The Blaze Affair

A Samantha Grey story set in Primal Dimension.

Spark of Obsession

The Ember Glows

Bartholomew Bailey, a lanky young man, all of nineteen years, his father's ne'er-do-well and mother's failure-to-launch, with a mop of unruly brown hair, sat hunched over his desk, a pencil scratching furiously across the page. His basement room in his parents' house was a testament to his obsession, was plastered with images of a certain heroine. Newspaper clippings, forum printouts, and his own amateur sketches adorned every inch of wall space, each one emphasizing her shapely feminine form and unique features: the dark, curling horns, the intricate, leathery wings, the subtly pointed tail, all engulfed in flames. Bailey found her "exotic" beauty utterly captivating; his life-long fascination with fire having found its ultimate expression in the infernal heroine. His parents wer relieved, as he'd finally stopped playing with matches and lighters to draw pictures of flaming beautiful devils instead. It was, they thought, a small step up.

He paused in his drawing, his eyes lingering on a particularly well-rendered depiction of her wings, the detail of the membranous structure meticulously captured. He sighed, a wave of longing washing over him. If only he could meet her, express his admiration, confess the feelings that churned within him.

His gaze drifted towards a news clipping on his desk, an article detailing Samantha’s recent intervention in a hostage situation. Her courage, her power, her beauty - it all fueled his infatuation. Bailey yearned to be a part of that world, to stand beside her as her equal, to bask in the fiery glow of her presence, to have her desire him. He clung to this dream with the desperation of a drowning man grasping at a straw.

His daydreams were interrupted by the ding of his phone, an alert from HeroSpotter.com, someone caught sight of her! And close by!

Bailey scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding with excitement. He rushed to his closet, flinging open the doors and grabbing the first shirt he could find. It was a creation of his own, a plain white T-shirt emblazoned with the words "Samantha Grey is HOT!" in permanent red marker. He pulled it on, ignoring the slight dampness from a recent wash, and raced up the stairs, out the door, and into the street.

A crowd of people were gawking, pointing up at her in the sky. Bailey pushed up front, waving his arms frantically and yelling her name, his voice a thin squeak lost in the wind. He was sure she saw him, her gaze meeting his for a fleeting moment before she teleported away. Bailey’s chest swelled with an absurd hope -- she had seen him! She knew he existed! Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, he ran back inside, grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and began to write.

His letter was a torrent of gushing praise, filled with poetry and clumsy declarations of admiration; about her bravery, her power, her beauty, the awe-inspiring spectacle of her fire. He included his drawings, carefully chosen to highlight her most striking features, hoping they would convey the depth of his feelings.

Sealing the envelope with a trembling hand, Bailey addressed it to Samantha Grey, care of the Federal Bureau of Superpowered Affairs, the only address he could find. It was a long shot, but he had to try! This was his one chance to reach out to the woman whose fiery fist was around his heart.

Fanning the Flame

The letter arrived at Virtue Media Management, tucked between bills and glossy promotional flyers, looking decidedly out of place. It was addressed in a shaky hand to "Samantha Grey, c/o Federal Bureau of Superpowered Affairs," and had been forwarded to VMM by the FBSA. Serena Powers, Level 4 Marketing Associate and Samantha Grey's assigned account handler at VMM, plucked it from the pile, her brow furrowed with curiosity. She'd seen her share of fan mail, but something about this one, the slightly crumpled envelope and the uneven handwriting, intrigued her.

Serena sliced the envelope open carefully, wary of damaging any potential treasures within. Out tumbled a handwritten letter, pages long, and a collection of drawings. She skimmed the letter, a bemused smile spreading across her face. It was a gushing, almost worshipful, declaration of admiration for Samantha, filled with over-the-top compliments on her powers and, oddly specific, praise for her infernal features. The drawings, done in a naive but enthusiastic style, depicted Samantha as a voluptuous devil-woman in various heroic poses, her wings, horns, and tail exaggerated to almost comical proportions; all covered in elaborately drawn flames.

Serena chuckled softly, picturing the awkward, lovestruck youth who penned this heartfelt missive. This was definitely one for the "unique and memorable" file. Still, despite the amusement it brought, Serena knew she had a job to do. Samantha Grey's public image was carefully curated, and this kind of obsessive attention, while harmless, could be misconstrued if it ever became public.

She gathered the letter and drawings, tucking them into a folder marked "Fan Correspondence." Later, during her weekly meeting with Samantha, Serena brought up the letter, framing it as a lighthearted anecdote.

"You've got quite the admirer, Sam," she said, a twinkle in her eye. "He's particularly fond of your, shall we say, 'assets.'"

Samantha paused from looking over current merchandizing reults, her brow arched inquisitively.

Serena handed over the folder. "He even included illustrations."

Samantha delicately took the folder, her long, black nails clicking softly against the cardboard. She skimmed the letter, her expression shifting from amusement to mild concern as she took in the young man's fervent declarations. The drawings, while well-intentioned, were undeniably focused on her infernal heritage, emphasizing her feminine and non-human aspects. Samantha, a refugee from a dimension where her kind was feared and exploited, was acutely aware of how such imagery could be perceived in the wrong light.

She sighed, handing the folder back to Serena. "He seems sweet, but a bit... intense. Teenager?"

"From the writing, I'd say about so", Serena offered, stifling a laugh.

Samantha's eyes widened. "Oh dear."

"Don't worry, I'll handle it," Serena assured her. "A standard thank-you note and a three by five should suffice. We'll keep it brief, generic, and absolutely devoid of any language that could be misconstrued as encouragement."

Samantha nodded, relieved to leave the matter in Serena's capable hands. She dictated a short, polite message expressing gratitude for the young man's support, trusting Serena to edit it appropriately before sending it off on her official letterhead.

Serena got to work, carefully crafting a response that walked the fine line between acknowledging the fan's enthusiasm and maintaining a safe, professional distance. The final letter was a masterpiece of PR spin, thanking the young man for his "kind words" and "artistic talent" while firmly placing Samantha in the role of a distant, admired figure.

Blaze Meets Inferno

The heroes arrived at the building just as a wave of explosive energy washed out from inside the Paragon City International Trade Center, depositing a chaotic scene of shattered glass and screaming, fleeing, civilians. Alongside Samantha Grey stood some of Paragon City’s most renowned heroes; all of whom had answered the urgent call from PPD to respond to the Arachnos bombing. They rushed inside.

Outside, the street was a swarm of emergency vehicles and reporters. Word of the attack spread like wildfire on social media, with panicked eyewitnesses sharing images of the heroes entering the building. One such post caught the eye of Bartholomew Bailey, his heart leaping with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Samantha was there, in the thick of the action! This was his chance! Ignoring the protests of his parents, Bailey raced out of their basement, his mind ablaze with a renewed determination to win Samantha's affection.

Meanwhile, Serena Powers, ever the savvy publicist, saw the drama unfolding as a golden opportunity -- several of the heroes were her clients, such as Megafist, TechPulse, Animan, Doctor Arkanist; and including Samantha Grey. She quickly coordinated with the local authorities, arranging for an impromptu autograph session outside the Trade Center, capitalizing on the positive publicity of the foiled attack to further enhance their images – all sworn non-lethal means true-heroes. The public loved them. Serena, recently reminded of some of the public's fascination with Samantha’s "exotic" beauty, subtly reminded the photographers to get good shots of her.

As the last of the Arachnos villains were marched out in restraints, Samantha and her team emerged from the building, greeted by a roar of applause from the gathered crowd. Samantha, always mindful of her public image, smiled graciously, her fiery aura subdued to a gentle flicker. She signed autographs, posed for pictures, and exchanged brief words of encouragement with her adoring fans.

Bailey, clutching a bouquet of deep-red roses, pushed his way through the throng, his heart pounding in his chest. He had rehearsed this moment countless times in his mind, imagining Samantha swooning at his feet, her heart ablaze with passion for him. He reached the front of the line, his face flushed, his hands trembling.

"Samantha!" he blurted out, thrusting the roses towards her. "These are for you! I love you!"

Samantha, startled by the sudden appearance of the awkward young man and his bouquet, blinked in surprise. A ripple of unease spread through the crowd as cameras clicked and reporters scribbled furiously in their notepads. "Oh, um... thank you," she stammered, taking the flowers with a hesitant smile. She couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the lovestruck youth.

"It's me, Bailey!," he blinked, as she seemed to not even recognize him.

"Oh, Bailey. That's right, you wrote me a letter." She smiled her best public smile at the young man.

"Samantha," Bailey continued, his voice cracking with nervousness. "I know you feel it too. The connection between us. It’s... it’s real!"

Samantha took a step back, her smile fading. "I’m flattered, but...," she tried to smile and look past him.

"No, no, you’re just shy," Bailey insisted, stepping closer, his gaze intense. "I know you’re meant to be mine!"

Samantha cringed inwardly. She had hoped to avoid this kind of scene. This was not the image she wanted to project. She needed to shut this down, quickly and cleanly.

"I appreciate your ... uhh ... enthusiasm," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I’m focused on my work, on protecting this city. I don't know you, but I'm sure there's someone out there for you. ... I'm not her."

"But... but..." Bailey stammered, his face crumpling with disappointment. "I thougt... I thought..."

"Hey! Hey Kid, that's enough. Back off!," one of Samantha's teammates interjected, pushing the young man back.

"I’m sorry," Samantha said, her voice hardening. "I truly am. But you need to respect our space."

Kindling the Plan

Crushed and humiliated, Bailey retreated from the crowd, the cheers and applause now mocking his shattered dreams. The rejection, far from deterring him, only solidified his obsession. He would prove himself worthy of Samantha’s love. As he retreated back to the sanctuary of his parents’ basement, His anger simmered. He needed power, the kind of power that would make Samantha notice him, power that couldn't be pushed away, that couldn't be denied, the kind of power that would make her his.

He began scouring the net, searching for information about anyone who could grant him that power. He knew he could do it, he already had been able to start fires on his own, out of nothing. There had to be people who could use his powers, help him develop them. His eyes fell on an article about the Hellions, a group of pyromaniacs and thieves known for their chaotic exploits and their obsession with magical artifacts. Bailey knew he had found his path. He would join the Hellions, learn their ways, and gain the power he needed to claim Samantha Grey as his own.