Triumph - The Protectors of Central Illinois University, the city of Stevenson, and beyond! Or so it was. Join us now, as we peek into the altered lives of the heroes of Triumph, and witness the spark of a new era!
It was dusk on Sunset Blvd. Near the university, the street was pretty tame, but closer in to downtown, things were different. Drugs were the product du jour, with a side of prostitution and stolen goods. It was another hot California night, and a place meant to be a desert was teaming with human life. There above it all he watched, floating on a disk of light.
The young man was not much to look at, short and unobtrusive. Even his costume was modest, jeans and a hoodie. He looked more like a kid at a comic book convention than an actual super hero, except for the self-generated disk of energy that he floated on.
It wasn’t for the drug dealers and prostitutes that Dreamweaver was watching, however. It was for what happened next. An alarm sounded, one that Dreamweaver had been waiting for. Now was the time to act.
The young hero swooped down in the warm California air. Before he realized what was happening, though, a blue blur zipped past him and up sunset toward downtown. This was Dreamweaver's first encounter with a super speedster, and he'd been unprepared for just how amazingly fast the villain would be. Undaunted, he swivelled his energy saucer and slammed ahead into the night and his best speed.
Once he was close enough, the youth began firing coherent bolts of greenish energy at his opponent, until finally, one slammed into the ground in front of her, damaging the road in an unexpected way. The blue costumed speedster flew through the air at high speed, barely twisting enough to avoid a dangerously fast head-on collision with the pavement.
Dreamweaver pressed his advantage, diving toward the street and encasing the speedster, a dark skinned woman wearing a blue costume and helm, with a cage of energy.
"Okay, friabata or whatever your name is..."
"Ratnapani," she corrected. "It means 'bodhisatva of readied treasure.'. It's Hindi."
"Okay, whatever," said Dreamweaver, frustrated. "Looks like I've got you."
The woman smiled a wide smile. "Looks that way," she agreed.
Dreamweaver was taken aback, but nodded his agreement to his own statement. "Right. So you're coming peacefully?"
"Oh, hardly," Ratnapani said ominously. "I was just agreeing with your assessment of the perceived situation. But perception is a fallacy."
With that, the speedster began spinning at A high rate of speed on her toes. Since her movement was within Dreamweaver's cage, he was at a loss at how to stop it.
With a flash of light, Ratnapani was gone, just like that. Dreamweaver stood, stunned, looking at his force cage. It was at that moment that a figure of darkened fire approached.
"Rough break, kid," Magma said.
Dreamweaver was in awe. "Whoa, Magma," he said, staring open-jawed at the former Triumph-er.
"Hey, you know my name," Jan said, flattered. "I know yours, too. You go by Dreamweaver."
"Yeah," the young hero said, not daring to believe his ears.
"We need to talk. You missed this one..."
"I can do better!" Dreamweaver insisted.
"I know you can," Jan said, inwardly laughing at the kid, seeing herself two years ago. "That's why I came. We're putting a team together. We want you to be a part of the new Triumph!"
Meanwhile, in Chicago…
Aaron Majesky sat with his girlfriend, a beautiful Indian woman named Nirmala. The two had met in Tibet, of all places, when Aaron, AKA Dragonfly, was trying to thwart the criminal organization known as The Milan. Nirmala had been a physician at a clinic there, and had helped treat his injuries so he could finish his mission, and finally return to Stevenson, Illinois and re-join his friends in Triumph.
Aaron and Nirmala had remained close, and when she’d relocated to the US, she’d decided to join Aaron here in Chicago. Now, on a cafe on the North Side near Montrose, they waited for Jyoti, Nirmala’s niece who lived in Niles. Her babysitter was dropping the young woman off to meet her aunt and the famous Dragonfly for a day of shopping on the Mag Mile.
“Did you finish painting the living room last night?” Aaron asked, sipping his drink. He was not a big fan of coffee or tea, so he’d simply gotten a blueberry lemonade.
“Not quite. I didn’t have the little brush for the edges. I’ll need to pick that up today.” Nirmala was still decorating her home, a townhouse in Lincoln Park.
Aaron looked up and saw a pretty young Indian woman walk in the door, scanning the crowd until she caught sight of Nirmala. The girl had her straight black hair pulled back in a pony tail, and her round head accentuated her dark brown eyes.
“Aunt Nimala!” she said, running over and giving her aunt a big hug. Aaron noticed the sitter watching through the cafe window, waiting to make sure Jyoti found her aunt. The woman, a very curvy woman with short cropped blond hair, seemed satisfied and went back to her car, double parked on the street. Aaron’s eyes focused back on his girlfriend and her niece.
“And this is Aaron…” Nirmala started, but before she could get very far into the introduction, the young girl’s eyes went even wider.
“Dragonfly!” she said. “You are amazing! I’ve seen and read everything about you I can get my hands on!”
Aaron didn’t know how to feel. He’d had fans, of course. Back in Stevenson, he didn’t even keep his identity a secret. Even now, a quick internet search could turn it up. But to his knowledge, Dragonfly had never had fans so young. It made him feel a little old.
“Really? Glad to hear I’ve inspired you!” Aaron answered. It sounded cheesy, he knew, but he hadn’t interacted with anyone this age since he’d been that age himself.
Later…..
The trio had a fun day of shopping, and Jyoti was exhausted when she finally returned home. She spoke to her mother in Hindi briefly as she walked in the door, and went straight up the stairs to her room.
Dropping on her bed, she pulled out her cell phone and spun so she faced the ceiling. Jyoti’s room was very pink and girlie, with the exception of an ancient Kris knife on a stand on her desk. She’d acquired it when her family had lived briefly in Brunei.
“Yes, Raj? It’s Jyoti.[pause] Yes, I met him. [pause] He’d dreamy. [pause]. No, I guess you wouldn’t think so. Anyway, yes, I do want to go ahead with my plan. Call your contact in Honk Kong. I need to speak to Steven Chen.”
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