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:bat: "Ace. Scarab." Duncan Summers looked surprisingly young for a man of his age, his eyes still vital and his back still straight despite the cane he leaned on. Somewhere past 55, he looked like he had several decades to go already.

The Scarab swallowed a sudden surge of anger, grief, and guilt. She glared through her helm, thankful once more that it completely obscured her features.

"Duncan. It has...been a long time. The years have been kind to you."

When Summers slipped away to deal with his students, The Scarab breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm only human" he used to laugh. That's what made you so terrifying, Duncan.

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The Scarab sighed. It never fails. The less people know, the longer and louder they talk.

"There are far worse than pimps and drug dealers hiding in the dark alleys of this city. Every night, Avenger and his allies stand between those monsters and the people of Freedom. They suffer in the court of public opinion because they do not act out of self-interest or aggrandizement. They do not care if they are popular, or even liked. They...We...stalk the shadows simply because it is the right thing to do. Let the tabloids and the history books tell whatever story they wish."

"The Raven understood this. Avenger understands it now. Every group needs its outsiders. Every shining light casts a shadow, and both have their purpose. The Freedom League can be the light, to show people the way. To give them something to believe in, something to aspire to. And the Freedom Knights can make the difficult choices. The unpopular choices. You will condemn us in front of the cameras, and thank us behind closed doors. And we will accept both as our due."

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"Do you really think that's the case?" Jack had taken this opportunity to reappear, his stealth and discretion the equal of the recently-departed Duncan Summers. He'd lost his drink somewhere along the way. "Can't you make the equally strong argument that time in darkness is liable to blind those kinds of heroes to what's really going on?" Even wearing a silly domino mask, it was always hard to tell what Jack was thinking...well, for non-telepaths. "You know what they say about those who fight with monsters."

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"Do you really think that's the case? Can't you make the equally strong argument that time in darkness is liable to blind those kinds of heroes to what's really going on? You know what they say about those who fight with monsters."

"That is part of the unspoken social contract between the heroes of light and darkness - maintaining balance. Between the Centurions and the Ravens. We keep each other in check. We keep each other honest. That is why people like Avenger and Arrowhawk keep the company of individuals such as DarkStar and Grimalkin. Even though The Raven kept his comrades in The League at arms length, he admitted that he needed us as much as we needed him."

What's your game, Jack? What are you playing at here?

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Do you know how long it's been since I've been to a party like this? Jack's thoughts were bleaker than he ever let himself say, much less act out behind the mask of Avenger. One where people are just trying to talk and have a good time? Images of vampire revelries came to his mind unbidden, though he had the self-control to keep the worst memories to himself. Elena saw social functions of predators in Jack's mind, a world of bitter social rivalries and petty eternal grudges that went on over and over again. Jack seemed to have especially strong feelings about vampire social activities. But I can't come as Avenger. Avenger doesn't socialize, because Avenger isn't supposed to have any friends. Because if people did look into where Avenger came from, then this party would be full of people trying to kill me. There was a bleak smile in his mind at that. Funny how things work out like that.

"I think you make a good point, Scarab," said Jack a little distractedly, not as experienced in juggling mental conversation with verbal as was the spirit of Heru-Ra. "Maybe there is some merit to working in the shadows.

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Do you know how long it's been since I've been to a party like this? One where people are just trying to talk and have a good time? But I can't come as Avenger. Avenger doesn't socialize, because Avenger isn't supposed to have any friends. Because if people did look into where Avenger came from, then this party would be full of people trying to kill me. Funny how things work out like that.

"I think you make a good point, Scarab," said Jack a little distractedly, not as experienced in juggling mental conversation with verbal as was the spirit of Heru-Ra. "Maybe there is some merit to working in the shadows.

I know, Jack. I meant, why are you trying to contradict me when I'm standing up for you? Because that's what I'm doing. I know why Avenger can't be here tonight. So I'm trying to give him a voice. Him, and all the rest. Why do you think I bothered showing up to this in the first place? It wasn't because I wanted to run into "old friends."

I know it's important that you maintain this illusion that you're different from the rest of us, that you're a man apart. So I'll make sure no one pays attention to the man behind the curtain. But don't try to pull the wool over my eyes. You're not alone. That's what I keep trying to tell you. Everyone in this room has a laundry list of supervillains who might crash this party at any moment seeking bloody vengeance.

And as for the juggling...it's just like juggling anything else. All it takes is practice.

"I am glad we could find some common ground...'Discreet.'"

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:bat: "I will deal with my students. You will return to the party and apologize for your behavior there.

Pompadour steps past Duncan up to the mirror, to straighten his jacket and tuxedo shirt, pat the perspiration off his face, and the like. Although seemingly ignoring Mr. Summers, Pompadour's eyes never leave him, in the mirror's reflection. "Mr. Summers, if I'm going to try to act with integrity, apologizing to Ms. Gibbons doesn't exactly fit into my definition. I mean, all I was doing was interfering with her attempt to misuse her powers -and I can't really say I'm sorry I did. I assume you meant that I should apologize to her, make her happy, make the party people happy as a domino affect."

Seemingly satisfied with his newly freshened image, Pompadour turns to face Duncan once more. "I'm not above pragmatism, Mr. Summers. Actually, I'm probably more pragmatic than noble, which might not make me the best hero, but I'm still a novice. I'll even concede that I'm not acting nobly, I'm acting self-righteously. Perhaps you don't remember being in high school, but I do. I was subjected to the kind of cruelty Ms. Gibbons was attempting to perpetrate regularly, and if it hadn't outraged me, I wouldn't have stepped in."

Pompadour holds up one hand "You said you'd deal with your students, if that includes a conversation with Miss Manipulator about bullying behaviour, my Nobility or Outrage will be satisfied." Pompadour holds up his other hand, "Although the scenario you painted that puts me behind bars seems pretty far fetched, I can see the damage this night can cause me. My Pragmatic side can see the value of apologizing -provided you're not too particular about sincerity." Pompadour pulls a face. "I suppose I could say that I'm sorry that I stuck my nose where it didn't belong, that's the honest truth."

Pompadour sighs deeply "...And I'm sure I asked you to call me Pompadour. Mr. Mason is just some guy my agent made up."

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Outside on the sidewalk, Grim loiters invisibly as she watches the crowd, once again the observer; for the first time in a while, she craves a smoke, something she hadn't felt since she was reborn in that cold alley. Her sensitive nose can't handle the stench anymore, but to have that little stick of joy in her fingers again, to flick and fumble with before raising it to her lips...

It's a filthy habit and you're lucky to be rid of it; you actually had to 'die' to quit, remember?

She peers upwards towards where she imagines the sixth floor must be; why couldn't they have held this darn thing in a proper hotel, with balconies and verandas, not this glass and steel monstrosity. Then she could have gone out one of the French doors, get some fresh air, and make her way back in. The fact is, she's too worked up to go home or patrol, and there were one of two other folks she wouldn't mind talking to, if only for a minute or two.

Maybe I can find a service entrance. Oh for God's sake, don't be an idiot!

She suddenly reappears by the doorman, giving him the shock of his life, but he quickly regains his composure and waves her inside; once she's in the sixth floor lobby, she ghosts again to have a quick look 'round.

Hmm, no one dead, but a few key players have absented the field of battle.

Satisfied that the party has not gone completely to the dogs, she reappears and heads to the buffet for another plate.

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Dark Star stood/hovered at the large window, watching the sky. While you couldn't see many stars in the city, he still enjoyed the view. The city was a wonderful contrast. This city and the world were beautiful and fascinating and full of life. Busy, loud and energetic. Space was full of energy, a different type of course. But it stretched on forever. It was quiet and peaceful but there was still the hectic nature of life out there in certain places.

Or perhaps he was the 'contrast'. He just didn't quite fit in anymore. Oh, he still tried. But really, there wasn't much left for him. Once his sister-in-law was on her feet again and his niece and nephew were old enough to take care of themselves, then he had little reason to be here. Just his sense of duty and responsibility...

He mentally shook himself and focused his attention behind him once more. Such an event was easily a decade or more away. For now, he really should get back to pretending he belonged at a party of all places.

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Grim couldn't help but notice the lonely-looking translucent man floating by the windows, so she made her way over to him, munching on a mushroom puff.

"Hi Darthk Sar."

She holds up a finger and then swallows.

"Sorry, I have no class. Greetings and salutations once again, Dark Star! I was thinking of bailing, but who am I kidding?"

She waves her hand about the room full of costumed folks, like a Price is Right model.

"How could I give up on this, the most sparklingest night of the year?"

The petite heroine sighs, then looks a bit more serious.

"Okay, so forgive me being ignorant, but are you actually a Knight of Freedom? I'm losing track of who is and is not part of the club."

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"Okay, so forgive me being ignorant, but are you actually a Knight of Freedom? I'm losing track of who is and is not part of the club."

"It is less a formal organization, and more a loose-knit confederacy of like-minded individuals."

Anyone watching the camera footage on television later would see The Scarab quietly walking across the room to stand with Grimalkin and DarkStar. But as far as those present were concerned, at the time, she simply vanished at one part of the room, and appeared out of nowhere at another.

"I was thinking of bailing, but who am I kidding?"

"It is fortunate that you did not. The balance I spoke of earlier takes many forms. Your energy and irreverence provide a necessary contrast to those of us with a more...'serious' temperament."

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It's a good thing she'd already swallowed her mushroom puff, or else Scarab's sudden appearance would've led to Grim needing the Heimlich maneuver :shock:

"It is fortunate that you did not. The balance I spoke of earlier takes many forms. Your energy and irreverence provide a necessary contrast to those of us with a more...'serious' temperament."

Once she has a minute to compose herself, the young heroine responds to the ageless one.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply I wasn't happy being part of the Knights, loose confederacy that it is; I just wasn't thrilled with this ol' party for a bit, is all, what with the juvenile hijinx provided by, well, by the juveniles. Knights are fine by me; fits my style."

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He looked from the window to the shapeshifter. "Hello once again Grim." He chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about it. I don't offend easy. And yeah, I'm not exactly good at these things either. Not that I ever was," he added with a grin.

He nodded. "Indeed. I was there when we banded together. I tend to be off world a lot, so I'm not always around." He shrugged. It was hard. There was just so much that needed doing in this world and beyond. He was fast but he still couldn't be everywhere. "But I'm happy to work with anyone, be they Knight or civil servant."

He looked at her and Scarab with a nod. "I agree. You should stay. You seem like a rather lively lady. I'm certainly you could have fun regardless of the setting. As for the kids. Well, kids will be kids, right? I think everyone was one at some point."

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"I agree. You should stay. You seem like a rather lively lady. I'm certainly you could have fun regardless of the setting. As for the kids. Well, kids will be kids, right? I think everyone was one at some point."

"I suppose you're right."

She sighs, then suddenly gives DS a mischievous look out of the corner of her eye.

"Hmm. So, Mr Star, I wanna ask you something-"

She spins around, and in a flash is wearing a bright red Technicolor dress right out of a 1950s musical, with a red domino to match.

"Would you like to dance? And don't say you can't because your incorporeal, that is the lamest excuse of all time. We do need to get some music, though."

She signals for a waiter, who comes over promptly.

"Yes, ma'm?"

Grim flashes her most winning smile. "Hi-" She checks his name tag. "Arturo. Can you ask our host if would be okay if we had some music for dancing? Mr. Dark Star and myself would like to dance." She indicates his hovering form. "As you can see, he's light on his feet."

Arturo smiles and nods.

"I'll see what I can do."

He turns to seek out Ace Danger and make an inquiry.

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Dark Star chuckled. “Mr.? Sound formal. DS works and it's shorter too.†He looked at the shapeshifter, surprised at the sudden change and then the question. He was a little caught off guard. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that. Most questions he got tended to be about various sights in the universe…this was a new one.

“Dancing…?†He hesitated a long moment, before continuing with a smile. “I’d be honored.†He bowed deeply as his formal words, though his next were a bit more humor filled. “I must warn you though. It’s been over twenty years since I danced last. And even then I wasn’t what you could describe as ‘graceful’.â€Â

He stepped forward, up to Grimalkin as the man turned and walked away. A few moments later, the music started. Dark Star reached out to take her hand with his own, letting a little gravity induced TK link up, in effect ‘holding’ her hand in his own. While she could feel the gentle grip, he felt nothing given tk had no sense of touch. He had never figured that working on his control would have this application but it certainly was helping now. “I wouldn’t dream of using it as an excuse. I think I’ll work around that handicap.†He chuckled. “Still won’t be able to step on your toes though. Good thing too.â€Â

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Aristodemus had returned to his seat, alone. Everybody else was busy chatting or dancing with each other. Not him. He just accepted that way. He's always been, and probably always will be, an outsider. Ace Danger was way better being social. Of course, he's the host.

Well, this is the way it's going to be...Maybe I should just leave, and try to avoid the paparazzi outside.

He then spotted an open spot over at the bar. Okay, maybe just one more Bailey's... Narrowly avoiding collision with anybody else, he manage to get the seat. "I'll have a Bailey's original. And leave the bottle."

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“I wouldn’t dream of using it as an excuse. I think I’ll work around that handicap.†He chuckled. “Still won’t be able to step on your toes though. Good thing too.â€Â

Grim was all smiles as she took Dark Star's hands. "See, I knew it; we're superheroes, we can do anything, right? And don't worry, I kinda suck at this too, especially, what is this, the tango? Yeah, you're being spared me stepping on you!"

Despite her statements, Grim seemed to get the hang of it rather quickly; no doubt her (un)natural grace is a huge benefit here, but her considerable charm also helps to smooth over any missteps.

"Well would you look at that; not too shabby, huh? Maybe not Astaire and Rogers, but it'll do, right?" :D

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Jack had joined the small group to watch the dance by the time the others noticed him, applauding lightly. It was nice to see Grimalkin having fun, not to mention Dark Star. Huh! I guess he likes girls. I'll have to keep that in mind for his birthday. If he has birthdays. Man, it _is_ harder being friendly with normal people than I thought. "Beautiful. We should put the two of you on Dancing with the Superheroes." Down his mental link with Scarab, assuming one was still in place, he sent another line of thoughts her way.

Why was I undercutting you? There was a wry, bitter edge to Jack's mind. Maybe I've had more exposure to my own people lately than I want to. I can't... I can't tell you what it's like, Elena. There just aren't words. Unless you do know. Even through the mental link, Elena could clearly hear the awe and envy in Jack's mental voice. The Scarab had its own brand of immortality, one that required nothing more than living. Heru-Ra's ka was certainly considerably older than any vampire Jack Faretti had ever met in his four years dead.

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It is difficult to explain, Jack. There is a tradeoff of sorts, between immortality and conscious reincarnation.

People in your condition retain one life, one body. You accumulate knowledge, experience, and sensations in an uninterrupted manner. But this also leaves you more susceptible to ennui and isolation. You reach a point where you feel like you've seen it all before, done it all before. People stop surprising you. And your connections with normal humans become more and more tenuous. Your experience separates you from them. They seem to grow old and die at a faster and faster rate. Not to mention having to uproot yourself once or twice a century to keep people from getting suspicious.

When I am reborn, I remember almost nothing. Not consciously, anyway. There are tell-tale signs, but it is rare anyone knows to look for them. Sometimes I Awaken into my True Self during adolescence, but often not until well into my adulthood. This creates a vulnerability that my nemesis has exploited time and time again. Each lifetime, I am truly a different person, shaped by my new experiences. And yet at the same time, I am the same. Once Awakened, I have the experience of millenia to draw upon, yet in some ways the person I was is bound by the person I now am. It keeps things "fresh," in a way. But it also means re-learning some of the same lessons, over and over again. And it often feels as if there are two sets of voices in my mind. Sometimes they agree. Sometimes they do not.

I have spoken with other immortals over the years. None of us have ever been able to agree about which situation is "better" or "worse" than the other.

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He laughed at her comments as they went out into the open dance area. It didn’t bother him much that they were all dancing. He’d done far more embarrassing things, both before and after becoming Dark Star. Besides, Grim’s lighthearted attitude was rather infectious.

Despite the fact that it had been a few decades since he’d been dancing, and he wasn’t even good at it then, and both their claims at ‘sucking’, they moved around the floor easily, looking like they’d been dancing for while now.

Dark Star chuckled and spun her around, before continuing the Tango. “Not too shady at all. A good deal better than that I’d say!â€Â

He heard Jack’s comment and smiled as they moved back and forth across the dance floor. He was having a good time. Probably for the first time in who knows how long; that didn’t involve him traveling through space or fighting villains. Just having fun with other people. He had missed this.

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Sen stepped past the front door security as he handed them his invitation. He had not intended to attend, but Akai had been insistant. "Go out, cousin," he said. "Go meet some of the others, you Kiyoshis are so damned stiff-necked some times. Who knows you might meet one of those lady heroes with plunging neckline, let me tell you-" Sen didn't much care for parties, and he wasn't looking for allies, though he had a hard time arguing with how effective his last team up had been. But surely Nightrival had been one of a kind, but maybe...

Akai had frowned at the sword but Sen had no intention of leaving it. Nor did he put on a mask. He wasn't a costumed crime fighters; this was the only life he knew.

When he crossed the threshold, he was immediately buffeted by a wash of magical auras, the place was pulsing with mystic energies. He walked through the crowds, recognizing few if any people.A few faces did stick out, he could remember them from Newspapers, and T.V news.

He saw a small knot of people surrounding a dance floor. He moved to take a look. Their attentions seemed focused on two individuals. A woman and... something. It was man shaped but it seemed empty some how, like a ghost. Then Sen got a look at the woman. Young, pretty, strange magic's radiated from her; what was even stranger was that she was familiar. Where had he seen her before? Sen moved to get a closer look, excusing himself if he could, but forcing his way past if he had to.

When he got to the edge of the dance floor he remembered. She had been with Night Rival. Could she know where he was? He almost took a step on the dance floor before he caught himself. No point in making a scene now. Eventually she would finish and he could ask her. He took the time now to look around him. He began to notice the room's odd occupants. Some strange young man in a ridiculous outfit was walking out of the bathroom, and he was standing next to some tall masked man. He felt a faint stirring from the Muramasa, but it was barely there, probably the sword's usual malice.

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Other immortals, eh? I have a feeling I don't want to know. I've gotten to know enough immortals in my time. Jack's thoughts were quiet at first, his mind quiescent enough that Scarab was about to terminate the link before he suddenly asked, You knew the Centurion for a lot of years, didn't you, Elena? The image in Jack's mind was a strong one. Immortal undead or not, he was a young man; the Centurion had been the golden, shining hero of his boyhood who had died saving the world just when he was old enough to understand what that meant. What was he like? While Jack thought, the party kept moving all around them. With a look of monumental disgust on his broad face, Leeroy Hawke was engaged in the business of discreetly escorting out both Clarence Beaudrie and Daisy Gibbons, the latter still a lovely picture of sadness even though her eruption of palpable grief had come to an end. He made eye contact with Geckoman as he went, something like camaraderie passing between student and teacher for a moment before the trio disappeared.

"Hey, I saw what happened there," spoke up Fletcher Beaumont IV, the former Claremont valedictorian having come up to Chris with a concerned look on his face. "You all right? You need something to settle down with?"

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Dancing with Star was fun; Grim could tell he didn't do this sort of thing very often (heck, neither did she!), but she had a feeling that he needed the release.

Well if nothing else, I did my good deed for the day. :)

They seem to have drawn a crowd, which is a little embarrassing but not much; by the time the song ends, Grim releases the ephemeral hero's hands and does her best formal courtesy. Then she turns back to the crowd and does a playful spin, her dress flowing from red into deep blue in the process.

"Anyone else up for a little twirl? I think I'm getting the hang of it, so-"

She stops abruptly when she sees a shock of white hair on top of a stern, almost cruel face that is watching her; there was something familiar about him, but she couldn't quite place him...

Waitaminute, that meeting at Monty's garage last year; he was there, along with a bunch of other people the boss wanted to recruit. His name sounded Asian, like 'Shen' or 'Sen' or 'Zen', really short like that. Sen, that was it, Sen!

She turns back to DS and quickly bows.

"Thanks for the lovely dance, Star; excuse me a sec, okay?"

The young heroine then approaches the newcomer, sliding easily through the crowd as her dark brown eyes cautiously examine him.

"Hi. It's Sen, isn't it? We met last year, on the Southside, remember?"

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"Kiyoshi Sen," he stated. "Yes we have met before as I thought." He looked her up and down and his eyes narrowed. "It has been a while." Was this the same girl, no, woman? Her walk was more...primal. The sorcery about her was old, but new at the same time. "You have changed." It was a simple statement of an uncomplicated man.

There was some magic about you when we first met, but it is deeper now, more dangerous. She was more dangerous now. He broke his hawkish regard, to take in his surroundings. "I think I preferred our previous meeting place," he said to no one in particular. He might have looked out of place standing there one hand on his weapon as if he expected to be attacked int he middle of a party. Though he carried it off, making a few people wonder if they would indeed be under attack shortly. Suddenly his face softened; not quite a smile though. "I was not aware you could dance." There was a brief glint of humor in his face, before it clouded again.

"Night Rival. Have you seen him?" His voice was firm but with a hint of pleading.

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Jack's thoughts were quiet at first, his mind quiescent enough that Scarab was about to terminate the link before he suddenly asked, You knew the Centurion for a lot of years, didn't you, Elena? The image in Jack's mind was a strong one. Immortal undead or not, he was a young man; the Centurion had been the golden, shining hero of his boyhood who had died saving the world just when he was old enough to understand what that meant. What was he like?

He lived up to his reputation. Strong. Bold. Determined. Gracious. He was often ignorant of his own magnetism. He honestly didn't realize just how inspirational he was to those around him and to the world at large. At times, he could be frustratingly naive and idealistic. But I can think of worse flaws to have.

The Scarab's vision began to blur. She bowed her head slightly for a moment, squeezing her eyes closed. A single tear escaped down her cheek. All this was obscured by her helm, of course. But for a fraction of a second, the image slipped into Avenger's mind. It was as if he could see through her mask, though just for a moment. Then he felt the distinct sensation of a curtain being hastily drawn between them.

It is said that you should never meet your own heroes. That they will let you down, fall short of your expectations. I can honestly say, in the five-thousand years I have walked this Earth, that he was the exception that proved that rule.

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