What Lies In The Hearts Of Men?

Deep under the ancient and strong foundations of the Flats Justin Sunfire called home, there was a a long abandoned section of the building's boiler room, the pipes and machines had long grown silent and unmoving as the few remaining orange lights cast a somber glow all around. From the dirty, rusted remains of the boilers, heating fixtures and furnaces. Everything was coated in a thick layer of grime, dust and cobwebs. Justin stood in the center of the room as a computer on a desk propped up against the back wall clicked on and warmed up. The only sounds was his breathing as the three masks stared at him on their racks beside the computer. The Mask of V, the domino masks of The Spirit and The shadow with their blue and black suits and coats. He took a seat at the computer and plugged the flash Drive of Scotch Bonnet's data. He had moved most of the stuff for his vigilante personalities from his room to the lower basement, including the safe. A series of newspaper clippings had followed his exploits, though they tended to exaggerate or stretch the truth.

Vigilante killing slay american motorcycle club. One read, though it failed to mention a few things. One was that the so called "Motorcycle club" had been a violent and corrupt chapter in the Hell Hound biker gang. Most of them where...intimidating, but a majority of them while questionable at best were mostly legit. Hard party goes who rode the roads and drifted? Sure but they mostly kept their actions on the moral questionable but often not something that would trigger his multiple personas awake.

It was a thin line that people walked, they law always has a thin line between acceptable, questionable and objectionable, and his was a very thin one as it was, but whenever there was suffering riding on the heels of what followed, then his personalities would stir and call him to action. The newspapers often conveniently forgot the details on his nights our, from the apartments that called his night swashbuckling as V, armed only with swords and knives against seventy or so thugs. The paper called it an attack on the homeless and a hate crime, but forgot to mention that almost all those who attacked were drug addicts berserk on PCP and crank. No to mention that some part of Justin kept "V" quelled and from killing every one there, if they surrendered, he let them live, of they didn't fight, neither would he. He told those still clearly on drugs to do whatever they can to quit, but he knew in his heart that there was almost no way out for many of them. A harsh reality that would take more than just a mad man with swords going against gun toting  psychos to truly solve.

"Meeting was scheduled down the pier a few weeks from now, give me time to "liberate" that new business the mob is building on the waterfront, claim its a legalized casino but Bonnet was planning to send his models there so the mob could make them work the place as prostitutes." He said aloud to only himself. "The worlds oldest profession, but when it's run by the scum of the earth like them, then it only brings misery. Place is run by a construction company the mob has in their union, Canterlot City has been free of this kinda corruption for years, but now its trying to shatter the innocence and force the city into the "Real" world. If this is reality, let me go on sleeping, if this life then I don't want to live."

"Do you always have to be such a pessimist when your other halves are talking?" A soft and sneaky girl's voice calls out from the shadows of the basement. "UGH! Remember, Remember the Fifth of November, I know not a reason why the gunpowder treason, should ever be forgotten." Out from the corner of a long silent furnace stepped a girl with white and bluish highlight hair, she had a pale grey tone and where her eyes should be white were sickly yellow with red irises. She wore a brown jacket and yellow "Chicken" gloves on her hands and jeans and boots.

"Eris Dis, Cord, what a pleasant surprise, what brings you here? Your uncle finally paid to have you released from the loony bin for young nut cases?" He asks as he scrolls through more of the info on the monitor. Eris only chuckled in her throat and twirled a lock of her hair.

"It was a therapy retreat that only lasted a weekend for my...condition, and frankly at least I don't have multiple personalities that tell me to kill some bourbon drunk strippers with daddy issues." She says as she leans against the wall her eyes lowered and a grin on her face as he looks up from the computer at her, oh pity, the school lunatic was released and with any luck she'd spill the beans on him. Then again being a not all well in the head chickadee herself, chances were she'd pester him a little or a lot, crack some corny jokes, then leave none worse for wear.

"What do you want?" He asks as she places a hand on a rack holding several of "V's" short swords, "and don't touch those." He says as she takes a V sword from the belt, it's the perfect length of just over the size of a dagger and a sword. There are others from twenty-five dollar machetes and six dollar camping knives and hatchets from the sporting goods section of Wal-Mart, to a few samurai katanas and fencing rapiers with sharp ends from a weapon supplier. They compliment the twin M1911 45 pistols, the Israel made desert eagle in full size 50 caliber, and the Uzi micros (1500 rounds per min) in 9MM, along with at  least three different variants on the Tommy gun, with the iconic grip and drum magazine, the other with no grip, and a third with a military issue stick magazine.

"firstly I'd like to know how an eighteen year old 11th...or is it 12th?...eh whatever Canterlot high schooler...gets his hands on this kind of hardware." She says as she picks up his newest addition, a 9MM Mauser, authentic German model too, not the cheap Chinese imitation version or the finish model with a stubby barrel.

"I have my sources Eris, and you'd be smart to keep this to yourself." He said though he was ready to offer her the ill gotten cash to keep her trap shut about all this, Eris chuckled and picked the Mauser from the metal gun rack and checked the safety off and the chamber was locked and loaded.

"I don't want the money you "Robin Hooded" from some junkies filthy pockets." She said twirling the gun in her hands and slipping into the holster she fixed around her shoulder.

"If you want that gun no deal, I just got it and I had to jump through so many hoops to get my hands on it." He said as Eris rested her head in her hands and smirked, if she had a tail (and it almost looked like she did for a second) it would be swishing and swaying. He watched as she smirked an almost toothy grin and he tried to see past her red and yellow eyes to what she was up too, he tried to concentrate on the information on where to make his next move, for the girls of Canterlot High, for his friends, for this town.

"I want in Justin." Eris said with her grin widening as she ran her hand along a low hanging greasy old pipe and rubbed the smudging. "I must have the maid down here more often." Justin only laughed and returned to reading the emails that Aria snagged from the computer.

"What are you talking about Eris?" He asked as he then turned his attention to a map pinned to a cork board on the wall and began to move some pins around or take some away the meaning making sense to him alone, though Eris could crack almost any code or meaning to something.

"My purpose is to join you." She said as she walked over to him with her tight jeans covered hips swaying expertly.

"To join me as what?...Eris?" He replied as he watched her, entranced by her soft red eyes, they no longer looked crazy or menacing, perhaps they never did. They looked...determined, sincere, beautiful.

"As a member of the crew, willing and able, ready to serve. This ship is already home for the indigent, the unwanted, the unworthy. Why not for a homeless entity?" She says now standing right beside him, her eyes almost on the brink of tears as she and him exchange thoughts on the situation.

" Homeless Eris?" He asks as he wonders if her words are on her famous fabrications, or the truth.

"Yes." She answers as she places her hands on his shoulders and looks up at him with her eyes now ruby red and shimmering like hot embers of a charcoal fire.

"What? your folks kicked you out? What about your Uncle Discord?" He asks as she hugs him gently, then cries softly.

"You were right about me...I'm insane, I'm messed up, and I don't have any friends because Im a pest and a nussicnece." He strokes her soft white and light bluish hair softly.

"No your not Eris, you're...unique and funny and charming, a little on the annoying side, but you have learned when to stop." he says patting her shoulder and walking over to a mini fridge, he takes two sodas in glass bottles and gives her one, the perspiring glass bottle is cool to the touch even through her yellow glove. "Eris, I'm the sick one, I've gone up against dangerous people and in some case, I've taken lives...sometimes I wonder if it's not me doing this but..them." He says as she points a finger to the costumes on the racks. "I wanna believe that what I've done will keep our friends at school safe, keep them from some of the lowest depths of society and keep those depths from coming anywhere near us, but at the same time I wonder if I've done more harm than any good."

"I offer to add a little excitement, a little spice, to your life, and all you do is complain? Where is your adventurous spirit, your imagination? Think, Justin, think! Think of the possibilities, the thrills!" She says with gusto, her mood swinging as she starts to cheer up and drink her soda.

"Simply speaking, I don't trust you." Is his only reply.

"Oh. Well, you may not trust me, but you do need me. You're not prepared for what awaits you."

"How can we be prepared for that which we do not know? But I do know that we are ready to encounter it."