Misosazai- Origin Story + Conceit Tie-in

[chase]

The following was a background story for Misosazai I’d had sitting around, lacking a good event to drive her to full hero action.   Terminal’s “conceit” story arc gave me the inspiration on how to wrap it up and simultaneously tie her to those events.  

 

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Misosazai had sworn she’d never be back back in Kreig Tower, but here she was.  The once-prime real estate overlooking Perez Park, now a half-smoldering home to Hellion squatters.  At least she could tell herself that it wasn’t the same place as before- the area she and Ryk had called home had been torched, leaving nothing recognizable of her time there.

Next floor up, much of the same.  It was two more stories before there was any activity.  

 

The guard outside leered at her but let her pass.   She pulled the hellions vest tighter, regretting the choice of a bandeau and baggy jeans.   It was normally a versatile piece, letting her assume a number of gang colors without looking too layered- a helpful tactic when navigating the city without drawing attention but here, in this context, the vest practically hid it away, suggesting she was a bit more ready to party under that vest than the average reveler. 

 

Hellion “law” had little place for mercy or sentiment.  They encouraged infighting to weed out the weak.   Someone like her- small, even for a teen, would be convenient prey if not for the gang colors.  They were clearly too large for her, so that suggested she was under someone else’s protection.   They may still see her as vulnerable and want whatever she may be trading for that protection, but unless they were rash or high (imagine finding THAT in a hellions gang), they’d hesitate until they learned whose claim they may be infringing on.   

 

That should be enough time. 

 

Child and Family services had been heavily burdened when she and her brother entered the system, orphans of yet another Rikti raid.  They’d put the kids in separate placements, so she and Rik ran off, determined to stay together as the only family they had.  They were an odd pair- only two years apart, but while she’d inherited so many of her mother’s Asian features- small and lithe, Ryk’s teen years brought out their father’s side- a hulking build, swarthier skin, and facial hair that had other parents constantly challenge his age at martial arts tournaments he’d attend.  He was only two years her senior but could easily be passed off as her dad.

 

It was Ryk- obviously- that attracted the Hellions’ recruiters.  They’d been on the streets long enough that the promise of warm beds and food was enough to lure them in, and he’d already done worse than the initiation tasks they sought.  That was the price of keeping the family together.

 

She followed the noise and smoke to the core party.  The aroma was heavy with incense and burnt wood, but hints of toxic fumes from burning wiring, furniture, and Lord knows what else mixed with it.  She passed several revelers in the hall, doped up on who knows what or making out, most showing some recent injury or burn.  Hellion parties aren’t for the squeamish. Farther down the hall, wrathful roars and chants carried over the music, suggesting events that she’d rather not see or become a part of.

 

The smell evoked memories.   This floor had been vacant and dead silent the last time she visited it, but even then, the fires on the floor below had marked the air here.   She and Ryk stood at the now-shattered window to plan their next move.  One big score was all he needed to pay their way out of the city and leave this mess.  A run through the depths of the sewers to a forgotten Rikti War cache promised just that.

 

“If nothing else, we should be able to live large till we can find someone from the B13’s or the Phoenix Pride to let us crash there for a bit, or maybe one of the other hero groups.  A lot of heroes owed a lot to mom” he’d told her. 

 

“So where were they when she died?”

 

She hadn’t meant to, but she touched a raw nerve. Ryk had been at an out-of-state tournament when the attack happened, and it took a week for them to be reunited.   The city had grown efficient with mass-burials in the wake of the war, and with all the destruction during the raid there was no special attention given to the flattened grocery or the dojo above it.

 

“Where were you?” He fired back.

 

“She TOLD ME to run.”

 

“Funny time for you to start listening to her.”

 

That was their last exchange.  

 

She stayed up most of the night formulating the retort.  She may have inherited her mom’s looks, but her temperament clearly came from dad’s side, and she planned to go full latina crazy on her brother.   When he wasn’t back the next night, it had boiled up to needing its own new category- Latina psycho crazy just didn’t cut it.   When the third night ended without his return, the fury broke and she just wanted him back.  

 

On the fourth and no word on the sewer-raiders return, the more predatory Hellions moved on the now-unprotected girl.  They learned that her brother wasn’t the only tournament-capable fighter in the family.  All that pent-up Latina fury fueled a ruthless battle with nothing held back.  They may have learned a lesson, had they survived.

 

She hadn’t been back since.

 

Now she’d made her way to the dense crowd, hiding in her own obscurity.  She wasn’t able to penetrate the crowd and see, but she was getting a better understanding from the crowd’s response alone.

 

“Dizzy Mizzy!”

 

So much for being unrecognized. 

 

“Burner.”  Yes, a thoroughly unoriginal nickname for a hellion, but with a real name of Bernie, it was also an easy one to get- or Burner Bernie if you wanted to pick a fight.  She almost did- he DID use, “Dizzy mizzy” after all.  Instead, she kept it businesslike and said little.   Bernie hated awkward silence and would say anything to fill the void.  She may have just found her informant.

 

“I’d heard you’d run!  I mean, after Ryk, I didn’t blame you.”

 

She nodded in affirmation, but said nothing.

 

“If… if you need anything, you know I’m here.   Things are getting wild here pretty fast.”

 

Silence.

 

“I’ve got my own floor now- not an easy climb, but that makes intruders rare- and Shel.. Shel’s open to a lot of things.”

 

Of course this wasn’t an offer of true charity, it was a hookup attempt. Such a sweet gesture in the memory of his friend. She just stared past him.   

 

He grabbed her arm, “Look, once these guys learn you’ve got nobody backing those colors, they’ll take them from you- and they won’t stop with just the colors.”   His eyes suggested that he was still struggling on whether he’d leak that revelation to the others. 

 

She just continued to stare past him, but opened her senses to detect anyone else that may act on what they’re hearing.

 

“Shit, kid, they just sacrificed someone… like thirty feet away… among other things.  They’re already hungry for blood, and this is the start.  There’s shit you’ve got no clue about.  You’ll need friends to survive.”

 

He knew something, but she wasn’t interested in pursuing his definition of friendship to get it. 

 

“You were Ryk’s friend.  That didn’t help him survive.”

 

He dragged her toward the window, “Ryk? Ryk was great, kid- had a lot of promise, but his heart wasn’t in it.  I told him not to go running around the sewers with that crew, but they wanted the big score.   Shitheads wouldn’t listen that the REALLY big score was coming to those who waited.  Now it’s here.” 

 

“Look out there!  It’s an ARMY- our numbers have surged by the hundreds. Pyroclast’s got the track on real sources of power- shit that makes those guns in the sewers look like chump change, and he’s shared that with the GENERALS of his army.”  He pulled out a crumpled note and waved it in her face like it was some sort of trophy, “That’s right, Burner Bernie’s no joke now, kid. I’ve moved up.  We’re going to war. We’re burning this whole place down, and we’re bringing hell to earth, baby.

 

“So, let’s give everybody here a good understanding of who’s protecting you and then get you somewhere safe before the real fun begins.”

 

As power-drunk as he was, It was pretty clear that a peck on the cheek wasn’t what he had in mind.  Not that it mattered- she’d have turned even that down.   Instead, a quick twist broke his grip, a painful finger hold brought his chin down to optimal range, and a perfectly timed knee met his throat once it did.   As he flailed back into the crowd, she tore the note from his hand- an impulse- she wasn’t sure why.

 

Bernie was having trouble rasping out orders, but his team got the message.  Suddenly leaping through broken glass more than five stories up became the most appealing exit.  She remained mindful to stay close enough to the building so the occasional brush could slow her descent.  Even with her training, a fall from this height could be deadly.   When she hit the ground she sprinted toward the Perez gates, turned a corner, then dropped into a pre-arranged hideout behind some rubbish.

 

It took a while for the pounding in her ears to diminish and calm herself enough to assess the situation.  The Hellion armies were already on the move- from every direction she heard explosions gunfire, and cries of terror from people not as prepared as she was for personal defense.   There were some signs of resistance, but not nearly the presence that she’d come to expect from the city.  How big was this, if they’re this scattered about?  Where were the heroes?

 

Her brother’s words echoed in her mind “Where were you?”

 

Her cheeks burned with rage- at her brother, at the hellions... at herself.  She wasn't going to run this time.

 

The hellions vest was the last thing Misosazai had of Ryk’s… or to any of her family.  She slipped it off and tossed it onto the rubbish.  She didn’t need it.  She had a feeling she’d be seeing all of them soon enough.

 

With that, Misosazai headed off toward the nearest signs of resistance.

Edited July 3, 2020 by chase

[chase]

About Misosazai

 

Misosazai is the a martial arts/ninjitsu scrapper.   She’d have been a stalker, but the Stalker martial arts trades out some of the flashier moves that seemed so appropriate for her, so the presence pool serves as a substitute.  Most of her costumes are intended to resemble various foe factions with the hope that she’d slip by cursory notice.

In-game bio:

Veteran heroes of Paragon may recall Kirasu Ward- she ran a dojo providing self-defense training for civilians and heroes alike. If so, they remeber her daughter- a permanent fixture in the dojo since she was in diapers- a tiny frenzy of kicking, spinning, and grandstanding acrobatics rebelling against all her mother's lectures to tone it down.

"Be Misosazai. present, but unnoticed. Don't draw attention to yourself."

Misosazai. japanese for wren. Few ever heard her called by her real name, just some variation of that ("dizzy mizzy," was popular after a few frenzied moves left her too stunned to stand. )

Kirasu and family were lost in a Rikti bombing but there have been unconfirmed reports of someone resembling her battling gangs through the city.  

-hates the nickname "dizzy mizzy."

-looks like her mom.

-unregistered hero/vigilante.

-brother Ryk also MIA.

 

Visual Reference:

Will upload a few soon, but Misosazai is a reimagining of Shandora Ward, an old character from my comics:
http://patternsinthestatic.blogspot.com/search/label/Shandora Ward