Issue 1 Downtime

Seated in a wheelchair, Vandal sat at the broadcast mic embroiled in an impassioned speech.

"...and there we have it folks. We may all well be fucked, but the past has a fighting chance. Send them your hopes, your dreams, your prayers if you still manage to believe in a higher power... send them into the past. For if, Fate, God, Allah, Buddha willing, this crapsack world ceases to be, those thoughts riding upon the wake of change shall be our legacy. And even if the world they save is not our own... once again the truth may not make a noise, be we sure as hell will!"

He kicked it to music and leaned back.

Stan was watching from the producers seat, intrigued.

Will, still frozen solid, walked in to sit next to Stan.

"Hello, Will. Good to see you up and about."

"Yeah--probably no touchy for now, though."

Stan nodded, looking him over.

"The liquid nitrogen was a good idea.. sometimes you just need time to slow things down and figure them out. Bobby knows that feeling."

"Yeah--quick thinking by her...as long as I don't thaw too quickly."

Vandal rolled into the room. This provided a good view of his amputated legs.

"So what's the verdict? Do I get syndication?" he joked.

"The second coming of Wolfman Jack, for certain."

Stan smiled, turning to Vandal.

"Heh. Thanks. Though the howlin' is more Bigby's schtick."

"Weird."

"No weirder than a human popsicle."

"Just don't get your tongue stuck."

"I'm so not into licking dudes. Faunus might, but you don't even want to know where that tongue has been."

"Well, regardless. You have quite the operation here. nice setup, still fighting the good fight in your own way."

"Coming from you Doc, I'm honored. Though I couldn't have done it alone. I found a great bunch to work with. These people... they're like my family yanno? A rowdy, jaded, dysfunctional family, but really... would I have it any other way?" he said with fondness for his crew.

"Probably not. It takes a special group of people to achieve what you all have here."

Stan got up, looking at the setup.

"How far can the signal reach?"

"Between the air and the net, we're worldwide."

Stan nodded.

"Good show."

"Part of me will always want to be out there on the front line, but someone's got to keep hope alive right?"

"There are plenty of ways to resist. Not all of them involve the front lines, as you have shown. You are a good example, Nick."

"I just wish Ma was around to see it..."

Skeiron walked-not stumbled-into the room, after a good night's rest to sleep away the effects of all the wine the day before. "Hey." he said awkwardly, the only greeting he could think of.

"Well well, look who's sober," he smirked.

"It's a rare event. Enjoy it while it lasts," he smirked back, taking a seat with the others. "How are you? It's been a while."

"As good as can be expected in this horribly depressing job. Finding hope in the hopeless ain't for the faint-hearted."

"Neither is what we do, but ya do what ya can, I guess."

He lightened up. "Man it's been a long damn time. Way too damn long."

"No kiddin'. So what all happened after you left London that got you to, well, here?"

"I drifted for a while, then eventually fell in with a small resistance group in Romania. It was good for a while... until we got sold out. The fucker got them all killed... all but me. And I would have been too if Zelera and her family hadn't pulled my broken body out of the river. Even when my health recovered... my mind was another story. I had all but given up my will to live."

"But she helped me through that too, and in that crisis of purpose the idea of RRR was born."

Stan smiled, listening to the updates from his former students.

"It's amazing, seeing how life has proceeded for you two. Ignoring the current situation, of course."

"Yeah. I never once expected I'd be running a 'global terrorist network,' as the talking heads put it."

"Things rarely turn out how you figure they will. But that's pretty obvious."

"We may be drunk and have no legs, but we keep marchin' on," he deadpanned. "I knew this was gonna happen sooner or later. I guess I had just always hoped it'd be later rather than sooner when I was younger."

"Yep. That' still old," he smirked.

"So, we have Aiden with us from the past. Been a while since I've seen him...or at least our version of him."

"Same here. Can't say I miss his smug ass too much," he chuckled.

"I do miss the band, though."

"That dream died way too soon."

"No kiddin'. I guess all of us are still around...," he muttered.