke about their mothers. Emily’s, who still assumed the role of the Lady Cobra from time to time, had worked with the deadly Kumiko Nagasaki on occasion and it was their connection that had allowed Emily to arrange this meeting. Rei Mizuni directed her towards a beige sofa. A scent of peppermint rose from a steaming tea cup, and Emily had to wonder if it was just coincidence or if Rei had inquired about her preferences. The heiress sat down crossing her mannequin legs and Emily did her best to mirror the elegance of Rei’s movement and posture. “And now may I ask please, how I may be of most modest assistance for you?” Rei looked at Emily and smiled. “It’s somewhat….delicate.” Emily paused. “But you know about the new Chang Industries warehouse in Port Oakes?” Rei nodded and her eyes darkened a shade or two as she waited for Emily to continue. “William Chang is my…my ex-husband…” She had to pause again. “I must apologize to say…my impression about Chang-sama is of most unfavorable nature. He is most…how do you say…unscrupulous…business rival.” Rei Mizuni’s eyes were now pure obsidian. “I know…he…” Emily jabbed a fingernail into her arm painfully in the effort to forget the knot in her stomach and focus. It worked at least a little bit. “I think he is working with Ngo Damh. I think you know about them. My family have fought against this ruthless ang yee for generations. And now, according to our sources, they are trafficking girls to Port Oakes. Together with W-…together with my ex-husband and to that location. To help those girls, I need access to that warehouse and information about it.” “Of course, I see.” Rei nodded. “And it is how exactly that I may help?” “There’s a man…Sawat…he works for William and Ngo Damh. I need to…question him.” “I see…I think…” Rei shifted position on the sofa, her eyes still sizzling and dark. “There is a bar he frequents. The Black Hound. I have been working there these last nights as a waitress, to get close to him. I am sure he wants to take me to his private room upstairs, but it is hostile territory and a rough crowd, and I am not completely comfortable about my…um…exit strategy…” “I am familiar about this establishment. It is the favorite bar for Mouse and more of my men to go, I think.” Emily nodded. “I overheard Sawat and his friends talk about Mouse. They sounded terrified of him. So, what I was gathering the courage to ask you…” “You will like to bring Mouse for support, ne?” “It would be a tremendous relief to have him as back-up. And maybe…” “Yes?” “I was thinking that maybe Mouse could help…persuade…Sawat to answer my questions? The Lady Cobra does not have a lot of clout there. Mouse does. I wouldn’t normally…but…I must rescue these girls…some of them are just children.” Emily’s gaze dropped and fell to the floor. “It will be, needless to say, our most distinguished pleasure to help.” Rei Mizuni’s eyes were now flaming. “I will ask Mouse to bring, let me see…Makarov, Matsuda-san, Mbida, and Michel I think…as well, just to make sure the signal is clear, ne. In fact, when I come to think more about this, I rather believe I will fancy to visit that bar myself too. Do you wish we shall come already tonight?” Emily smiled gratefully, suddenly a lot less weighed down by trouble and worry. Yes please, she thought. Tonight would be perfect. Time was of the essence to rescue the girls, and she was anxious to leave the skimpy waitress disguise and the recurring MeToo moments following in its wake behind her. Khun Sawat could well be in for a very rough evening.

((While debatable whether there is any real threat of harm present in this account, it certainly represents a moment of sheer terror for poor Emily Chang during a mission at sea. Heavily inspired by a thrilling TV documentary on rogue waves)) ”But how can a freighter that big just disappear without a trace from one moment to the next? It makes no sense.” “Have you ever heard about rogue waves Ms. Chang?” Captain Swanson looked at me as if trying to search my soul. I didn’t like the strange glow in his eyes. “Rogue waves? I don’t understand.” I squirmed uncomfortably on the galley bench and pushed my plate further away. The raging storm outside and all this talk of waves was starting to make me feel seasick and lose the last traces of any semblance of appetite I had otherwise managed to muster. Swanson, however, seemed to be really enjoying himself as he continued. “For centuries, sailors and fishermen have been whispering in awe about colossal waves. Giants the size of cliff sides or five storey buildings haunting the seas. And for all that time, it was dismissed as just drunken seamen’s tales. Impossible. If anything at all, then maybe a freak occurrence every 10.000 years or so. And then came the New Year’s Eve wave.” Swanson paused, lapping up my obvious discomfort. “The New Year’s Eve wave?” Against my better judgement, I had nonetheless felt I had to ask, and find out what he was on about. Swanson’s eyes shone like those of a loving father reading goodnight fairytales to a long lost child. “New Year’s Eve 1995. The Draupner oil rig platform. Right here in the North Sea, less than 20 nautical miles from where we are now.” The shining glow in Swanson’s eyes had now evolved into a full blown fire. I tried to suppress a particularly nasty spell of nausea. Wherever this was going, I felt certain it wasn’t somewhere I was going to like. “It was a storm much like this one in fact; waves 35 to 40 ft. high,” Swanson continued, “the platform had a downwards pointing sensor high in the air. Suddenly, a giant wave of 84 ft. was picked up by the sensor.” “84 ft. – but that’s almost …” I gasped and glanced fearfully into the blackness beyond the galley porthole. “Almost 30 meters in your preferred world of measurements Ms. Chang,” he confirmed triumphantly, “the kind of wave they said could only happen once every 10.000 years. And yet there it was, and generated by a storm not much worse than this.” Outside, as if to provide further dramatic background to Swanson’s account, the already violent winds gathered further strength and launched into a chilling culminating scream worthy of the Nazgul in Lord of the Rings and having a similar effect on my nervous system. The smile on Swanson’s face, as he prepared to continue his tale, made me begin to seriously fear that the captain had gone mad. “Imagine a ship being hit by a wave like that Ms. Chang. Be that a ship like our modest one here or a huge freighter like the München. No matter what size the ship, it is not built to withstand the devastating power of a breaking wave like that, and there is no way it can just roll with it. The result, Ms. Chang, is inevitable. Instant and complete destruction. Vanishing without a trace. For all you know, a monster like that may by lurking out there right now. Coming towards us in the darkness and ready to strike without any warning or mercy.” Swanson was smiling in almost divine bliss. There could no longer be any doubt - the man was stark raving mad. Why in heavens name had I ever let myself be persuaded to sail out with him? The thought of a monstrous rogue wave out there, just waiting to crush the ship and send us to a watery grave, made me feel as if my soul had been ripped from my body and placed in the electric chair. I looked plaintively at Swanson, grasping for any hint of a comforting straw. “But surely, where we are now … it’s not as deep here as in other parts of the North Sea. Surely that must make the risk …” Swanson raised his hand eagerly to cut me off. The crazed smile on his face left no doubt that this was just the question he had been hoping for. “Worse, Ms. Chang. It makes it much, much worse. As you so correctly assert, the floor of the sea rises here. Rather than making things better, if a wave like that comes, this is exactly the place you don’t want to be. Say we really do have a nice 84 ft. rogue wave building and approaching out there from the darkness. Once all that water reaches more shallow depths, it will most likely rise even higher – the effect will be like a tsunami ravaging the coast.” I gulped. My nausea was reaching a level where I might no longer be able to suppress it. Swanson only seemed to revel ever more in the sight of me, the worse I felt. “There is one small measure of comfort though Ms. Chang.” “There is?” I looked up, eager to grasp at whatever tiny carrot of hope he was dangling in front of me. “Well Ms. Chang, if a wave like that really is coming towards us, I promise you, we most likely will never get to know what hit us.” I jumped up from the bench and darted towards the far wall. The waste bucket was just within kneeling reach as the few bites of beef stew I had managed to consume finally decided to leave me the same way they had come in.

((A story about the Lady Cobra and an online dating site.)) Emily Chang had never closely studied a dating site application form before. But the Lonely-hearts Fiend, as he had been dubbed, had an Asian fetish and at least three of his victims had been members of Madam Wong’s Heavenly Romance site, so it was time for the Lady Cobra to put herself out there as bait. As she scrolled over the various information boxes – some required, some voluntary – she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like, if she were actually joining the site in pursuit of romance or – dare she say – love. The temperature of her love life could challenge scientific consensus on the Absolute Zero. There had been no one before William, and after … well, it had taken a long time licking the wounds, and she was still not quite over the relational phantom limb pain. So, unless she was on a mission or patrol, evenings for her were spent in solitude reading romantic poetry and listening to Mong Gei Ta on repeat. For variance, she might alternate between the Teresa Teng and Shirley Kwan versions, but the underlying vibe of self-pitying loneliness was unmistakable. She had tried nightclubs a few times. But when she wasn’t on a mission or in disguise, it just didn’t work for her. As herself, she never knew what to say. So perhaps online dating would be the way to go for real. But first, she had to make sure that the Lonely-hearts Fiend was rendered harmless and caught. “Name” the box said. She pondered what to respond. Anything involving Emily or Chang was a no-go of course. She briefly considered Mary Tzu, but this was probably no occasion for jokes. Then, as another thought of her own depressing social life clouded her mind and she started yet another YouTube Mong Gei Ta, she smiled to herself and entered “Teresa Kwan”. She finished filling out the application and found a profile photo that would hopefully speak to the predator’s preference. Emily hit “submit application” and sighed, reaching for her current poetry book as another Mong Gei Ta started up. Now she could only wait and hope that the Fiend would take the bait.

((A brief story taking place a few years ago and involving Lady Cobra’s now ex-husband and one of his childhood originated crimes.)) William Chang had always enjoyed dabbling in poisons and sedatives. One of his earliest and most cherished childhood memories was of his nanny collecting mushrooms in the forest and fatally mistaking a death cap for one of its more edible varieties. He would never forget the fascination of discovering the deadly power hidden in such fragile and unlikely source. It triggered something new and powerful inside him. At the library, he sought out everything he could find about poisons in all their doses and forms. He gradually learned that they could not just be used to kill, but in the right form and dosage, also to weaken, control, and subdue any target subject of his wrath, envy, affection, or whichever other applicable emotion or impulse of the day. His first test run had been with Jonathan Bailey, whose sudden illness had ensured that William won the school spelling bee contest. Then there was lovely Becky Chu at the party. She was so grateful that William was there to help her and take her home when she became sick, but there had been just a bit too much vomiting going on for fun, and that was when his interest spread to also include the many other methods of control and sedation available. For all these years, he had learnt. Learnt and experimented. Not always satisfied with what could be found in the wild, on the streets, or from the many industrial products available, William had long since decided to supplement options with substances of his own creation, and – if he should say so himself – had become something of a master. And now he sat with a small flask of his most recent creation. A relatively fast working sedative with just a tiny streak of his own artificial Amanita- and shellfish-based substances mixed in. He estimated the effects would be triggered for real about 20 minutes after ingestion. Fatigue, weariness, dizziness, nausea, confusion, and just a light shortness of breath. Or so he thought – the actual effects remained to be seen. In any event, it seemed the perfect substance to test on his wife. She was out again, as usual. It really was quite unfathomable she would treat him like this. Yes, she was wearing her White Cobra costume, and yes she was supposedly out there rescuing people or fighting crime. But what about him? What about dedicating some time to her husband instead? And he had seen how other men looked at her. How was he to know that she didn’t return some of that third party affection in kind? Headlights coming up the driveway shook him from his thoughts and told him it was time to prepare his wife a cup of her beloved peppermint tea. -0- She was a creature of habit on mission nights. Always stripping away the mask, wanting to be hugged, and then the inevitable cup of tea before retiring upstairs to shower and change. This night had been no different, and she had gratefully gulped down the steaming tea with peppermint fragrance. And now she was in the shower. William checked his watch, eager to confirm or adjust his theories about effectiveness of his new creation. A sound of disturbance came from the bathroom as if someone had stumbled against the wall. William smiled and waited at the top of the stairs. Moments later, Emily emerged, her body wrapped in the custom white bathrobe with the trademark golden Cobra insignia. Her eyes were haunted and judging by her complexion she might have dipped her face in a bucket of chalk-dust. “W-William…I don’t feel so…” She staggered towards him, reaching out for support, and William extended his arms to catch her. But the catch became a forceful push, and Emily was sent tumbling down the stairs, ending up on the floor, dazed, gasping, and clutching her shoulder. “Darling you fell…I tried catching you, but…are you hurt?” William hurried downstairs to his fallen wife’s side using emotive skills picked up over the years to feign genuine empathy and concern. His wife moaned and looked at him plaintively. He had to concentrate hard to look worried. He wanted so badly to smile at his success. There was no risk she would remember the push. The tea and what he put in it would ensure that she would think it had just been fatigue and illness and that she had fallen down the stairs despite his efforts to save her. Overexertion from all those nights in costume he would suggest to her. Yes, he had every reason to congratulate himself. The way she was still clutching her shoulder it was surely at least dislocated and judging by the look in her eyes there might well be other injuries too. It would be days, maybe even weeks, before the White Cobra would be fit for the streets again. Now she would have some time for him and just him - whether she liked it or not.

I am completely addicted to playing “fancy dress” with my characters in the costume creator and at Icon. I think I currently have around 50 in-game versions of Lady Cobra and 4 of Rei, so they have a lot of different looks available, and with added color variations available from SG-mode too. For Lady Cobra, there are many variations of her heroic costume. She has one set of costumes based around a blue, red, white, golden color scheme like the Thai flag. Another set is pure white/golden to accommodate that some call her the White Cobra instead. Both sets exist in a variety of different versions, such as with/without mask, different types of boots/shoes/heel, different skirts, different tights/bare legs etc. etc. Sometimes she also dresses all in black/dark clothing for missions, so she has a number of different outfits for that as well. Then a lot of RP interactions actually take place in civilian/secret identity settings, so many costume slots are filled with various “normal” outfits, and again the variation options are practically endless even if outfit of the day is just centered around a basic idea like a black skirt. Many stories and missions may also involve some sort of disguise or perhaps going to an actual fancy dress party or masquerade, so I try to keep a few costume slots open for that as well. Typing this I realize that I must make some more Lady Cobras…! Rei may or may not have a costumed heroic alter ego but will vigorously deny any suggestions or allegations to that effect. All my other characters tend to have a mix of maybe one or two costumed hero or villain outfits and the rest some variation of street clothes.

((Rei Mizuni was originally a joke character named “Yakuza Girl” on the French server. She was my first MM, thugs/poison, and based on a “what if” concept of a teenage girl inheriting her father’s criminal business empire and trying to turn it legit. Also, she was to be driven by the values and honor codes predominant in many of the Hong Kong, Chinese, and Japanese action movies from the eighties and nineties, and her “voice” was based on some of the linguistic atrocities to be found in many English subtitles of those movies and the English language challenges of some of my family members (English is not my first language, so I am fully aware of being guilty of many mistakes as well…). The character grew on me, and I transferred her to Union, and had a lot of great interactions RP’ing her there, and now again on HC. This is a brief scene set shortly after her father’s demise.)) “I don’t think you get it. Your father and I had a very clear understanding…” “I am most perfectly aware about that…and now you shall find the new understanding with me.” Larry Chow felt like his eyes were doing a full Marty Feldman. How dare this insolent brat waltz in here, barely out of her school uniform and talk to him like that, Toshiro Mizuni’s daughter or not. “Listen young lady…” he started menacingly, but she cut him off. “I must apologize most respectfully, but the person, who should listen, it is you. I am quite…how do you say…adamant…about this position I have explained.” Larry could hardly believe he was hearing this. Did this bitch think she could just dress up in leather jacket, skirt and fancy boots and come to his warehouse and threaten him? This wasn’t the fucking Bugsy Malone movie with kids playing gangsters. What was she going to do next – wave a lollipop at him? “Look girl…out of respect for your late father, I am going to be nice and…” “And out of that same respect, and out of respect for you, I shall display the niceness as well…” As the Mizuni girl spoke, she had moved behind his desk, claiming his personal chair to sit in, elegantly crossing her black-clad legs in a display of arrogant confidence. Unbelievable, Larry thought. How stupid was this girl? Respect for Toshiro Mizuni was one thing, but this behavior was too much. He was going to have to teach her a lesson. Then he could always renegotiate terms in his favor with whatever was left of her. She really shouldn’t have come here alone. He clenched his fists, and the Mizuni girl’s eyes turned a shade darker. “I see you have most dangerous thoughts in your mind. Perhaps you are wonder, why do I come here alone. Why is Mouse not here, you think perhaps…” Larry nodded and smiled. “Matter of fact, I had thought about that. And warehouse accidents happen all the time. Mouse need never suspect…” He was preparing to launch himself at her, but his eyes were distracted by brief movement of the Mizuni girl’s gloved right hand, as if by accident brushing aside the black leather jacket and revealing the gun in her belt. Okay…the girl was packing. But did she even know or dare to use it? “Do you see…I could most easily have bring Mouse and make him to…how do you say…intimidate. But I come alone most deliberately. It is important you shall realize that I am more dangerous for you even than Mouse, ne.” There was something about the girl’s confidence. It couldn’t just all be for show, could it? Larry was strongly reconsidering the wisdom of jumping her. The girl smiled. “Now…I see you are more relaxed, ne. I see you understand now how Mizuni corporation will no longer…how do you say…condone…activities of that historical nature. I am most grateful you are in agreement with this…” “But…” “As I did say…I am most grateful you are agreed to my explained position. It is most generous understanding you have displayed. And I am sure on that basis we may now negotiate most mutually beneficial new arrangement. As a matter of the fact, I have asked already Ishida-san to prepare for you the new draft of contract you may read. She is head of legal division.” Larry Chow couldn’t remember ever being left speechless before, but he could only nod silently as Rei Mizuni rose from the chair, casually adjusting the black skirt into position. “And now you must please excuse me. I have in shortest moment most important teleconference. I hope you will spend a most pleasant evening.”

((Lady Cobra was inspired by actual historical Siamese/Thai war heroines, in particular a memorial statue I saw on a family visit to Kanchanaburi – the role of the Lady Cobra a legacy passed on from mother to daughter since the Thai/Burmese wars. This is a brief account of the very first Lady Cobra and her daughter.)) Somewhere near Ayutthaya, Siam 1766: “She’s ready for you now sir.” The general nodded and followed the younger officer to the village square where his men had gathered the locals. She lay on the ground motionless; patches of dust in her midnight black hair and smears of blood on the white clothing. As instructed, his men had planted a spear in the ground next to her as a symbol of their victory and of her defeat. The general proceeded towards the fallen woman. Occasional faint spasms revealed that she wasn’t quite dead yet, but the general had seen enough battle injuries to know that it was only a matter of time. He should have felt relief that the infamous Lady Cobra or the White Cobra or whatever the locals called her had finally been vanquished but looking at the frail and quivering mass at his feet it was hard to understand how this masked woman had succeeded in being such a thorn in their side. It was ironic, he thought, and no small anticlimax that, after eluding them for so long, it had been a treacherous piece of rock crumbling away under her foot that had brought about her demise. The fall from that height had surely broken just about every bone in her body, and she had landed practically at the feet of the elite unit hunting her. Fatally injured but somehow still alive. Of course they couldn’t let the locals know that she had been caught by accident, so his men had made a good effort afflicting additional wounds that made it look as if she had been defeated in battle. The masked woman’s body was raked by a series of further spasms. The general thought of kicking her. It was probably what his men expected, but it felt undignified somehow, to himself and to what he had to admit had been a worthy opponent. Instead, he knelt down next to her. Her eyes were still moving wearily behind the white mask, and he couldn’t tell if her lips were just quivering or if she was trying to say something. As he reached for the ashen face, her pupils dilated, but he wasn’t aiming to hurt her. He yanked the white mask from her eyes, making sure to smear it in blood from one of the stab wounds. With the mask held high in triumph, the general rose. “Let this be a lesson to all of you,” he said, and hung the bloodied mask from the tip of the spear. He turned his back to the cowering villagers and left the Lady Cobra and her faint remaining life force to expire under the scorching sun. -0- Hours later, a young woman knelt down next to the body, weeping silently as she gently closed her mother’s blindly staring eyes. She knew how to become one with the darkness and had found no trouble sneaking past the two sleepy guards. Rising, she grabbed the mask from the spear and carefully placed it over her eyes. With a final longing glance at her fallen mother, she vanished into the night. The enemy soldiers might think they had won, but she would make them learn bitterly that the Lady Cobra was back to haunt them.

((This is from Rei’s Swiss Alps boarding school days – a story about embarrassment, humiliation, and revenge.)) 16-year-old Rei Mizuni knew better than to show emotion or weakness in public. But she had never been cold like this before, and try as she might, there was just no way she could stop her body from trembling as she waited on the lonely bench. Matthieu was two hours late by now, and her skillfully applied makeup long ruined by the icy streams of water dripping from her snow-soaked hair. There had to be some kind of mistake or misunderstanding, or an accident perhaps? She prayed that nothing bad had happened to him. Normally she would give up and go home by now. But she wanted this party so badly. To dance with Matthieu and have fun and make friends with her classmates. Rei had never really understood why they didn’t like her. She tried to be friendly, helpful, generous, but nothing seemed to work. They were always polite to her face of course, but there was no mistaking the whispers, giggling and finger pointing going on behind her back. Worst of all were the English lessons. French had come easy to her like most things, but just like some kids struggled with reading, writing, or math, English grammar and syntax just seemed an impenetrable mystery to her, a murky porridge of words, tenses, and bending rules she was just unable to digest. She hated the knot in her stomach and the knowledge of the others biting their arms not to laugh whenever she was called upon to answer a question in class. Alone in her room, she dreamt of being popular like Clara and Matthieu, but for once, fulfilment of a wish was denied her. And then yesterday morning the unexpected had happened. Clara had approached Rei, sharing her screen with the latest Roberto J video playing on repeat. The whole morning, Clara graced Rei with her company. It was mostly Clara going on an on about how hot Roberto J was, and how she was sure that one day the teen heart-throb would fall madly in love with her. But Rei enjoyed the moment of confidence between them and even ended up revealing - against her better judgement, but it felt so good to say out loud and share, like it might actually come true - her own crush on Matthieu. Then – miracle of miracles – this morning Matthieu had placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her heartbeat with his smile, and asked if she would come with him to the party. Her mind-blown brain had somehow resumed functionality enough to let her confirm that indeed she would love to, and here she was, waiting. If only Matthieu hadn’t been so late. She heard footsteps and voices approaching from down the river path, and her heart trembled. Was it him? Bottles clanked together, and she saw now that it was not Matthieu but three young men from the village. Drunk. Rei averted her gaze as they came closer to the bench and…stopped. The biggest and bravest among them approached her, leaning into her personal space, and whispering something in her ear. She gasped at the indecency of his proposal. “Leave me alone please,” she said in perfect French. The man hesitated and Rei tensed. She had a taser, pepper spray, knuckledusters, 12 years of vigorous martial arts training, and an alarm and tracking device on speed dial to Mouse speaking in her favor if the men should decide to force the issue, but Mouse was at least ten minutes away, and perhaps sneaking out to elude the giant bodyguard hadn’t been too clever after all. “But your friends said you were looking for a good time?” The man looked more puzzled than threatening. “My friends?” “Back there – across the river.” “I don’t know who you mean, and in any event, I am not, so please leave me alone.” The men exchanged glances, considering their options. They taught her some new French cuss words but then resumed their drunken journey down the river path. From across the river, Rei heard giggling and then saw two figures emerging from behind a snow-covered bush and hurrying away. It was a full moon, so despite the distance, there was no mistaking Clara’s blonde tresses or the neon ski-jacket Matthieu was rarely seen without. Rei rose from the bench and started walking, holding her head high. She knew better than to show emotion in public. -0- Five days of merciless whispering, giggling, and finger-pointing behind her back later, Rei had survived another English lesson and stepped into the corridor, falling in line behind the new power couple Clara and Matthieu, who were holding hands. The class spilled out into the courtyard, and all fell silent, stopping dead in their tracks. Clara let go of Matthieu’s hand, her mouth gaping and giving her the appearance of a stunned potato cod. Rei smiled. In front of a white limo stood Roberto J with a generous bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his hands. As the classmates watched in astonishment, he rushed forward towards them, seeking out Rei. Mindful not to let the roses harm her, he took Rei in his arms, kissing her passionately. Arm in arm they walked to the limo. Roberto J held the door for her, and they drove off, Rei sneaking herself to one last look at Clara’s still gaping mouth. It was true what they said, she thought. Everyone had a price. Even Roberto J. Luckily, Mouse had known Roberto J’s security detail and had swiftly made the necessary arrangements. It had set her back an obscene amount, but the reactions from her classmates and Clara especially had been literally priceless, and it had been worth every CHF and penny. And just to top things off, Roberto J seemed like a really nice guy and genuinely interested in getting to know more about her. -0- Next day, her classmates were still whispering and pointing fingers behind her back, but there was no more giggling, and the whispering was not so much in spite as in awe. When she “accidentally” dropped the wad of backstage tickets to next week’s Roberto J concert in Verbier on the classroom floor, her dreams of being popular also rapidly became true. Too bad Matthieu had shown his true nature and turned out not to be the nice guy she thought he was. But then again, Rei thought as she checked her phone. Roberto J had just texted and asked her out to dinner. Perhaps Matthieu wouldn’t leave a too permanent dent in her heart after all.

((A short Lady Cobra “letter” story)) Whispering, morning keep the streets empty, for me The melancholic tones of Fever Ray formed a perfect backdrop as I drove through the night. As called for in the lyrics, nobody else had been foolish enough to venture into the blizzard infested claustrophobia and bottomless darkness of this endless December night. The streets were indeed kept empty for me as I carefully approached my final destination on winter tires struggling for grip on the icy roads. The letter had been brief. A time, an amount, and a place. And just after the coordinates, the inevitable warning. Come alone if you want to see your daughter alive, it had said. I was trying hard not to get my hopes up. There had been other letters like this of course. I had just about lost count of how many. Some were typed, some handwritten, some compiled from newspaper and magazine clippings. But the time, amount, place, and warning formula was pretty much always the same. And always, always it would turn out to be either a hoax, an extortion/robbery scam, a trap, or some combination of the three. So no, I shouldn’t dare to hope, but still I couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that this might be the one. After parking the SUV in hiding half a mile away, I made my way on foot back towards the designated rendezvous spot, dressed in black from head to toe. I was lucky to find the perfect observation vantage point and became one with the shadows, grateful that my hiding spot also offered at least some protection against the heavy snowfall and raging winds. Now, all I could do was wait. They came just over an hour later. I heard the engine first, and then headlights illuminated the pier. The car stopped next to a warehouse building and five black-clad figures emerged. I checked my watch. It was still 45 minutes before the scheduled meeting time, and by the sound of their confident laughter, they seemed convinced they were in good time. They continued joking for five more minutes and then four of them slipped into the shadows while the apparent leader remained leaning against the car. The four in hiding had brandished a variety of nasty looking clubs, and – I think – a baseball bat. So, it was a trap after all. I couldn’t know if they wanted to give me a beating or just to rob me of the ransom money, but it was probably best to assume the worst. I could have just driven home, I guess. But I was angry. Angry and hurt. I had to stop them from doing this to anyone else, and, reluctant as I was to admit it, part of me also wanted to hurt them like they had hurt – and planned to hurt – me. And finally, I couldn’t be absolutely certain that they didn’t know anything about Jessica. I couldn’t risk missing out on any clue to her whereabouts however faint or farfetched it might be. So I grabbed the baton from my belt and slipped from the shadows. It was better to strike while they still thought I was half an hour away. -0- A million tears, I want to cry, but I shield my face, and dry my eyes, swallowing my hurt, breaking inside. Trees of eternity and the hauntingly beautiful voice of Aleah Stanbridge accompanied me as I drove home through the night. I did want to cry. Not because of the bruises from the few lucky punches and strikes they had managed to land on me or the agony from a possibly bent rib. But from being stupid enough to have allowed myself to hope despite knowing how foolish and futile it was. Of course they knew nothing about Jessica and of course there would be more letters like this. More letters, more hopeless hope. Chances were I would never learn. When I was home and safe in bed the tears finally came. I wasn’t sure a million would suffice.

Most of my active RP characters have in common that they are street level or “slightly above” street level in terms of abilities and weaknesses and in terms of the plots, problems, and adversaries that they face. They also tend to face a lot of adversity and defeat. In my experience, the most memorable and rewarding RP moments often come from situations where things don’t go quite as planned and where the character has to deal with some form of defeat or other setback. My most active characters have some relation to the Lady Cobra/Rei Mizuni story “universe” from back on Live, so there is a noticeable overweight of characters from, or somehow related to, Thailand, Hong Kong/China, Japan, and certain surrounding countries. I also have multiple in-game versions of some of my main characters. This is mainly to enable Rei and Emily to indulge in their “fashion victim” whims and change between a range of different costume versions and civilian outfits. I tend not to attach too much IC importance to in-game powers and mechanics, so for instance Lady Cobra does not have incarnate powers IC, but of course she uses them happily “OOC” when on teams/missions. The Willpower secondary is thematically perfect for her as she is not supposed to have defensive superpowers as such other than extensive training and maybe a slightly enhanced physique, but for variation I have felt it could be justified within her concept to have e.g. Regen (the original back from Live) and SR secondary versions of her as well. For primaries, the original version from Live was MA, but now it is STJ. But she also has MA-, and certain other primary powerset versions that I felt would make sense for a martial arts character. For the avoidance of doubt, this is not in any way meant to represent any IC “metagaming” abilities, but just that her training may also have given her some limited experience of fighting also with a staff or other weaponry. Finally, my characters are predominantly female and of heroic/vigilante moral alignment. I have a few male “plot monkey” villains that can also be very fun to play from time to time.

((This is an introductory story about heiress Rei Mizuni and her somewhat alternative approach to romantic affiliations)) Display screen numbers started changing rapidly in response to the elevator’s descent from the penthouse towards the ground floor. Chris Case shifted his feet in what he self-diagnosed as slightly nervous anticipation. He had never done anything like this before, but the budget of an up-and-coming actor was tight, and the paycheck was just too good to pass on. Besides, it was a social escort job purely, so there was nothing unethical about it, or so he tried to convince himself. As the elevator reached the ground floor, he braced himself for what shock might meet him when the doors opened. Given the salary on offer, she would most likely reveal herself as something resembling a Devouring Earth and Failed Experiment hybrid on a bad hair day, but it was just for a few hours, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about his finances for the foreseeable future. The elevator doors opened, and the creature emerged. He gulped. She was…ravishing. The cerise dress went just above the knees and hugged her slender figure in what he could only describe as seductive elegance, accentuated by pumps in matching shade and a pink diamond necklace. She closed the distance between them, surprising him with a mix between a curtsy and a polite bow. “I am Rei, Mizuni Rei. It is my pleasure.” “But…you look…stunning…” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, or for that matter at all, but he was still struggling to recover from the surprise. “That is most generous compliment. But there is no reason you should pretend before we are arrived at the party.” “But…” A giant shadow towered up behind him. Chris turned cautiously and gulped again. The man was built like a mountain gorilla on steroids. The young heiress gestured towards the giant and smiled. “This is Mouse. He is in charge about my security.” Moments later they were in the backseat of an indigo Lexus. After some minutes of awkward silence, he braved the question nagging his mind. “Can I ask - why are you doing this? The whole escort arrangement I mean?” Dark eyes looked at him in apparent puzzlement. “It is obvious, I would think. I wish to…how do you say…portray…myself as romantically and socially eligible person for this event.” “But…there must be others. Real suitors?” He looked around cautiously, really hoping this wasn’t some kind of prank or candid camera. “There is Nakayima-san, I suppose.” She said it with the hint of a scowl reshaping her still exquisite features. “An ex-boyfriend?” “It is more like business rival.” “Oh - what is it you do exactly?” “I am CEO of Mizuni Holdings.” She paused and smiled proudly, “Perhaps you are aware already about this Zaibatsu group of companies?” “I…uh…don’t follow business much…” “I see.” She folded her arms across the chest and her eyes went from dark-brown to black. “Well it is quite understandable I suppose that you should not have this prior …how do you say…acquaintance. It is after all only most modest business conglomerate.” The rest of the journey went by in silence and with the young CEO’s eyes still moonlighting as black flamethrowers. Chris couldn’t help thinking that even the sulking became her. As the car pulled up in front of what was either a very big mansion or a medium-sized castle, she finally spoke again. “It is only required we shall make the brief appearance for them to see. Then you shall be…how do you say…relieved…from your duty.” The prospect of a swift party exit was sweet music to Chris’ ears. Getting his payment was one thing, but he figured that playing his cards right, he might be able to continue this tête-à-tête with the breathtaking heiress under more private circumstances, and who knew what that could lead to… The party went by in a rush, and it didn’t make much demand on his acting skills to feign affection for the Japanese beauty attached to his arm. Before he knew it, they were back in the Lexus and rapidly approaching the Mizuni Tower building where Rei’s penthouse was waiting. Now it was just a question of making his move. He took a deep breath… The soft tone of her voice lured him out of his reverie. “Pardon?” He looked at her quizzically, enjoying her smile. “As I did say, you have performed your role most admirably. Mouse will make sure the payment is…how do you say…augmented…with the most well-deserved tip.” “Uh…great, thank you…but listen…how do you say, if we…” “I must apologize about to interrupt you in my haste. But I have in shortest moment most important teleconference. I hope you will spend a most pleasant evening.” In a flash she was out of the car. Chris sighed. The whole evening had been surreal, so it was perhaps no wonder it ended in a Cinderella-style vanish. Unfortunately, there was no glass slipper left behind for him to keep, only the huge wad of cash presented to him by Mouse. He sighed again and could only hope that Rei Mizuni would soon have another party or charity event to attend and still be in need of an escort.

((This is a short introduction story about Lady Cobra. It touches on family relations but I guess it could have gone in "difficult situations" as well...)) ”Ms. Chang!” ”Ms. Chang!” An army of reporters had gathered, ready to pounce as soon as I exited the mall. How in heaven’s name had they found me here? And gotten here so fast? I guess the headscarf and sunglasses were a mistake. So much for the Lady Cobra being a mistress of disguise. The outfit probably made me stand out like a pork steak at a vegan society banquet. Someone must have called in a tip. “Can you confirm the headline from Bangkok Post?” “Are you the Lady Cobra?” “How do you respond to your husband’s allegations?” “Ex-husband…,” I mumbled wearily, mostly to myself, and tried turning my back to the barrage of questions pounding my ears and the camera flashes going off in my face and making me grateful I wore the sunglasses after all. I thought I had ticked all boxes in the “reasons to despise William” compendium, but this latest betrayal - exposing my secret identity to the public - was a new low even for him. And worst of all, in spite of all the hurt he caused, he had the audacity to claim he still loved me. With eyes cast down, I hurried towards my rental car - the battalion of reporters and paparazzi in hot pursuit behind me. “Will you go on being the Lady Cobra?” “Will you stop wearing your mask?” “Are you worried your enemies will come after you now?” Yes of course I was worried. What kind of stupid question was that? And I was fearful not just for myself but also for any other poor soul named Emily Chang out there. What if Ngo Damh or some other enemy wanted to get back at me but googled up someone else with the same name by mistake? I would never be able to forgive myself. Or William. Increasing my pace, I tried to focus on the rhythmic clicking of heels against pavement. I could see the sky-blue Volvo now. Just a few seconds more. “And what about your family? Are they in danger too? Why does your mother refuse to comment?” “And what about your daughter?” “Do you think Jessica is still alive?” I staggered as if taking a sucker punch to the soul. Jessica. How dare they ask about her? The world started closing in on me, making it difficult to breathe. Somehow I got moving again, fingers fumbling for car keys. Then finally I was inside the rental. Instinct took over. Seatbelt, brake pedal, start engine, reverse, drive off. I had no conscious mind doing this. All I could think about was to keep the swarm of eagerly prying cameras deprived of any chance to snap a picture of the Mistress of the Martial Arts with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Emily and Rei will be there too!

Hi all, I'm a bit late to the party and only just discovered these forums and that the game is back :-) Nice to see so many familiar names from the good old days - and it was a fun blast from the past to see two of my characters in the Picture from Knight Angel's 28 april post (Lady Cobra and Rei). Now I just need to get the game downloaded - I look forward to hopefully meeting many of you again in the game :-)