In Earth-777C, Fionuir McGrath takes on the moniker of BlackJack (a Black Cat variant) as a renowned renegade burglar. Sometimes an ally, sometimes an enemy, they're often inextricably pulled into the enigmatic Cypher-Web's schemes as he struggles to unravel the mysteries of the Prometheus Sapphire at the heart of the Kingdom Casino's empire of intrigue. Cypher-Web knows it's somehow linked to the untimely end of his wife and child, while BlackJack's motivations remain a mystery. Do they want the gem all to themself, or is there perhaps a treasure more valuable they're chasing?
Will the two manage to uncover the dark secrets of the sapphire and defeat the dastardly Kingdom Casino? Or will their gamble only turn up snake eyes? When you're dealing with this daring duo, all bets are off.
Fionuir is a Radiant. Cypher is not. In a conflict where defeat means extermination, the two are forced to fight on opposite sides of a battle neither truly wants to win.
Short drabble below the cut:
The downtime between bouts of conflict were few and far between, forces from each side of the war so deeply entrenched within the scarred city that removal would surely require the amputation of several blocks.
It had been that way for months, small forces picking at each other like scabs while the life bled out of the once bustling downtown. Any remaining civilians had long since fled. A ghost town would have held fewer corpses.
The pallor of death did nothing to dampen the mood of the youngest recruits, still fresh faced and full of firey spirit that drove them to rage against the equal and opposing forces that seemed adamant in remaining stubbornly stuck in all the wrong places. No, in fact it seemed only to embolden them further to howl louder into the echoing cavernous crypt of the city, filling it with noise.
Sergei lit a cigarette, the rasp of the flint sharp against the constant dull hum of endless advertisement boards. He was one of the new ones, recruited into the Radiant forces by choice instead of necessity. Such was another difference of the times. Layla, one of his squad-mates, joined him with a sour expression.
"Those things will kill you, ya know," she huffed, purple eyes brilliant in the sickly neon glow of a million different screens. Sergei chuckles, puffing out smoke. A joke, in about as poor taste as you could ask for on a battlefield, but it tickled the gallows humour that every soldier these days had.
"Sure, sure," he nodded, stepping a few strides further away from their sorry excuse of a forward encampment. Crumbled concrete bricks crunched underfoot, the remains of a once regal looking bank. "A race then. See what cancer kills me first. The smokes or the Resistance."
The two sneered. The lingering resentment was almost palpable on the air, grown over months of unrelenting clash after clash with no real progress.
"If it were up to me, we'd have turned those pathetic excuses for soldiers into ash by now," Layla responded, a crackle of electricity dangerously dancing along her fingers. The glitching screen behind her flickered in agreement. "If we didn't have a coward of a commander this whole city would be ours."
A sharp snort from the side caused the two young soldiers to jump, taken unawares of a third party listening to their displeasure. Hardly more than a shape of shadow, Prysm stood lax against another ad board. Pinpricks of green light followed the young Radiants with disinterest as they sprung to attention.
"Sir!" Sergei nervously hailed, hurriedly dropping his cigarette to the ground and saluting rigidly. Layla followed the motion, curled hair frizzing up as she anxiously sparked. Another disinterested sigh escaped Prysm's lips, long fingers flipping an odd looking device slowly.
Layla and Sergei had heard the stories. Hell, the whole army probably had. Old timers from another age, before the war broke out. Legendary Radiants who could ride on the wind or revive the dead. Agents who battled enemies from whole other dimensions, and won.
The rumors about Prysm were some of the more interesting. By all accounts, they were nothing short of traitorous to the Radiant cause, despite being one of the most highly regarded in terms of capabilities. A lone mercenary who fought on no side but their own, until the Empress had managed to leash them to her cause.
"We didn't see you there, sir, please forgive us!" Layla quickly barked out, still stiff as a rod.
Prysm hummed. "Yeah," they drawled. "No one sees me these days."
And that was the case for the past few months, as far as the lowly soldiers knew. Their position in the city had all but been considered a lost cause until of the arrival of a powerful operator was announced. Prysm was rarely seen in the encampments, only ever appearing at the last opportune moment to turn the tide and secure a stalemate, then promptly dissipating like smoke. Of course, there was enough speculating to fill the dead space of their absence. Colluding with the enemy, secret missions from the Empress herself, starting a rebel army of their own - truly the soldiers' imaginations ran wild. But tonight, here they were, eyes narrowed at a pair of gossiping Radiants who couldn't keep their mouths shut.
"Layla didn't mean anything by it, I swear," Sergei mumbled.
"I know," Prysm immediately replied. With another sigh of disdain, they pulled out a cigarette of their own. "At ease."
Layla and Sergei shared an uncomfortable glance. After a moment of awkward silence, Layla piped up.
"I mean, it's true though," she started. "I don't know why we can't just take them. We have superior firepower and skills! We're Radiants for godsakes!"
Prysm put the cigarette to their lips, the tip lighting all on its own. They took a long drag, staring unblinking as Layla's confident posture slowly caved.
"Nope," they stated simply, breathing out a stream of smoke.
Another glance between soldiers.
"But... why?" Sergei asked.
The moment dragged in silence as Prysm continued to smoke, flipping the coin over and over and over. Rubbing a thumb reverentially over the surface, they hum.
"Even the gods couldn't kill Prometheus," Prysm sighs, looking down at the disk. "Learn to get comfortable being the chains."
a lil behind the scenes for the prysmetheus page i did a while back. did some fun lil concept sketches while stuck in the airport, but didnt end up using all of them
so here you go
also sorry for poor quality my phone is practically a potato with a glass shard stuck into it
