The Regenerator

[Deleted]

The ivory keys of the grand piano had experienced the efforts of countless musicians throughout its existence, but none more talented or expressive as those displayed by Melissa Martin. Her pale fingers caressed the keys lightly, eliciting a somber sound that tugged at the heart of all who heard it. Unfortunately, since the bar was practically empty that number was considerably less than was deserved.

Michael Martin, despite being only twenty years old, had a fairly steady position working as a handy man around Finnegans Wake, an Irish pub that had been operating since Jump City was first founded. It was old, and it showed that age on the worn floors and outdated light fixtures. That being said, the acoustics were fantastic and the owner was an old friend of the family. That was the reason he had first let Melissa play her music at his establishment, but it wasn’t the reason he let her keep playing. She had a gift, one that anyone could see plainly enough. Her voice could cut through the din of boisterous pub conversations and compel anyone in the room to stop and take notice.

She had a powerful performance, and one that opened the aging pub up to a brand new demographic of patrons. A demographic that unfortunately didn’t tend to come out until the weekends.

So it was, after setting having finished lugging a large box of lemons from the basement to the main floor that Michael Martin found the time to lean against one of the mahogany stool and watch his sister play. He could afford a moment to enjoy life for a moment. Despite the fact that one of the more vicious members of the Irish mob was petitioning to have him become a lackey, despite the fact that he was barely making enough money to pay for his sisters education, when Melissa played it stripped the worry from his heart for a few minutes. It gave him hope, and it was the only treasure his kind were ever meant to possess. His blue eyes closed as he leaned backwards, his old white t-shirt tugging against his frame as he let the music carry him away to happier times. The curtain would rise on a scene of fond familiarity, of the childish antics of youth, only to be pulled shut once again least less tender moments be dredged up from the recess’ of his mind, and in their resurfacing, tear anew wounds that had long since been bandaged in his youth.


In this state of semi reflection he failed to hear the door open, but the sudden end to the music brought him back to reality in time for him to hear the heavy footsteps behind him. Michael learned a long time to identify people by the way they walked. It was an easy trick to do if you had the time and inclination to learn. There was a certain clacking sound that accompanied the heavy footfalls, a trademark sound of McNabbs more trusted enforcers. McNabb had been trying in less than subtle ways to force Michael into his employ. It was a tactic meant to generate a level of legitimacy to the other members of the Irish mob. Unfortunately, the more Michael declined the offer, the more violent the mobsters tactics became. The last time Michaels brothers had ended up taking the fall for one of McNabbs botched armed hijackings. Who knew what the old man was going to try and take from him next.

[Gaunt]

Gaunt didn't go to pubs much. Few bars catered to his kind, and those were usually pretty exclusive joints. Back home he could only go to places like that, and a few weird clubs, but this was Jump City. He was in Freak Central here, surrounded by aliens, cyborgs, mutants, and assorted other oddities. No matter how much he looked like Count Orlock, he wouldn't stand out too much here. Now the barkeep might get fussy about him not ordering anything, but that he could deal with. Freaky-looking supers didn't get too much grief from civvies.

Some girl was playing a piano when he got there. Gaunt stayed invisible as he stepped inside, close behind two large men. They looked like they were there to cause trouble, but at least they weren't making a scene yet. Gaunt brushed between them, turning visible in a puff of illusory smoke. The men froze for a moment, confused and startled by the bony monster that had just appeared between them. At least he'd have a few seconds to talk to the kid before these two made a ruckus and ruined everything.

The good news was Gaunt located the kid pretty quickly. The bad news was that the two big lunks were headed his way too. Gaunt had a head start, but that wouldn't buy him much time. He used his scrawny build to his advantage, slipping between people and closing the distance. "Mike Martin, right?" He matched the file photo. It was hard getting any info on a lot of these underground supers, but Rat's Nest was good at information. It was their main thing. "My name's Mr. Gaunt, I run a local group of supers. You interested in a better-paying job than this?" Maybe damned by faint praise there, but he didn't want to oversell things.

[Deleted]

Michael turned to see the duo approaching him. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he was due another round of threats. He was prepared for harsh language. He was prepared for a brow beating or a brawl. He wasn’t prepared for a Nosferatu wannabe appearing, in a literal plume of smoke, from between the two men. In fact, no one was prepared for that. The two enforcers froze in mid stride, the piano music stopped, and Michael for the first time in a long while was left speechless. There was a lot of strange people in Jump City. There were aliens, magical demons, and a large assortment of what could only be described as freaks populating the area. Everyone should have been used to these kinds of spectacular entrances.

Before anyone could respond the man approached Michael and began to speak. Naturally, he had come work as a recruiter. Another offer work with a group. Unlike the men working for McNabb, Mr. Gaunt was an unknown quantity. Michael couldn’t say what he represented, he didn’t know what kind of work his would be employer had to offer. What he did know, was that if he accepted Mr. Gaunts offer in front of McNabbs enforcers, it would be seen as a direct insult, and would likely lead to McNabb reacting violently.

Michael couldn’t afford a direct confrontation. Not yet. He needed time to finalize his plan to break his brothers out of prison. To get the equipment necessary. Mr. Gaunt would have been wiser to wait to make this offer when there weren’t as many ears listening, but it wouldn’t have increased his chances. The Martins cherished the independence and liberty of their family, even at the expense of personal safety. He couldn’t accept Mr. Gaunts proposal without first knowing more about what it entailed.

”I’m sorry Mr. Gaunt, I’m afraid you may have wasted a trip coming down here.” began Michael as he made his way behind the bar. He grabbed a mug from beneath the counter, his fingers grazing the sawn off shotgun hidden there briefly before he began to polish the mug. ”I work independently Mr. Gaunt. Just ask the men behind you.” he continued, speaking loud enough for the pair of enforcers to hear.

”You know that sentimentality is beginning to get old Mikey,” replied one of the enforcers. He was a large man more at home in old detective novels than the modern world. He had a square jaw, a terrible haircut and surprisingly verbose vocabulary for someone whose skillset included breaking knees. But that’s what happens when your first career is as a high school English teacher.
”You got one last chance,” he continued ”You can sign up with us, Mr. McNabb will see what he can do about your brothers. Or you can turn your back on his gracious offer, and Mr. McNabb will still see what can be done about your brothers. Unlike some people in this neighborhood, Mr. McNabb looks out for his own.”

To someone unaccustomed to this neck of the woods the comment might have seemed fairly innocuous, but Michael had grown up on these streets and heard the veiled threat loud and clear. Join up, or his family would pay the price.

[Gaunt]

This was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least. The kid was nonchalant about the whole thing, casually and quietly turning down the offer. He went about business as usual, going back to clean up a bit, but Gaunt could see some tension. He'd been in high-stakes work long enough to recognize that sort of thing. Something was bugging the kid. Probably the two big palookas that had come in with Gaunt, if his next comment was any indication. Gaunt turned, looking up at the men. The vampire was far from short, but it seemed like their boss had gone the "strong dumb giant" route when hiring them. Kind of like the Titans had a while back.

One of them was a bit more well-spoken than Gaunt expected. A fair bit more well-spoken than Mr. Gaunt, too. The Nosferatu didn't know talking good, so his vocabulistics were somewhat limited. He could recognize a threat well enough, though. This cloak and dagger stuff was his wheelhouse, they weren't going to slip it past him. "Now, that's not smart, is it? I know from experience that press-ganging help is a bad idea, and trying that with supers is just bloody stupid." Gaunt started to reach for a cigarette but stopped himself. Couldn't smoke in any semi-reputable business in California these days, it was a bit frustrating for him. Not like he could get sick, anyway. "Sooner or later they get loose and it all just backfires. Trust me, not nearly worth the trouble."

Gaunt folded his arms, standing between the men and the barkeep. Gaunt didn't intend to start trouble, but if these two did he was ready to end it. These two weren't showing signs of any powers, but that was no guarantee. There was a decent chance that they'd send powered bruisers to threaten a powered kid, so he'd have to be careful.

[Deleted]

"Trouble?" replied the man, a tone of incredulous superiority tinging his question. "Nah, trust me freak, its no trouble at all," the man paused a moment to leer at Melissa Martin, who was still watching the conversation from her seat at the grand piano. "Mr. McNabb is going to be very disappointed in you Mikey. Its too bad you can't see an opportunity when its right in front of your smug little face," Whether or not the enforcer had simply realized that his recruitment offer was in vain, or he had lost his nerve when confronted by the strange Mr. Gaunt was beyond Michael's reasoning, but the effects were the same. With a surprising level of coordination for a man so large the enforcer turned executed a smart looking about face, and headed out the door, his companion following closely behind him.


"I'm sorry you had to see that Mr. Gaunt. People in this neighborhood have a loose understanding of tact. Can I get you a drink. Its on the house." stated Michael politely. His expression was nothing but professional, but behind those blue eyes his mind was racing. Things were quickly spiraling out of control. He needed at least another month to get the funding and supplies necessary to even attempt breaking his brothers out of Belle Reve. Now, with McNabb finally pressing the issue his timetable had been moved forward to a degree that was likely going result in Michael making catastrophic mistakes. There were two things he knew for certain. The first was that he could never work for McNabb. His family honor demanded that much. the second was that he had to get his brothers free or at least somewhere beyond the reach of McNabbs money and influence.

the last part was easier said than done. The reason his brothers had ended up imprisoned in Belle Reve was because of McNabbs string pulling. Despite being in a penitentiary they were little more than hostages. Hostages that had now become expendable.


"You said you ran a group of supers?" began Michael nonchalantly. "What exactly does this organization of yours do? And what exactly compelled you to make me an offer. I don't recall putting in an application." asked Michael, a friendly smile spreading across his features as he ended the inquiry with the dry witticism that had become his standard. Maybe Mr. Gaunt was just blowing smoke, but Michael doubted it. The fact that the strange man even knew he was a super, despite Michael keeping that information very close to the chest, indicated he some effective capabilities in terms of intelligence gathering. That alone earned Mr. gaunt a few more minutes of Michael's increasingly finite time.

[Gaunt]

Surprisingly, the mooks went on their merry way. Gaunt had been expecting the two big bruisers to at least get a little rowdy. They'd looked like they were there to start gremplork, after all. Yet there they were, leaving without throwing a single punch. Gaunt was almost disappointed. It wasn't often he got to flaunt his strength a bit in front of the normals, and showing off could be fun if you could get away with it.

Gaunt waved off the offer of a drink. "Can't now, on the clock." At least he had a good excuse now. In social situations, this could get a little harder to skirt around. Then he might have had to fall back to Bela Lugosi lines, and he didn't want to be that cliche. Unlike some of his kind, Gaunt hated dropping hints as to what he really was. He looked like the title character of Nosferatu, so it wasn't like people needed too many hints to recognize what he was. The only thing keeping him from being called out as a vampire was the fact that so many people still thought his kind didn't exist.

Now that the grunts were gone, Mike was full of questions. Gaunt pulled up a seat, more than happy to answer. "Rat's Nest does mostly covert work. Acquisitions, discreet research, things like that. A few flashier jobs on occasion." He fidgeted with his pack of cigarettes, wishing he could light up in here. How did an addiction stick around after death like that? "We're not the kind of group that puts an ad out. We keep an ear to the ground, and I give offers to promising supers. If everything checks out and you pass an audition, you're one of us." The lanky super hopped back to his feet, returning his pack to his pocket. "But if you're not interested, I can mosey on."

[Deleted]

Admittedly, from the looks of the odd man on the other side of the bar Michael wouldn't have guessed him as the type to put particularly high value on issues that were so, malum prohibitum. Not drinking while on the job was a statute created by those who assumed alcohol with synonymous with incompetence and consequently determined that drinking while on duty was wrong. Perhaps Mr. Gaunt was one who maintained a similar sentiment. It was more acceptable than having to believe the man would be so easily controlled by social norms. So Michael decided to pour himself a drink instead. Just a small one. Two fingers of Paddy;s Irish Whisky that filled the bottom of the glass with a transparent amber liquid and filled his nostrils with the faintest hint of vanilla.

"I must admit covert work seems a bit beyond my experience. Don't get me wrong, I've grown accustom to being invisible, but that's by virtue of my social standing and not unique ability Mr. Gaunt." replied Michael casually as he sipped the drink from his glass. "If you think I can be of use to your organization I'd be honored to enlist, but I won't make promises I can't keep," he lied. [/b]"You clearly think I have something or worth and for that I'm obliged to pass the audition of yours, but I'm afraid at this juncture I might be bringing more trouble to this Rats Nest of yours than would be appropriate. Those two no neck bruisers that were just in here work for a man that has my brothers locked up in Belle Reve. He also has a number of men locked up in there with them that would be more than willing to spill my family's blood. If you catch my meaning. As long as that amount of leverage is hanging over my head I won't be of much use. I'm not going to bother asking how much I stand to make monetarily should I succeed in joining your group, all I ask, is that should I pass your audition, my first task within the Rats Nest be to acquire something of immense value to myself. The freedom and safety of my family."/

It was a desperate measure to be sure. Michael hated to air his family's dirty laundry but it was a necessary discomfort. He needed the resources of another organization. Though he didn't know much about Rats Nest the fact that it had this kind of information on him already implied some level of competence and connections, the latter of which Michael was going to need desperately.

[Gaunt]

Apparently this bar didn't mind the staff helping themselves while on duty. For his part, Gaunt didn't mind his crew drinking a bit, so long as they could stay completely functional. The second their skills started to slip, he'd drop the hammer. So far, it hadn't been a problem. Gaunt made the rules pretty clear, and he was intimidating enough that nobody really wanted to question them. Most of his employees knew what he was, and what he could do. None of them wanted to get on the bad side of the vampire who could turn invisible and carry cars around.

"It's not all covert, sometimes we need overt. I've done a few heavy jobs myself." The circles they usually ran in didn't like to talk much, especially about their embarrassing defeats. It helped him stay in the shadows even when there was some heavy hitting that needed done. And right now, Gaunt was his branch's heaviest hitter. He didn't like the idea of being the only one who could stand a straight-up fight. "I'll be honest with you, we need more overt people right now. People who can hold their own in a fight. If what I've heard is true, you seem to fit the bill." Gaunt sat at the bar, flicking his lighter as he talked.

Well, it seemed Mikey was in quite a pickle. Gaunt mulled it over a bit. "That's a lot you're asking, kid." he said with a sigh. "You're asking us to go up against one of the mobs in this town, and break someone out of one of the, if not the most secure prison in the world." The vampire shook his head, considering his options. That alone would get them way too much heat, with both the crooks and the cops. Their organization would be crushed on both fronts. "I got contacts. I can try to arrange to get him transferred or paroled, but a breakout ain't feasible. That place is meant to hold supers, including one with super friends on the outside. It's ready for an attack by the likes of us." The legal-ish option would be difficult and mean calling in a lot of favors, but it would be better than the alternative. All things considered, he'd rather have the extra backup without angering the feds in the process.

[Deleted]

The piano in the back of the room picked back up, a light melody that floated in the background of the conversation but provided a bit more privacy than the otherwise quiet pub. Michael saw the potential benefits that joining a group like Rats Nest offered a man in his dire position, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. He had to ask for a lot right up front, so at the very least he needed to demonstrate his resolve and confidence at being a worthy addition.

”Overt I can do. Strong arms jobs, extortion rackets, clearing out undesirables. That isn’t issue and the risks are decidedly less for someone that can recover from gunshots and broken bones in s short period of time. Not to mention the fact that as far as a return on investment is concerned, you don’t have to worry about me kicking the bucket before you’ve made a profit of me.” remarked Michael as he polished off the drink and began cleaning the glass.

”I know it’s a tall order, that’s why I wanted to make you aware of it before this went any further. That being said, your assumptions are only partially right. Rats Nest won’t be going up against the mobs. I have no intention of letting this devolve into a gang war. Once my brothers are freed McNabb will lose his leverage. He can’t kill us Martins in the open streets, not without losing the support of the rest of Irish mob. Its bad form ya see. Once my brothers are freed from Belle Reve I can get them out of the country and somewhere beyond his reach McNabb will have to back down. The only card he has are my brothers and plausible deniability.” continued Michael as he sat the newly cleaned glass back on the rack with the rest.

”That just leaves us the task of getting them free. I won’t ask you to risk any of your members for this, but a little information and some supplies will go a long way. Belle Reve is designed to keep supers in and their friends out. They are expecting the brute force approach. They are expecting to be able to rely on the Titans for support. If everything goes the way I have planned we will be out the door before anyone realizes what’s happening. Belle Reve is a dangerous place because it has contingency plans and standard operating procedures. But it’s run by the same vanilla humans as anywhere else. They can be coerced, their security systems can be fooled, and outside support can be distracted long enough to give us a window of opportunity to make a break for it.”

”Besides,” added Michael with a cheeky grin, ”What better way to demonstrate my worth than taking on a job like this. If you can’t trust me to earn my keep after that I don’t know what could convince you.” Michael let the words hang in the air, giving Mr. Gaunt a chance to mull over his options. The reputation of Rats Nest wouldn’t be risked if Michael failed since the boy wasn’t yet a member. But if he succeeded, even though there would be no legal ramifications for the group it would go a long way to earning them a respected place among the rest of the villains, not just in the city but on this side of the continent. Not to mention the fact that if Michael was going into Belle Reve, there was the chance he could free other imprisoned supers that would owe Rats Nest a great deal once they earned their freedom. It was a risky venture to be sure, but considering the amount of investment, it had the potential to pay off in very big ways.

[Gaunt]

At least he wasn't shy about strongarm work. Gaunt was actually a little impressed at the list he rattled off. If he had experience with those, then he certainly brought something to the table. Not to mention his healing abilities. Gaunt had some of his own, but his were more conditional. Besides, he didn't like to reveal he could be hurt at all. He was better as a mysterious, untouchable figure. "I don't wear my people til they break, unless I got no other choice. Still, good to know."

Gaunt sighed, fidgeting faster with his lighter. The kid either wasn't getting it, or wasn't really taking no for an answer. "Alright, no. It's still no." He pocketed the lighter, holding up a hand to signal a stop. "Even if McNabb can't make a move, that still draws law enforcement. We don't need heat from the feds, especially with Belle Reve involved." Gaunt had started his career more recklessly, but he'd seen the risks of that. He'd lost some good people that way, and it had taken a long time to recover his position with the Rats. He was cautious now, and he wasn't going to risk all his gains on this one recruit.

The kid's plan seemed elaborate, but the details were vague. Gaunt wasn't sure if he was just playing his cards close to his chest or if he genuinely had no idea what he was doing. "Have you ever done a jailbreak before? Even at a regular prison?" Gaunt hadn't, personally. He'd done rescue ops before, but never from places that had official legal support. Those had been risky enough. "Look, I can pull some legal strings, I know people. But if you're set on re-enacting The Great Escape, you should probably remember how that movie ended." Gaunt leaned forward on the bar, looking him in the eye. "Jailbreak, or join us. It's one or the other."

[Deleted]

The offer hung in the air, and thats where it stayed. Mr. Gaunt wasn't an idiot, and while he had most likely made a few gambles in the past knew when the odds weren't in his favor. Michael did too. The difference between them, was that Mr. Gaunt could walk away from this course of action without losing anything. Michael had no such luxury. No matter the bet, when you had next to nothing, you had to bet all your chips. Regardless of the odds. Michael's blue eyes watched the other man with what was at first hope, and then visible disappointment.

It was clear that Mr. Gaunt wasn't going to help in the manner that Michael needed by his body language, but just to make sure Michael didn't miss anything he laid out the terms plainly. Normally Michael would have appreciated that, but today the impact of the bad news couldn't be mitigated by the manner in which it was delivered. The pleasant look on Michael's feature's grew colder as Mr. Gaunt began to poke holes in his plans. His concerns were valid, his questions warranted, but Michael wasn't willing to hear contrary opinions. His course had already been set, now it was a matter of seeing it through.

"No," admitted Michael tersely in response to the question of whether or not he had ever broken people out of a prison before. He had gone his whole life being told what he couldn't do. What was beyond his abilities. He had spent his entire life proving people wrong.

"I'm sorry, but my brothers don't have that kind of time." replied Michael finally. "Looks like you've wasted a trip. At any rate, you won't need to use your organization to see if my plan worked out. You can just check the papers."

[Gaunt]

That wasn't a good sign. Gaunt could understand where the kid was coming from. His family had the good fortune of not getting on the bad side of a mob boss, but if they were in trouble he'd still have to go help. Even if it meant letting them know that he was still... not alive, but at least out and about. The kid was taking one hell of a risk too, and without any experience to back him up. And, it seemed, without any other backup of any kind.

Gaunt sighed, standing. "Guess I have, guess I have." He paused a moment before leaving. "Look, some advice; maybe go along with McNabb a bit, until you got a better plan than this. Hostage situations ain't something you can afford to half-ass. String him along til you got it together enough to whole-ass this." He made his way to the door, turning back to wave before calling on his powers. Gaunt flickered like a mirage before vanishing from sight, turning invisible in the doorway.

Another dead end. This was disappointing, but not surprising. It was just something about this city, all the supers were super young. Back in L.A., Gaunt had worked with adults. And okay, that guy had been borderline, but he still had that recklessness of youth. Now that he thought of it, Gaunt hadn't been much older when he died, and he'd been about as impulsive too. It had taken some hard lessons to get that out of him. He hoped Mike wouldn't have the same run of troubles he'd had. Unlike Gaunt, he didn't have the Rats to pick up the pieces. Sure, they'd put him on desk duty for almost a decade, but they'd pulled his bony rump out of the fire too. Mike didn't have that luxury.